BY MARC WALDMAN PHOTOGRAPHS BY STEFAN SIEGEL
BARNSTONE PAINTS
a path for students
Mryon Barnstone in his studio.
50 January|February 2007
M
yron Barnstone might be running one of the most successful trade schools in North America, and it’s right here in the Lehigh Valley. He has made it his life’s work to improve the state of fine art education, which he feels has deteriorated to a point where students are no longer being equipped with the tools they need to compete and succeed at the highest level. That’s why he created his trade school, The Barnstone Studios. He is devoted to systems of classical design, and has a knack for doing things on his own terms. Referring to his beginnings as an art teacher in the late ‘60s, Barnstone comments, “Seeking work as an art teacher, I found that after more than a century of rapidly changing ‘isms,’ art teachers had given up the task of actually teaching and spoke only of creativity and the creative process, none of which taught students the difference between an apple and a drawing of an apple by a trained artist.” In other words, while creativity is indeed part of the process, there is a set of skills that need to be understood before one begins to interpret what one sees. For example, an architect envisions a building, but has to create blueprints in order to actually build the building; otherwise, it is a vision unrealized. Barnstone adds, “The difference is simply this: the appearance of an apple will not teach you principles, design systems, structures, proportioning systems and forty five thousand years of heritage of classical drawing.” When asked about the current public efforts in arts education, he is angry at the lack of attention to classical training. “For 60 years art teachers have not been trained in drawing and classical design. Universities teach by committee with teachers in separate rooms that have varying opinions on what to teach,” he comments. But while it could have been easy to sit back, be
Student Jessica Potter carefully sights perspectives for her drawing of a live model.
angry and bemoan the lack of attention to teaching fine art and its value, in 1977 Myron Barnstone decided to change it. He describes his philosophy about teaching quite simply saying, “One of the Greek philosophers said that ‘The image of a school is a tutor and a child under a tree.’ How wonderfully simple. (There is) All this talk of more money per student in the public education system when all you need is a little shelter, a tutor and an interested child.” After a successful career as a painter in Europe, and stints teaching at Moravian College and The Baum School of Art, he opened The Barnstone Studios, and for the last 29 years has been running one of the most unique trade schools in North America. He started with a 10,000-square-foot studio space at 915 Hamilton St. in Allentown, and followed with his current location, a former knitting mill in Coplay. Most trade schools offer small class sizes, a year or two of study in your chosen field and the chance for success at the next level, as does Barnstone Studios. What makes the school unique is Barnstone’s method of teaching and the success of his students. At this trade school the curriculum is classic design techniques, traditional drawing and color theory handed down by centuries of fine art masters, and every student is under the tutelage of one instructor. Upon moving on, his students are finding full scholarships at the finest art institutions in the United States and moving quickly through their chosen fields armed with knowledge and training that is simply not taught anywhere else. And his students’ success is consistent.
A Picture of Success Since opening his studio, Myron Barnstone’s students have received hundreds of national awards, over $3.2 million in scholarships (over $516,000 in 2001 alone) and grants to schools such as the Savannah College of Art, the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, Carnegie Mellon University, Boston University and many others. They also go on to work as designers for companies like Nike and Nine West, and become master architects, art teachers and successful fine artists. All of which surprisingly has happened quietly, and without much recognition from the media and the arts community. For example, if Myron Barnstone was coaching football, he would be receiving national attention, and Lehigh Valley Magazine 51
college recruiters and NFL scouts would be following his every move. A typical Barnstone success story is Kelsey Christman of New Tripoli. Who studied with Barnstone as a teenager. Armed with her portfolio of work she was accepted at The Fashion Institute of Technology in Manhattan and told that her work was above the level of their graduate students. After only two years at the school, Tommy Hilfiger hired her as a senior designer. After one year with Hilfiger she decided to pursue her passion for shoe design. She researched the industry, found an opportunity with shoe manufacturer Nine West and is now their top designer. This is considerable success for someone just three years out of high school, but this trajectory is common among former Barnstone students. So why do very few people know about Barnstone and his studio? How did he end up in the Lehigh Valley? The answers lie in Barnstone’s journey from being a young artist in Paris to a dedicated teacher in the Lehigh Valley.
The Fine Art of Teaching Born in 1933, he began his formal arts education in the ‘50s while still in elementary school at The Portland School of Fine and Applied Arts in Portland, Maine. In high school he was briefly instructed by Ed Engman, a sculptor who went on to become the chair of the art department at The University of Pennsylvania. After an encouraging time with Engman in high school, he had a disappointing year in Boston seeking instruction in drawing. Barnstone had found, “that serious instruction in drawing was no longer available. The climate of the times insisted that drawing was a ‘passionout-of fashion.’” He then joined the Air Force during the Korean Conflict and spent the next four years bouncing from Alaska to Japan and Texas. Determined to follow his passion for an education in drawing, Barnstone took advantage of the G.I. Bill to attend The Ruskin School of Drawing at Oxford University in England. There he found the skills and training he desired in classical design systems, and after a move to Spain, began to produce paintings that would lead him to eventual success as an artist and a teacher. After spending four years painting in Spain, Barnstone felt a move to Paris was in order to help further his career. He set up a studio in Paris and, “basically locked myself in a room for a year and painted.” His influences at the time were works by the likes of Swiss surrealist painter and sculptor Alberto Giacometti and the painter Francis Bacon, both of whom had found success in Paris. After his year of self-imposed isolation, he emerged with about 20 large oil paintings depicting war and its consequences in a graphic manner. Highly abstract figures of war victims in bold colors filled his canvases, depicting mankind at its worst. He then set out to exhibit his work. He had a friend whose father had been a close friend of John O’Hara, the famed novelist and short story writer from Pottsville, Pa. and who Barnstone was told was well connected in Paris and provided him with letters of recommendation for gallery directors. However, these connections proved futile, as most of the contacts were outdated. He then had no choice but to canvas the Paris galleries himself, in hopes of gaining an exhibition. “I toured all of Paris and located five galleries that were obvious, ideal locations and my work would look good on their walls.” While his work was well received he learned that there was a limited amount of available gallery space and a limited amount of time in which galleries exhibited seasonally. While the possibility of an exhibition looked promising, it could take several years to happen, and as an expatriate there was no work to support his stay. He realized his time in Paris would eventually come to an end simply for financial reasons. Then he caught a break. He learned that the director at The American Student Center in Paris was the daughter of the then governor of Maine. With a common background, the two struck up a conversation that lead to Barnstone showing her his work. Immediately, she directed him to contact the wife of the pastor of The American Church of Paris, a traditional, cultural meeting place for American expatriates (albeit more for social reasons than religious reasons). Her thought was that an anti-war statement by an American artist and an American organization, presented at the height of the cold war, would create an impact and immediate attention in Paris. 52 January|February 2007
She was right. The American Church jumped at the chance to exhibit his work and had the perfect space in which to present it: the catacombs of the church where during World War II the bodies of slain American servicemen were stored while waiting to be sent home. Suddenly, after being unable to gain a traditional gallery show, Barnstone was given a budget and a staff to turn the basement of a church that had housed the most horrific results of war into a gallery to display his work that depicted the horrors of war. Ironically, his work that chronicled the worst aspects of the human experience would be seen in a space that was forced to play host to it. As a result, it provided a unique venue to tell the story. Barnstone and his wife set about promoting the show. His wife visited every gallery that had shown interest in his work, and astonishingly the galleries helped assemble an invitation list that included the hierarchy of the Parisian art community. The show, which featured his paintings and drawings, was a smash. According to Barnstone, “On opening night, out came notable gallery directors and artists. What a show of support.” It opened in December of 1965, and by demand, the show’s run was extended six weeks after its initial run. French national television came calling and aired an interview with him regarding the show and its impact. It aired nationally in France as well as in Belgium, Holland, West Germany and parts of Spain. He had taken on Paris and found success in an unorthodox way, on his own terms. Next was a successful show of his drawings at the prestigious Galerie Lumiere, which also was showing famed sculptors Alberto Giacometti and Henry Moore. His work was selling, galleries shows were coming easily, he was on the cover of magazines, “and I was having the time of my life. You’re not going to support yourself as a painter in Europe, but we were doing pretty well,” he recalls. But then he adds, “It also became apparent (financially) that we couldn’t stay any longer.” He had a young daughter and quite simply needed to move where he could work and support his family.
meant moving to the United States.
Building Barnstone
He and his wife had decided on moving somewhere close to Manhattan. In an odd twist of fate, the Lehigh Valley can thank his daughter, Ben Franklin, FDR and the government’s communist paranoia of the ‘60s for Myron Barnstone landing here. During the depression FDR implemented The New Deal Cultural Programs to employ artists and writers, and one of them was an ongoing program that had writers producing books extolling the attributes of various regions of the United States. The programs faded as artists, filmmakers and intellectuals were soon being accused of being communists. However, at The Ben Franklin Library in Paris, Barnstone and his wife discovered these books, in particular one on Reading, Pa., in which the city received glowing
A student’s sketch of a live model.
reviews due in a large part to the fact that in the ‘30s, Reading was the only city in America that had a communist mayor. Barnstone chose it as a destination because of these reviews, but when he flew from Europe and visited Reading, he found a depressed mill town. He toured the region and found Allentown, which he recalled, “in 1966 was glowing. Hess’s was thriving and people were all dressed up on the streets. It was a pretty place.” He found an apartment at 13th and Hamilton and flew back to Europe and returned with his wife and daughter.
quickly found work at the Baum School of Art and Moravian College as After a year and half he returned to England and again found work teaching, but after eight years there he realized the only the way to earn a living for himself and his daughter long-term was to settle in the United States. He returned to Allentown and rejoined The Baum School of Art and Moravian College, but only briefly. Barnstone realized that he could only teach his way. He realized that what he was teaching would only be effective in a one teacher, studio setting, and he put down his paintbrush and began his second career as a teacher, on his terms. He reconnected with Robert Hertz, a former student of his at the Baum School who owned Junior Colony, a chain of about 150 women’s clothing stores throughout the Northeast. Hertz rented him a studio space on Hamilton Street in Allentown and Barnstone has never looked back (Hertz eventually left Junior Colony to study with Barnstone and became a successful painter and art teacher in Florida). His studio has become a mecca for those who want to study fine art. Students halt studies at major art schools and find their way to his studio, working professionals find the time to study with him and teenagers find direction and prepare for higher-level education, all under his watchful eye. “I truly have the best job in the world. I started as a professional painter exhibiting in Paris, London and this country. Circumstances caused me to open my own school. My school has served me, my daughter, and I hope, my students very well.” It has.
Student Bill Stank holds out a pair of dividers for a visual check of scale during class.
Barnstone says, “Some of our students have won national fame. Hundreds have attended the best art schools and universities in the nation. To the best of my knowledge, all of the serious students that have studied with me have thrived during their college years—so well trained were they—and all have found rewarding work. Many of these students keep in touch reporting their successes, exhibitions and joy.” One might ponder if there is a let down from being the toast of Paris to teaching students in a studio in Coplay. But when asked about his decision 29 years ago to give up painting and begin teaching, Barnstone simply retorts, “I have 10,000 square feet of white studio space with 12-foot high ceilings and dedicated students studying at a very high level. What more do I need?” He also describes the joy of teaching on his terms, “You stand alone in a room and hope people wish to study with you. You are either successful or not. I like that challenge. If you’re not successful, you might as well be on the corner selling apples.” For 30 years his classes have been full. LVM For more information on The Barnstone Studios, please call 610-261-1030. Lehigh Valley Magazine 53
