LIVING WITH ART BLOG

William J. Glackens (American, 1870–1938). Cape Cod Pier, 1908. Oil on Canvas, 26 x 32 in., Gift of an Anonymous Donor (BarnesFoundation) 

I think all of us want to feel that our lives will have mattered. Several things have happened over the past few months that have made me re- think how I would like to be remembered.  Probably the most dramatic has been the event of Covid and its daily reminder of death. The recent 8th anniversary of my late husband’s death and the approaching Easter season has caused me to think about my life more philosophically and introspectively. This week when I started reading John Anderson’s book about the battle over the Barnes Collection, “Art Held Hostage,” my thoughts began to race. The book is making me think more critically about the distinction of what I will actually leave behind and what I would like my legacy to be. For you see, those two things are not always the same thing.

Dr. Albert Barnes (1872-1951) amassed the greatest collection of impressionist and post impressionist art in America, including 69 Cezannes, 60 Matisses, and 44 Picasso’s among many other masterpieces. “Art Held Hostage” as well as a more recent book by Neil L. Rudenstine, titled “The House of Barnes: The Man, the Collection, The Controversy,” brings into sharp focus the limitations of power and wealth when seeking immortality. What Barnes wanted to leave behind and what he actually left behind are not the same thing.

When John Belt decided in the 1970’s that he wanted to create an Arts District in the middle of Oklahoma City, he was not thinking about his legacy. He just believed that the arts were a positive, creative, and necessary force for individual expression. He felt that the arts were essential to life and to a community and he believed he could make a difference. So he started buying abandoned properties in an area two miles from downtown that was called “Paseo.” The Paseo became John’s canvas. Along the way, he also started Harding Fine Arts Charter Academy, an arts integrated high school in the old abandoned Harding High School Building. He thought the school would be enriched by a nearby arts enclave. He saw them as being synergistic. Many thoughtful, helpful, talented and generous people helped John in both endeavors. But I think it is fair to say that John will be remembered for creating The Paseo and for repurposing Harding. That is his legacy. When I die, the properties that I own in The Paseo will go to the Community Foundation which was created and exists to legally manage the assets of its donors. The Foundation will become, in the absence of either John or I, the primary stakeholders in The Paseo. More importantly, the work to which John and I dedicated much of our adult lives will continue and the larger community of Oklahoma City will continue to be benefitted. But what I have been thinking about lately is how will I, Joy, be remembered? It’s one of the central questions in my life and it all revolves around how I want to be remembered and what am I willing to do to be remembered in that manner.