The show, “Curtis Barnes, Sr., Dayton Icon,” runs through Sept. 14. The noted artist and educator passed away Oct. 13, 2019 at the age of 84.
A few of those who knew him intimately have shared their reflections and reminiscences. Members of the family, some quoted here, will participate in the museum’s Community Tours of the exhibition.
From his wife, Dorothy Barnes:
Curtis was a very loving, sensitive, energetic, and observant man. He met no strangers — he had a way of making everyone feel seen and welcomed. But at the center of his life was always his family. No matter how busy he was with his art or commitments, he always made time for us.
Family wasn’t just important to him, it was everything. He made sure we were part of his creative world, too, whether that was through dancing, storytelling, or simply being present in the family’s artistic spaces like the basement or the garage.
Some of my fondest memories with Curtis were our summer trips to his hometown of Wilson, North Carolina, for the family reunions. We would pack up the kids—and later, the grandkids, for a 13-hour ride in a station wagon or van. Some had air conditioning, some didn’t, but that never mattered. We were together. In the early years, the kids would lie across the backseats, and over time, the car grew to fit even more love and laughter.
Many years, Curtis would bring several of his paintings with him, tucked away in the trunk, ready to be given to close family members who supported and cherished his work. When we arrived, we were always met with hugs, kisses, and joyful laughter. We’d gather under the old shade tree and catch up on life, sharing stories late into the day.
Curtis gave so much of himself to the world, but the best of him he gave to us. His love, his time, his stories, his art—they live on in all of us.
From daughter Danita Barnes/Sani:
When I think about art memories with my dad, I remember he would take me and the neighborhood kids to the park to draw. I didn’t inherit his artistic talents, but he never made me feel like I couldn’t draw.
My fondest memories of my dad were when I was a little girl and we would sit on the back porch at night looking at the stars picking out the big dipper, little dipper, and analyzing the moon. He was always intrigued with what he called “The Cosmos” and it is reflected in a lot of his paintings.
His inspiration was greatly influenced by his love of family as we were his models quite often, whether we were physically sitting in front of him for long hours, days, and weeks at a time, or he would paint from a photo.
But his most painted muse was himself! He perfected painting himself; often he didn’t have a model, and out of all the self-portraits not one self-portrait is the same.
From Brooke Goodwine, granddaughter
To the world, he was an artist. To me, he was a lifelong mentor, my moral compass, and a major part of who I am.
For Papa Curtis, masks were more than cultural odes to our African roots. They were reflections of identity—how we show up in the world, how we protect ourselves, and how we navigate life’s complexities.
In his artwork, you’ll see masks not just as symbols, but as mirrors. Mirrors of who we are and who we need to be.
I was raised in a space affectionately known as “Da Tomb,” the basement of our family home. It was a sacred studio—walls lined with polaroids and Walmart prints, sketches stacked against paintings, music floating in the air. Generations of Barnes children contributed their own art, forming a legacy on the stairway to that space.
In Da Tomb, I learned to listen — really listen — to music, to express pain, joy, confusion and love through art. I was free to make decisions and safe enough to share them. I didn’t know it then, but Papa Curtis was curating something deeper: the courage to find and share my true self.
From Dave Crowell, student:
I first met Curtis in 1980. Entering studies in Art at Sinclair Community College, I was what could be considered a lost person. I had lost my job and my “chosen” career was in question so I enrolled in a drawing class during a summer session.
Curtis became my instructor that fall. He was a man who exuded a passion for mark-making. His enthusiasm was contagious. I was enthralled. The man continuously fostered us to reach beyond ourselves. He would make suggestions in the form of questions. He would ask “what if you pushed this idea?” or “how can this be engaged further?” Curtis would find something to admire in each of his student’s efforts.
I found myself seeking out his studio classes exclusively. I did train with other professors yet none of them taught with the same zeal. Curtis taught that the soul of the painting was of utmost importance.
As time progressed Curtis and I entered into more of a friendship. After I had graduated, I would visit Curtis at Sinclair, he encouraged me to come and use this studio space along with the model to continue my exploration of rendering of form.
Curtis Barnes was an indelible influence in my professional and creative life. He showed me how to find my passion, explore it and then push it beyond my comfort or complacency. I carry his drive to this day. His influence transcends cultural, racial and experiential boundaries. He still offers lessons today, every time I think of him or talk about him or listen to stories about him I myself become more. This man was truly what defines a great teacher.
From Sally Struthers, art historian, colleague:
I met Curtis Barnes, Sr. when I interviewed to teach part-time at Sinclair Community College in October, 1986.
Curtis’s main question to me was “What mask are you wearing today?” Taken aback, I asked for clarification. He said something to the effect that Yoruba People of Africa wear different masks for various stages of life: birth, coming of age, marriage, death. He said that he wore many masks as husband, father, grandfather, artist, friend, professor.
With his imposing physical presence and deep booming voice, I was pretty intimidated. Curtis quickly took me under his wings, mentoring me. He always had a beautiful smile, and a big bear hug for me when I needed it.
I loved to visit Curtis’ classes. His drawing and painting students were like flowers looking to him for sunshine and water - he nurtured them all. He had an amazing vocabulary, and his dialogues with his students - and me - stretched our brains, demonstrating that art is an intellectual, as well as creative, endeavor. His students all adored him.
Curtis ‘paintings are dynamic, colorful, soulful, pure energy - like him.
Curtis helped with the research on the African Art collection on display at Sinclair, in the Library. He taught the first African Art History course in Dayton, that I taught after he retired. My conversations with Curtis inspired me to research African art and to visit BurkinaFaso, Ghana and Cote d’Ivoire. I still teach “Non-Western Art History” at Wright State University as a result.
Curtis Barnes was a mentor, a great friend and an inspiration to me. I smile whenever I think of him.
From Dwayne M. Daniel, artist, friend:
Curtis Barnes, Sr. was the first developed African American visual artist that I had the pleasure of meeting. I first met Curtis when I was about 14 or 15 years of age as a student at Dunbar High School. I remember the large colorful paintings that seem to affect the temperature of the room, I could not look away. The work was an invitation to another world.
The second time I met Curtis was at Central State University while I was a student. Bing Davis, Chair of CSU’s Fine Arts Department, invited Curtis Barnes to have a one-man show. The large powerful paintings filled the gallery. For me the experience was both exhilarating and inspiring.
The third time Curtis and I met as colleagues at Sinclair Community College. He was a well seasoned, highly respected art professor when I was a young adjunct instructor in the program. Our bond and friendship continued to increase until his death.
Curtis was a holistic critical thinker who happened to be a visual artist. “Everything is everything” is a quote from Curtis that embodies his continued effort to connect history, humanity and the physical world to efficient and effective processes. Curtis provoked thought with every conversation. His work is a bi-product of his brilliance.
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