Boxer, semi-pro baseballer, physician,
chemist, son of a disabled Civil War vet,
iconoclast art collector, marketeer,
visionary, fierce American individualist
Albert Barnes, by hook and by crook,
amassed what’s now a $30 billion
art collection–post-impressionist gems,
early-modern triumphs, including more
Cezannes and Renoirs than you can
shake a stick at–and he spent his time
strolling through his gallery, carefully
arranging and rearranging each wall’s
ensemble of art until it made sense to him.
Even now, though miles away from his home,
his ghost ambles through the rooms,
tilts his head, makes tiny adjustments,
sighs, polishes his glasses, and moves on.
