Ancient Women, Modern Crime: How Etruscan Women Were Trafficked Across the World

I have long been fascinated by the reddish-buff clay figures of barefoot women placed along the eaves of ancient Etruscan roofs. Dressed in impeccably folded, vividly coloured chitons, women like the protagonist of this article once danced in procession, some alongside their companion Silenus, caught in revelry with the wine god Dionysus. They were meant to watch over temples, to move eternally in rhythm above daily life.

How this happily intoxicated woman was smuggled out of Italy and into a "Private Collection, Switzerland" remains a mystery,  though the contours of her journey are painfully familiar.  Long before she caught my attention, others before me had been chasing their own trafficked ladies, recognising them instantly when they surfaced on the art market with little or contrived collection histories, a tell-tale sign that they did not run away voluntarily, and instead were the byproducts of clandestine excavations, conducted in Etruscan cities.

For two decades, Italian authorities have known just how desirable these elegant women are to collectors and museums.  Maurizio Fiorilli, Italy's avvocato dello Stato and ARCA lecturer Stefano Alessandrini chased them.  As did Paolo Giorgo Ferri, Rome's Sostituto Procuratore della Repubblica working closely alongside Dr. Daniela Rizzo and Maurizio Pelligrini from the Villa Giulia.  

Left and Middle: Restituted from the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek
Right: Restitute from the J. Paul Getty Museum

Thanks to painstaking legal and scientific work, sifting through the stacks of probative evidence supporting Italy’s claims and in close collaboration with Italy's Carabinieri Command for the Protection of Cultural Heritage, some of these trafficked Maenads have found their way home.   The first was acquired by the J. Paul Getty Museum in 1996 and returned to Italy in 2007 and the others were relinquished by the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek in 2016, though only after years and years of foot dragging.

Paolo and Maurizio both shared with me the chillingly coded language used by American dealer Bob Hech when discussing the delivery of "children" by his associate Fritz Bürki in a letter written to Mogens Gjødesen, the Copenhagen museum's director from 1970 to 1978. 

Dear Mogens,

Since Bürki is anxious to see Copenhagen, I shall let him accompany the children (provided Swiss or Swedish - excuse me - Scandinavian airlines permits the children inside). If not, he will send them. If he does, he would advise you in advance, so that your shipper might be there to help him. Maybe I too shall come. We figured some time around the 4th - 6th January. 

All the best to you + Marianne

Sinc..

B

Left:  Antefix recovered from London
Right: Antefix found at excavations conducted in 1938-39
at the Campetti di Veio, collection of Villa Giulia

Seeing these historic objects as the embodiment of actual people, children no less, made my blood boil. And it wasn't too long after that when I began my own hunt for ancient lost souls.  My first pursuit led to the identification and with a lot of effort on many people's part, the recovery of a Maenad from Veii offered for sale at Christie’s London.  

Her journey became the narrative spine of Lot 448, a documentary which premiered at the 2021 virtual Tribeca Film Festival sponsored by Bulgari and directed by Bella Monticelli.  Remember her name.  She too caught the antiquities trafficking bug, and ARCA will share more of her work as a trafficking sleuth in the near future.

But back to the 6th century BCE "Hurrying Maenad" who is the protagonist of this article. 

She too was spotted at Christie's, though this time in New York.  I came across that piece in an exhibition catalogue for an event held during the summer of 1991 at the Israel Museum in  Jerusalem, highlighting recent donations from the the Etruscan collection of the late Ivor Svarc of California along with loans of supplementary material from Jonathan Rosen, the business partner of Robert Hecht, the Musée d'Art et d'Histoire in Geneva and from private collectors and other museum collections in Israel. 

Aside from the fact that the photo on the cover of this exhibition catalogue depicts another suspect artefact, a terracotta pair of galloping horses, inside the thick book contains entries by Giovannangelo Camporeale, Fiorella Cottier-Angeli, George Ortiz, and Christoph Reusser, names that have, at times, prompted debate and concern within the field.  Each of these authors collaborated with Ines Jucker (née Scherrer, 1922-2013), the scholar and sometimes ancient art dealer responsible for curating the exhibition cited in the Christie’s lot description for the piece. 

The provenance for this headless woman in the Christie's sale read:  

Elsa Bloch-Diener (1922-2012), Bern, 1975 (Antike Kunst, no. 113).

Private Collection, Switzerland, acquired from the above, 1975; 

thence by descent to the current owner.

Elsa Bloch-Diener (1922–2012) too was a Swiss art dealer who operated a gallery at Kramgasse 60 in the old town of Bern.  She too collaborated with Jucker who authenticated pieces on her behalf.  

Returned from the United States in late December, This latest recovered Maenad will rest her feet for a while at the Museum of Rescued Art, within the Octagonal Hall of the Baths of Diocletian, alongside her sister, the antefixes returned from the Getty and the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek. 

Together, Each speaks softly of journeys not of their own making. Torn from the cities they once animated and roughly carried across borders and oceans by unseen hands, these barefoot girls, forever poised in music and motion, remind us that the paths traced by looted objects are rarely their own. Their return is not simply a matter of geography, but of belonging restored after years of forced removal. 

Brough back from  the United States in later December, this new recovery will go on display at the Museum of Rescued Art, housed in the Octagonal Hall of the Baths of Diocletian, alongside the J. Paul Getty and Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek antefixes  showing just how far barefoot girls playing instruments can travel.   

I suspect this will not be the last of the ladies dedicated officers and heritage crime analysts identify.  Their music still lingers, echoing across centuries, waiting for those willing to listen closely enough to bring them home.   And I for one am grateful to the Carabinieri for doing the heavy lifting to bring this girl home. 

By Lynda Albertson