It's no news that American universities have suffered financially as a result of a faltering post-9/11 economy, but several of them have made headlines recently when they've announced rather "innovative" fundraising initiatives. Thomas Jefferson University, for example, stood to make $68-million when it sold the Thomas Eakins painting The Gross Clinic and Fisk University stood to recieve more than $10-million for the Georgia O'Keeffe painting Night, New York. But both deals were derailed when resistance proved insurmountable.

In Philadelphia, outraged citizens raised more than $30-million in a matter of months to keep The Gross Clinic (the remaining $38-million will be provided by a bank until the fund can meet the $68-million price tag) in their city. It will now reside at the Philadelphia Museum of Art and the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts. (You can donate to the fund to keep the painting in Philly here.)

In Nashville, the Georgia O'Keeffe Museum fought to prevent the sale of Night, New York, contending that O'Keeffe's donation of this painting (and several others) in the 1940s was made with the understanding that the collection of works would never be broken apart. Tennessee's Attorney General ruled in the museum's favor, but since then new deals have been brokered.

When donors give art collections worth millions to universities, do they have the right to expect that the work will never be sold? In the case of Fisk, university officials claimed that the sale of the O'Keeffe painting (and one other painting in their renowned collection) was necessary to keep the university afloat. What good is a collection of paintings to a university if the university doesn't exist?