By: Camilla Brunazzo Chiavegato

Museum curators play a key role in legitimising looted or stolen artefacts. They act not only as individuals, but also as professional representatives of the museums to which they are legally, ethically and deontologically tied. But while their actions and  activities are not usually considered criminal, apart from when it involves insider theft, museum representatives are worth examining through the lens of criminological theories. 

As a means of example, the Grosz v. Museum of Modern Art  (2009 - 2011) case and the Nazi-era provenance of the three works involved – Self-Portrait with a Model   (1928), Republican Automations (Republikansche Automaten) (1920) and The Poet Max Hermann-Neisse  (1927) by George Grosz [Fig. 1] – allow us to reflect on the problematic collection practices of the founding director (1929-1943) and then director of collections (1947-1968) of the Museum of Modern Art, Alfred H. Barr Jr.  

Figure 1. Transfers of property of the three works of art by George Grosz (Self-Portrait with a Model, 1928; Republican Automations, 1920; Poet Max Hermann-Neisse, 1927) protagonist of the legal case Grosz v. MoMA

Barr: Was he a‘Good Faith’ or a ‘Bad Faith’ Purchaser?

In the context of Nazi-era spoliations, US lawyer Raymond Dowd has defined ‘bad faith’ purchasers as “thieves, accomplices of thieves and receivers of stolen property [that] have received massive financial benefits at the expense of a murdered population despoiled not only of their property, but of their culture as embodied in the artworks torn from them.” 

Figure 2. Nazi propaganda against Jewish Bolshevism and on the dangers posed by the 'untermenschen'. Alfred Flechtheim’s face was used as the quintessential example of the regime’s enemy, undated (Robert Hunt Library).

At the trial of Grosz v. MoMA, the plaintiff avoided defining Barr outright as a buyer acting in bad faith, despite the fact, as we will illustrate below, that this museum director was well aware of the opportunities (and controversies) occurring on the global art market during his tenure at the museum. And yet he still chose to authorise the purchase of suspect artworks for the New York museum, previously classified by the Nazi Party as “Degenerate Art.” 

In this case, the source who first circulated German artist George Grosz’s “degenerate” works of French modernism and German expressionism was a Jewish art dealer named Alfred Flechtheim, who was forced to liquidate his galleries in Berlin and Düsseldorf “under duress” – a factor that is legally difficult to prove. What is known is that Flechtheim was refused the compulsory membership of the Reichskammer der bildenden Künste because of his Jewish background, which amounted to a ban on his business after Adolf Hitler was appointed as chancellor on 30 January 1933. He was also subjected to a stream of anti-Semitic propaganda against the dangers brought about “Jewish Bolshevism.” [Fig. 2] as well as the later the Nazi-organized traveling exhibition of so-called “degenerate” art in 1937.

Figure 3. Klein-er Portrait Max Hermann (mit cognac flasche) by George Grosz on view at the Museum of Modern Art, New York.

For the purposes of this article, we will focus on the most problematic of MoMA’s three acquisitions: The Poet Max Hermann-Neisse (1927). In 1928, Grosz consigned the portrait of his close friend from his 1920s period in Berlin to Alfred Flechtheim as “Klein-er Portrait Max Hermann (mit cognac flasche),” following an agreement that recognised the Jewish dealer as his exclusive sales representative. [Fig. 3].  It is insufficiently clear if this painting had been consigned to the dealer solely for sale, or if the proceeds for the sale of said painting, had Flechtheim sold the work, been earmarked for the repayment of the debt the artist had with his dealer. 

How did The Poet Max Hermann-Neisse make its way into the Museum of Modern Art’s collection?

To follow the circulation of Grosz’s painting it is useful to read correspondence between Barr and the emigrated German art dealers Charlotte Weidler and Curt Valentin, both of whom were conduits established in the US that helped peddle purged “degenerate” artworks in America.  Letters exchanged between Weidler and Barr, and Barr's correspondence with Valentin and other colleagues, provide us with unique insights into these individuals actions when it comes to the sale and purchase of suspect works. 

Figure 4. Charlotte Weidler’s passport photo from 1931.

As one of the first institutions in the US (founded in 1929) solely dedicated to the exhibition of modern art, the MoMA was rapidly expanding, and Barr maintained a relationship with Weidler. She was a German art historian and critic of North European contemporary art, who since 1924, had served as an advisor to Homer Saint-Gaudens, the director of the Carnegie Museum regarding German artists whose work might be selected for its annual international exhibitions.  [Fig. 4]. In addition to this Weidler is documented as having profited from the sale of artworks entrusted to her during the Nazi era, including pieces belonging to the Jewish art historian Paul Westheim, who fled Germany under persecution. After Westheim’s exile, Weidler claimed to have safeguarded his collection but instead sold works without his consent,  pocketing the proceeds. 

While Weidler played a pivotal role in introducing major works of German Expressionism to the United States, her professional dealings remain deeply controversial. Archival evidence shows that she profited from the displacement and loss suffered by others in the art world, particularly émigré collectors and dealers forced into exile from Germany. Her involvement with some of these collections has drawn scrutiny as emblematic of both wartime and postwar exploitation. Yet, her picture remains complicated: some scholars who have studied her correspondence describe her as a fervent anti-Nazi, highlighting the tension between her personal views and her self-serving actions and transactions.

On 5 February 1950, writing to Barr, on stationery from the Carnegie Institute, Weidler discussed her plans to travel to Europe to visit artists’ studios, hoping to acquire works that might appeal to the museum director. In this same letter, she informed Barr that “I have been lucky that some of my collection in Germany for instance an oil painting by Klee, works by Barlach, Nolde, Kokoschka, a strong, early George Grosz which once has belonged to the Kronprinzen Palais and has been ousted by Hitler [Grosz’s Poet], and drawings by Lehmbruck could be saved and have partly arrived in New York already.”

Figure 5. Curt Valentin in Berlin, 1936 (photo by Alfred Hentzen)

After Barr’s initial refusal, on 10 April 1952, the art dealer Curt Valentin later wrote to Weidler that he had managed to sell her painting, The Poet Max Hermann-Neisse to Barr for the New York museum for $850, despite the painting being damaged and requiring conservation treatment.  [Fig. 5].  

In that correspondence, Valentin writes:

“Dear Charlotte: 

We sold the painting “Portrait of Max Hermann-Neisse” by George Grosz for $850 to the Museum of Modern Art. However it seems the picture is in a very bad condition, and Mr. Barr told me the repairing cost would amount to $75, which he would like to deduct from the cost price.  I agreed to this, and I hope you will still let me have $100 profit, in which case I shall credit your account with $675. ”

At the time of the painting’s acquisition by MoMA, Alfred Barr made no effort to investigate its prior ownership or trace its path through the art market. Nor did he attempt to reach out to the work’s original creator, George Grosz, who had fled Nazi Germany for New York in 1933 and was in a position to clarify its provenance. Grosz could have confirmed the painting’s original consignment to dealer Alfred Flechtheim, or even overseen the restoration work referenced in Barr’s correspondence with Curt Valentin. Instead, Barr bypassed both avenues, opting to proceed with the purchase without further inquiry or explanation, leaving critical questions of provenance unaddressed.

Valentin, Not your run of the mill New York gallerist.  

Fig. 6. Curt Valentin’s Nazi Reich Chamber of Fine Arts Sales Authorisation.

On 14 November 1936 the Nazi Reich Chamber of Fine Arts gave a written authorisation to Curt Valentin, Alfred Flechtheim’s former assistant, to:

"… make use of your connections with the German art circle and thereby establish supplementary export opportunities, if [this is done] outside Germany. Once you are in a foreign country, you are free to purchase works by German artists in Germany and make use of them in America.” [translated from original]. 

This authorisation effectively made Valentin an out of country agent of the Nazi government during his time in New York. [Fig. 6].  Likewise, the sale of The Poet Max Hermann-Neisse (1927) by George Grosz was not his only sales transaction with the MoMA, nor the singular controversial one.

Fig. 7. Cover of the Gallery Fischer Auction Catalogue (June 30, 1939).

Valentin was a sales intermediary for the MoMA on 30 June 1939, when the Theodor Fischer Gallery in Lucerne, Switzerland organised an auction entitled “Paintings and Sculptures by Modern Masters from German Museums” during which 125 major confiscated works were put up for sale the proceeds from which were to be paid into a foreign currency account in London, available for the ‘German Reich’. [Fig. 7]. 

While many dealers boycotted this sale of appropriated works, refusing to finance the Nazi war machine, Valentin was less restrained.  He attended the auction purchasing on behalf of the Buchholz Gallery in New York and at the behest of Alfred Barr, to bid on paintings to be purchased with funds from donors of the museum.

Valentin bid on works of art that the Nazis had purged from German public museums under the 1938 law on “degenerate” art, and obtained the winning bid on five works: Andre Derain’s “Valley of the Lot at Vers,” stolen from the Cologne Museum; E. L. Kirchner’s “Street Scene” and Wilhelm Lehmbruck’s “Kneeling Woman,” both taken from the Berlin National Gallery; Paul Klee’s “Around the Fish,” pilfered from the Dresden Gallery, and Henri Matisse’s “Blue Window,” seized from the Essen Museum.

Figure 8. Cover of the catalogue for the MoMA exhibition “Art in Our Time”, 1939.

Two days after the extremely distasteful event, Barr’s correspondence from Paris, addressed to the museum’s executive director, Thomas Dabney Mabry, demonstrates that both museum employees were fully aware of the problematic consignor of the artworks being sold in Switzerland.  Barr himself, cowardly writes his colleague saying: “I am just as glad not to have the museum’s name or my own associated with the auction” while suggesting that the staff at the MoMA should frame their new acquisitions as distanced from the Lucerne auction: “state that they have been purchased from the Buchholz Gallery, New York.” The outcome, all five purchased works were exhibited in MoMA’s 1939 summer “Art in Our Time” exhibition, with no mention to their problematic circulation. Instead the works were credited to Valentin’s New York gallery and listed as anonymous loans.  [Fig. 8] 

The bridge between Weidler and museum director Barr was thus Curt Valentin who worked first for Galerie Flechtheim and later for Karl Buchholz. 

Buchholz was one of the four German dealers authorised by the Nazi Party's Reichskammer der bildenden kunste to sell “degenerate” art abroad to finance the regime. From 1937 to 1951, Valentin represented the Buchholz Gallery in its US venue in New York, where he sold art authorised by the German government for disposal. Valentin was also one of the preferred channels for acquiring avant-garde masterpieces for the fledgling MoMA and Barr recommended Valentin when he asked for the U.S. citizenship in 1942. 

Barr’s Ethical and Legal Constraints 

Barr’s unsavory purchase activities, made possible by his position of authority, can be analysed in terms of the professional standards of the time. The only ethical guidelines available during his tenure were contained in the vague Code of Ethics for Museum Workers, published by the American Association of Museums in 1925.

In the spirit of the American society of the 1920s, that document aimed to instil ethical behaviour and relations in workers at different levels of the museum’s hierarchy (staff-director, director-board of trustees). It is worth emphasising that the stated function of museums at this point in history was to hold their collections in trust “for mankind” and at the service of human life, based on the “three-fold ethical basis” of devotion, faith, and honour. 

The section “Business Dealings” deplored embezzlement by employees and highlighted the role of directors who, in the name of their responsibility and authority, should balance trustees, employees, and the public image of the institution while, somehow contradictorily, amassing a “representative collection.” However, “representative collections” should guarantee an interpretive context for individual objects in the museum setting, typical of colonial universal museums. 

Regarding the legal handling of Nazi-looted property on an international horizon, the Inter-Allied Declaration Against Acts of Dispossession Committed in Territories Under Enemy Occupation or Control (London Declaration, 1943) was issued to “combat and defeat the plundering by the enemy Powers of the territories which have been overrun or brought under enemy control” and nullify and reverse the property expropriated by Germans in occupied territories. The signers (the Allies and the French National Committee) appealed to the citizens of neutral countries to fight against the seemingly legal methods of expropriation that was being perpetrated by the Axis powers (Germany, Italy, Japan). 

In addition, specifically in the United States, works classified as stolen property would have also fallen under the National Stolen Property Act (NSPA, 1948), Sec. 2315 Sale or receipt of stolen goods, securities, moneys, or fraudulent State tax stamps. 

Figure 9. Alfred H. Barr, Jr., Pablo Picasso, Jacqueline Roque, and Margaret Scolari Barr at Picasso’s home, “La Californie,” in Cannes, France, July 1956 (Alfred H. Barr, Jr. Papers, 12.II.M. The Museum of Modern Art Archives, New York. Photo: James Thrall Soby).