With trumpets and dignitaries, the Barnes opens

With a trumpet fanfare that seemed to erase an eternity of angst and anticipation, the Barnes Foundation's new building on the Benjamin Franklin Parkway was officially dedicated Friday morning in honor of founder Albert C. Barnes, with executive director Derek Gillman promising to "dedicate ourselves anew to his passions."

"Philadelphia, our cultural star is rising," Mayor Nutter told the hundreds of dignitaries, officials, donors, and the consuls general of Italy, Germany, France, and Mexico who assembled in the light court outside the galleries.

"This is a momentous day for the city, for the region, for the country, and, I would suggest, the world," Nutter said. "The world will be watching, and the world will be coming to Philadelphia, the cultural capital of the United States of America."

With trumpeters stationed just inside, the thousand-pound glass-and-bronze gallery doors glided open at 12:07, and the crowd entered for a first view of the galleries, faithfully re-created from the Barnes' Merion mansion. Some wiped away tears.

"Welcome," said Gillman. "Long a dream, now a reality in this magnificent building."

"We made it happen," Nutter told Aileen Roberts, chair of the building committee, just inside the gallery. "It's the real deal."

"It's awesome," said former Gov. Ed Rendell, long a champion of the project.

"It's like you're in Merion, but it's better," agreed U.S. District Court Judge Marjorie Rendell.

Bernard C. Watson, chairman of Barnes' board of trustees, was beaming. "Look at this smile," he said. "I feel great."

At the ceremony, architects Billie Tsien and Tod Williams grew emotional when they were introduced. "Now, it's a gift for Philadelphia - and it's really a gift for the world," Tsien said. The two received a long standing ovation.

Rebecca Rimel, president of the Pew Charitable Trusts, praised donors who went out on a limb despite the controversy surrounding the move.

"They were bold in their resolve and courageous in their actions," she said. "Here's a way-long-overdue thank-you from a grateful city and those who have their souls and spirits lifted by this great public treasure."

Dignitaries, buoyed by a glowing review in the New York Times, buzzed around, remarking on the exterior details - "the red of the trees, the water, the grass, I get it," one woman said to another. "It's so peaceful."

Inside the galleries, people reexperienced the enigmatic genius of Barnes. "I think it's wonderful," said artist Moe Brooker, surrounded by a Miro, a Renoir, a Gritchenko, a 15th-century German work, plus various spoons on the walls. "It's exactly like it was when I saw it 40 years ago in Merion as a student."

He noted that contemporary curators are beginning to move toward Barnes' vision, juxtaposing different works of art and letting the connections speak directly to viewers.

This being the Barnes Foundation, also present were the lawyers, including Larry Barth, senior deputy attorney general of Pennsylvania, who steered the Barnes through rocky times. "This is wonderful," he said. "The whole idea was to save the place so people could enjoy it. Nothing to be ashamed of about that."

Perhaps the most emotional of the hundreds on hand was Ed Dixon, 59, a Newtown Square electrician whose grandfather, Albert Nulty, was Albert Barnes' friend and confidant for years. He said he and his family grew up with and around the Barnes.

His eyes glistened as he peered through doors into the galleries, at Matisse's Seated Riffian and Picasso's Composition: The Peasants. He called the dedication "bittersweet."

"It's very nice, very emotional. I've been through the galleries for nearly 60 years. . . . Our family has been connected to the Barnes before they built the galleries."

Being so close has always been a complicated thing for his family, he said. His grandfather was the only member of the original board who had children; the cantankerous Barnes also was childless. "My family tells stories of growing up, they were always ridiculed about Barnes from the day they were born," he said. "To us, it's family.

"We used to play in the gallery when we were kids," he said, adding, of the art beyond the doors, "I'll see a lot of old friends."

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