Buzz Bissinger titled his profile of then-Mayor of Philadelphia Ed Rendell’s efforts to save his city from the brink of fiscal disaster, A Prayer for the City. Philadelphia, my native city, always seems to be fighting out of some corner, especially perceptual ones. The soon to be realized move of Dr. Albert C. Barnes’ Barnes Foundation to Philadelphia from a nearby suburb has unsurprisingly brought out many of the old prejudices against the city. Sadly, even respected art critics such as Christopher Knight of The Los Angeles Times fall into the trap of bashing the city in the name of “preserving” the revered intentions of the good doctor’s vision. Here’s my prayer for greater understanding of the truth behind the Barnes Foundation move and a plea for new respect for my city.

Knight recently wrote about the “alarming architectural plans” of the Barnes Foundation’s new location on the Benjamin Franklin Parkway of Center City Philadelphia. He based his objections on a Wall Street Journal profile of the Tod Williams and Billie Tsien, the New York architects designing the new museum (artist’s rendition shown above). Knight recounts all the well-repeated objections, including the relocation of the original building’s art installation by Henri Matisse from a stairwell to a gallery, but adds a new one originating from the WSJ piece involving, of course, Philly Cheesesteaks. The architects’ “absurd description of an early aim to evoke the architectural equivalent of a ‘Philly cheesesteak’ will likely tick off many,” Knight writes.

In the original WSJ article, Williams and Tsien explain that “[e]arly in the design process” they “likened their proposed vertical expansion, which would have slipped in an extra floor, to a ‘Philly cheesesteak,’” out of an attempt to represent “the common man." However, because of the court-mandated restrictions put in place to retain as much of the original building’s feel, “that particular architectural option proved impractical.” So, the “cheesesteak” plan Knight objects to actually isn’t going to be realized at all. The real objection, I sense, is to what the “cheesesteak” symbolized for the architects and the critic—the greasy fingers of the common man and woman coming close to the masterpieces so long sequestered to the suburbs of Lower Merion out on what Philadelphians know as “the Main Line.”

First of all, as much as Williams and Tsien had good intentions in mind, only New Yorkers would use “cheesesteaks” as shorthand for “the common man,” i.e., the common Philadelphian. Fellow long-suffering native Philadelphians will recognize the common prejudice, seen on any nationally televised sporting event from Philadelphia. The “local color” shots for Monday Night Football, for example, are always the Liberty Bell, the Rocky Statue, and a South Philly cheesesteak stand, as if the proposed “Museum Mile” the new Barnes is to join along with the Philadelphia Museum of Art and the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Art doesn’t even exist. Philadelphia once ranked second in population only to London among English-speaking cities in the world. The first capitol of the United States, Philadelphia boasts more historical firsts than any city in America. And, yet, we remain the butt of jokes from places as near as New York and as far as Los Angeles. The disdain of Knight’s discussion of “cheesesteaks” reeks of the same elitism that strives to keep the Barnes in the suburbs and out of the city.