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July 20, 2011

ARCA's 2011 IACC: Charlotte Woodhead on “Assessing the Moral Strength of Holocaust Art Restitution Claims”

By Molly Cotter, ARCA Intern

At ARCA's third annual International Art Crime Conference in Amelia on July 9, Charlotte Woodhead, Assistant Professor at the University of Warwick, shared her analysis of the numerous moral considerations of the United Kingdom’s Spoliation Advisory Panel, which hears claims relating to World War II thefts of cultural objects.

Founded only in the year 2000 and keeping in mind the time bars involved in civil suits, the panel assesses and resolves claims from people, or their heirs, who lost property during the Nazi era which is now held in UK national collections. Members of the panel, including lawyers, judges, professors, an art dealer and a baroness are appointed by the Secretary of State and consider both legal and non-legal obligations, such as the moral strength of the claimant’s case, and whether any moral obligation rests on the holding institution. In cases where the claimants received post-war compensation, the panel also considers any potential unjust enrichment were the object to be returned or a monetary reward offered. The public interest of a piece is also a factor in deciding whether to simply return the item or offer a reward.

The panel’s proceedings are an alternative to litigation, and its recommendations are not legally binding on any parties. However, if a claimant accepts the recommendation of the Panel, and the recommendation is implemented, the claimant is expected to accept this as full and final settlement of the claim.

Woodhead also discussed the difference between UK claim resolution and those of the Restitution Committee of the Netherlands. The British panel seeks restitution for art lost or stolen during the Nazi era (1933-1945) whereas the Dutch committee focuses on art lost in direct relation to the Nazi regime. Regardless of their differences, Woodhead stressed the importance of the existence of these panels saying “Nazi stolen art is different from stolen art as there is a wider cultural goal to right the wrongs of the past.”

July 19, 2011

Maria Elena Versari on “Iconoclasm by (Legal) Proxy: Restoration, Legislation and the Ideological Decay of Fascist Ruins”

Update: This post has been republished with corrections.

By Kirsten Hower, ARCA Intern

Maria Elena Versari, the Assistant Professor of Modern European Art and Architecture at the University of North Florida, spoke about the perception of and reaction against  Fascist architecture in Italy. Her presentation, titled “Iconoclasm by (Legal) Proxy: Restoration, Legislation and the Ideological Decay of Fascist Ruins,” examined the conflicting modern views of Fascist architecture and, particularly, what to do with what remains of it. The debate that Versari highlighted centers on those historians who wise to preserve the architecture of the past for its part in history, and those who wish to wipe away the memories of Fascism and its place in Italian history.

Versari’s main focus concerned iconoclastic acts towards remaining Fascist architecture: both destructive and in terms of conservation. In specific reference to the Mancino Law of 1993—which punishes acts that incite violence—she referred to people who had been prosecuted for publicly endorsing Fascist symbols. In addition, Versari referenced the application of Hans Belting’s division of symbols and how that can apply to the iconoclastic actions against Fascist art and architecture—an attempt to destroy the collective mental symbol by destroying the physical symbol. However, as Versari pointed out, Mussolini  appropriated past symbols and images, using them for his own purposes and changing their meaning—making the selective destruction of Fascist iconology within the Italian public space a particularly compelling enterprise.

Versari focused on the other form of iconoclasm found in the action or inaction of conservation on the part of governmental bodies. She specifically pinpointed the legal complexities that led to the inaction on the part of several offices to allocate the funds to properly preserve architecture built during the Fascist period, allowing these buildings to decay and crumble rather than preserving them for their historical purposes. Versai concluded by comparing recent practices of local administrations in dealing with Fascist art and architecture. While some will give money to alter or ‘cover up’ the symbols of Fascism in certain architecture—whitewashing plaques and the like, others, as in the case of Forlì, are pursuing a more subtle critical practice, suggesting the visual historicization of Fascist remains and of their subsequent iconoclastic history.

After graduating with her PhD from Scuola Normale Superiore in Pisa, Versari has taught in both Italy and the United States and published many scholarly works, including Constantin Brancusi (Florence: Scala Group/Rome: L’Espresso, 2005) and Wassily Kandinsky e l’astrattismo (Florence: Scala Group, 2007). In addition to teaching, she is currently a member of the Advisory Board for the online journal Art in Translation.

July 18, 2011

Duncan Chappell on “Forgery of Australian Aboriginal Art”

Duncan Chappell
by Molly Cotter, ARCA Intern

Professor Duncan Chappell, Chair of the Centre of Excellence in Policing and Security International Advisory Board and an Adjunct Professor at the Sydney Law School at the University of Sydney, discussed the moral and monetary corruption of contemporary forgeries in his presentation, "Forgery of Australian Aboriginal Art", at ARCA's International Art Crime Conference in Amelia, Italy.

Aboriginal Australians make up only 2% of the nation’s population. Their art is of extremely spiritual nature and works consist mostly of desert sand, rocks, and homemade pigments -- things from the earth. The value of Aboriginal art has soared in recent years with one work selling for a record $2.4 million at auction. The market itself grosses nearly $100-$500 million annually, which makes it a major source of income for many Aboriginal communities and individuals. Because of the swelling demand for Aboriginal art on the market, more and more pieces are being forged and slipped into auction sales. Aboriginal forgeries are mores upsetting than traditional forged works because they undermine the integrity of Aboriginal art, its meaning, and even the original painter’s spirituality.

In one case, a married couple was tried and convicted of selling nearly $300,000 worth of fake Rover Thomas paintings through Australian auction houses. When initially arrested, police seized not only numerous Thomas catalogues, but two unfinished forged canvases. In other cases, criminals forged prints to provenance to entire exhibitions and unfortunately, often suffered minimal consequences.

Authorities have run into issues in trying to protect the cultural heritage of Aboriginal art. Sometimes artists sign blank canvases before beginning work on them or family members aided in the production of thee work; therefore, issues of provenance and authorship becomes more complicated.

The aforementioned examples as well a number of civil suits underscore the need for due diligence of galleries and auction houses not only to defend their reputation but the integrity of the Aboriginal artists and their legacies.

July 17, 2011

Saskia Hufnagel on “Harmonising Police Cooperation in the Field of Art Crime in Australia and the European Union”

Saskia Hufnagel in Amelia, Italy
by Kirsten Hower, ARCA Intern

Dr. Saskia Hufnagel, a Research Fellow at the Australian Research Council Centre of Excellence in Policing and Security (CEPS) at Griffith University in Queensland, presented “Harmonizing Police Cooperation in the Field of Art Crime in Australia and the European Union,” at ARCA's third annual International Art Crime Conference in Amelia.

Her research project was originally meant to focus on the collaborative effort of Australia and the European Union, but became a project centered more on the need for cooperation in both systems. As Dr. Hufnagel said, she was doing “the dance of presenting a research project that doesn’t exist.” Her project, therefore, became more focused on the comparison between Australia and the European Union concerning perception, priority, policing, and reactions towards art crime.

Dr. Hufnagel demonstrated in her presentation that Australia, in general, does not put a policing priority towards art crime, because of the perception that art crime is a financial matter compensated by the insurance companies.

“Generally there is a lack of recognition which leads to a lack of resources,” Dr. Hufnagel said.

Australia’s nine territories therefore do not allocate funds towards investigation and prevention of these crimes, Dr. Hufnagel said. Accordingly, they also do not feel the need to enhance cooperation amongst the states and territories to combat the problem. It is difficult to generate support for the problem because in Hufnagel’s words, “we don’t know how much art crime is going on in Australia” due to the fact that most crimes are not reported.

Dr. Hufnagel stated that there is not a strong focus on art crime research in Australia and that the last funded research related to art crime from a practical policing perspective was conducted in 1999 by a single individual, who was not granted sufficient resources to finalize his research, which undermined the effectiveness of his conclusions. Art crime is a very sensitive issue and cooperation is not only necessary between different law enforcement agencies, Dr. Hufnagel said, but also between the museums and galleries and police, which is probably even more difficult.  Police cooperation between Australia and neighboring countries concerning drug smuggling is relatively high, but unfortunately, when it reaches the bounds of art crime, the differences in culture seem to impede effective cooperation. Dr. Hufnagel compared this to the European Union, which has divisions of laws to each of the countries that do not aid fellow countries in the fight against art crime.

Speaking passionately about the need for appreciation of art crime, Dr. Hufnagel said, “Art is really important to our lives because our lives are so limited…art allows you experience a vast range of emotions, cultures and situations you could never perceive otherwise.” She intends to continue her research into art crime and to raise the field’s status in the realm of police enforcement with the hope that something will be done to further cooperation and collaboration in Australia and the European Union.

July 16, 2011

Ludo Block on "European Police Cooperation on Art Crime"

by Mark Durney, founder of Art Theft Central

Ludo Block, a former Dutch police officer and current investigator at Grant Thornton, recently submitted his doctoral dissertation on the topic of police cooperation in the European Union. While his dissertation focuses on EU policy-making in relation to police cooperation, Mr. Block focused his panel lecture at ARCA’s third annual International Art Crime Conference on transnational police cooperation in crimes against art.

Unfortunately, art crime is often overlooked by law enforcement due to the lack of political priority. Whereas most members of the European Union do not maintain law enforcement units to investigate art crimes, a few countries such as France, Spain, Greece, and most especially Italy, maintain special units to curb the problem. Italy has organized its data management capabilities, its art crime experts, and investigative capacity under the Comando Carabinieri per la Tutela del Patrimonio Culturale with over 300 staff. Furthermore, it has trained officers at the local level in order to enable them to effectively investigate crimes against art. Also, the Carabinieri play a major role in the annual art crime courses offered to senior law enforcement by CEPOL, the European Police College.  Some other EU Member States maintain centralized units but these are usually staffed with only a handful of experts.  In mother Member States, data management on art crimes is insufficiently organized and as a result, reliable statistics on the scope of art crime are hardly available.

Throughout his research, which featured interviews as well as extensive research, Mr. Block found that the countries that placed art crime high on their policing agendas largely drove the European Union’s cultural heritage protection policy. In spite of various attempts since 1993, only recently in 2008 the  European Union passed new policy aimed at increasing police cooperation; however, as yet it did little to enhance the cooperation between the member countries. Mr. Block stated that in practice law enforcement efforts in a majority of the member countries rely on the personal dedication of a handful of specialized art crime investigators. In cases that involve transnational crimes, most investigators take advantage of their informal relationships with other investigators in order to pursue crimes that extend beyond their borders.

The European Union is in the process of developing an art crime database for its member countries.  In 2008, Europol, the European Union’s criminal intelligence agency, declined to participate in the project but Interpol, which has a long history of supporting the fight against art crime, quickly agreed to  convert their database to the EU member states' needs. According to Mr. Block, combatting art crime starts with proper data management on the local level where art crimes are usually first registered.

July 15, 2011

Arthur Tompkins on “Paying a Ransom: The Theft of 96 Rare Medals and the Reward Payments”

by Molly Cotter, ARCA Intern

Judge Arthur Tompkins opened the 3rd annual ARCA International Art Crime Conference with an engaging discussion on the positive and negative aspects of paying ransoms or rewards in order to recover stolen art. He utilized the 2007 theft of 96 rare medals from New Zealand’s National Army Museum, valued at NZ$5-$6 million, as a case study to examine the arguments in support of and against ransom payments. He first noted that readily paying a thief’s ransom may seem to be ideal solution. The art is returned quickly; it limits the potential for the work to be damaged; bad publicity for the institution is avoided; and the necessity of having to make, or pay out on, an insurance claim is prevented. In the New Zealand museum’s case, a substantial private reward was posted for information pertaining to the theft and the medals were returned within a few months.

Judge Arthur Tompkins
Amelia, Italy
Though this seems like a storybook ending, the arguments against ransom payments suggest that this behavior not only encourages, but endorses future crimes. If a ransom is paid or a reward given, the chance of a repeat offense is much greater. Also, it perpetuates the gentleman art thief myth, and reduces the level of moral turpitude attributable to the crime. Simply put by Judge Tompkins: “The thief is happy, the owner is happy, the police are happy, and some wealthy insurance company has paid, but will get its money back from its customers, so everyone wins.” The payer also becomes complicit in the crime, and the transparency of the transaction can be lessened.

Judge Tompkins also discussed the legal responses around the world to such crimes. In the most extreme examples such as in Italy and Colombia, ransom payments are illegal. Other countries only find it unlawful to offer a “no questions asked” reward; however, penalties for violating this often involve only a minimal fine.

A contemporary case-study of how ransom payments endorse crime is the activities of pirates off the coast of Somalia. As of mid December 2010, Somalia pirates were holding at least 35 ships, more than 650 hostages, and had earned nearly US$240 million through ransoms. Their system has become so sophisticated that there is even a piracy stock exchange, Judge Tompkins told the audience.

A systemized ransom/reward structure does encourage and sustain illegal activity, and the direct costs of recovering stolen art have a detrimental effect on collections and access to art, according to Judge Tompkins.  However, he noted, “Legal prohibitions of activities where there is a potential for profit involved, simply do not work,” and suggested that in an ideal world, a victimized individual or institution would pay the money, get the artwork returned, find and prosecute the thieves, and then recover the ransom payment.

July 14, 2011

ARCA's 2011 International Art Crime Conference: Mayor Riccardo Maraga Welcomed the Participants to Amelia

by Catherine Schofield Sezgin, Editor-in-chief

Mayor Riccardo Maraga welcomed participants of ARCA's third annual International Art Crime Conference to the Palazzo Boccarini in Amelia last Saturday, July 9.

When citizens of the 3,000 year old Umbrian town elected Maraga from the Democratic Party in May 2011, they voted in one of the youngest mayors in Italy.

A native of Amelia, Riccardo Maraga graduated in Law from the University of Perugia with a thesis on "Labor and the Constitution". Last October, he earned his doctorate in Economic Law.

Readers may find out more about the Mayor of Amelia and his projects through his website here and on his Facebook page where he announced on Tuesday that he has been selected as one of 40 Young European Leaders for a meeting in December to be held in Paris.

July 13, 2011

July 12, 2011

Judge Arthur Tompkins on The Codex Aureus of Lorsch and the De Arte Venandi in the Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana (Part III)

by Judge Arthur Tompkins, ARCA Lecturer and blog contributor

It turned out to be a much smaller, slimmer volume that the Codex Aureus. But it too is missing the coat of arms and the inscription! Instead, there appears on the opening leaf the commonly encountered oval and/or circular "Bibliotheca Apostolica Vaticana" stamps, and the handwritten pencil inscription “Facs Bav Pal. Lat. 1071 [1969.2] Concs."

This version is a copy of the original manuscript by Frederick II, which was lost in 1248 during a siege of Parma. Copies of the original exist in two-volume and six-volume versions – the Vatican’s copy is in the former category.

The facsimiles of the opening leaves show clearly been reasonable extensive damage around the edges. All the pages are written in dense, small, text, in two columns ending about two thirds down each page, and each block of text on each page is surrounded by a profusion of pictures of birds of all kinds, flying, walking, wading, and occasionally swimming. Every now and then a human falconer or a hunter appears, but infrequently in the first section of the volume. A few of the illustrations of birds have handwritten labels appended to them (by son Manfred?). There are is one picture of two dogs, which look like greyhounds, savaging a fallen deer .

Towards the back of the volume, more numerous falconers appear, one with a startlingly red hat on, and others with similarly coloured red tunics, showing the correct way to carry birds, to hold them in preparation for flight, to secure them to their perches or on transportable field stands.

In one memorable picture, a falconer is shown having discarded his clothes in a heap, and is taking a naked dip in a pond (retaining his hat, presumably for modesty’s sake) as he is watched by two bemused ducks.

There are a few uncoloured line drawings, some showing how to bath a falcon in a small basin.

The back inside cover of the volume bears the printed inscription (in German as well as English):

First edition 1000 copies.
Binding: Graphic K.G. – Graz – Printed n Austria
Text and plates: Akademische Druck – u. Verlagsanstalt – Graz
And on a separate sticker at the top of the inside cover, the information:
Facs.Bav. Pal.lat1071[1969:1-2]. Cons. (1969:2)
Friedrich II imperatore del Sacro romano impero e re di Sicilia, 1194-1250
De arte venandi cum avibus, ms, pal, lat 1071
Bibkioteca apostolica vaticana.
Pubblicazione: 1969
After completing my inspection of my second volume, but before I returned it and perforce ended my visit, I went on a slightly nervous wander. I was interested to see if anyone would accost me, arrest me, and forcibly remove me from the premises and the City State. It turns out that I had been working in one of two connected rooms, labelled Sala Manoscritti 1 and 2, and I was able, without being apprehended or stopped, to walk elsewhere in the complex of interlinked reading rooms. The Manuscripts Reading Room was by far the most fully occupied. For most of the time I was there, there were only a handful of spare seats.

Next to this, is a Room referred to in the Rules as the Inventory room. The Rules told me that it was forbidden to take manuscripts out of my room into this adjacent, much less stylish and indeed almost blandly functional, and in it the tables were mostly unoccupied.

The Sale Leonine
Adjacent to these two rooms, and connected to it by the entrance foyer containing a large rococo gilded table with a marble top, was a far longer and grander reading room, about three or four times the length of the one I had been in, containing many more multiple-seat reading tables, with around its walls tall shelves of printed books and, in a neighbouring narrow area running the length of the main room, banks of card catalogues. This room overlooked the Cortile de Belvedere, through which I had walked to gain my initial entry. This room is called the Sale Leonine, and features a significantly frescoed ceiling, with many Popes’ names featuring.

During my walks, executed with pencil in hand, and with a studious expression on my face, I spotted on a wall a floor plan which revealed that manuscripts with the shelf mark "Palatinato" (referring to the books taken from the Bibliotheca Palatina) were only available in the main Manuscript Reading Room, on request. The same floor plan also revealed that, down some stairs and off somewhere else there existed a space invitingly labelled with the word, “Bar”. More of that in a moment. But, also on the same floor plan, there appears, in the bottom right corner in an otherwise blank area, the words "Archivo Segreto” – much like old maps used to have the words, “There be dragons…”. Equally if not more inviting, but my Rules told me that “in order to access the Secret Archives from the Library, or visa versa, the main entrance of each of the two Institutions must be used.” So I guess that I best not try to go there ….

And indeed it turns out that the Vatican Library has a Bar. Who would have thought? After checking with the same helpful librarian who had, upon my arrival steered me safely in the direction of the Manuscript Reading Room, that I would not set off any alarms or be locked forever on the outside, I discovered that one exits into a large internal Courtyard (Cortile della Biblioteca), crosses this, (in the by no fiercely hot sun), and ascends a narrow, almost hidden staircase, into a small room which seems to have been created out of a ruined apse of a Romanesque church, with the ruined walls and partially broken semi-circular apse, with rough niches, still very much in evidence. Opposite the broken apse was a small counter, an automated coffee machine, and a couple of hot plates for heating pre-prepared paninis. Here, I had my lunch – a tepid coffee served in a flimsy plastic cup, and a dry, reheated ham and cheese Panini. But hey, it was my Vatican Library lunch …!

And so my visit to the Vatican library drew to a close. I returned my second volume, gathered my belongings and, reversing the process I had followed upon arrival and with a backward glance of regret and longing, I quit the Vatican Library. Happily, I get to keep my magnetised swipe card.

A most memorable occasion in pretty much every respect. Perhaps on a return visit I will get to see the original manuscripts, presumably under even stricter supervision, and solve the mystery of the missing coat of arms and inscription.

July 11, 2011

Judge Arthur Tompkins on The Codex Aureus of Lorsch and the De Arte Venandi in the Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana (Part II)

by Judge Arthur Tompkins, ARCA Instructor and blog contributor

The Manuscripts Reading Room
The Vatican Library’s main Manuscripts Reading Room is a light and airy room about 8 metres wide, by about 22 metres long, with beige coloured, plastered walls, a high, vaulted ceiling complete with frescoed oval medallion in its centre, three large windows set into slightly recessed arches on one wall, (looking out
onto a grassed garden area, the Cortile della Bibliotheca), and four more or less corresponding niches on the opposite wall. One of the niches has a bust of Father Ehrle, who seemingly lived from 1845 – 1934 (a past and revered Librarian, perhaps?), and three full-length, female statues. Opposite the entrance door, at one end, is a high desk running most of the width of the room, in front of two large wooden cabinets fitted with interior metal shelves, for returned volumes. Librarians hover, ready to assist, in hushed tones.

On the wall above the entrance door hang portraits of Cardinal Scipionne Cobelluzzi (1618-1626) and Francesco Barberini (1626-1633). Above the main desk there is a bronze bust of “PIO XI PONT MAX”, surmounted by a large crucifix with Christ that looks somewhat similar to the one that hangs in Santa Maria Della Croce in Florence. Above a desk to the left of the entrance door, which remained unoccupied during my stay, hangs a large portrait of an unnamed, seated cardinal.

The Reading Room’s procedure requires initial registration at the desk, which electronically reveals the number of the locker you have been allocated downstairs. Readers are required to write (in pencil, of course, and in block capital letters only) their surname next to the locker number on a pre-printed sheet, and then also to enter the number of the seat they have chosen for the day – in my case #52, at the back right corner of the room, so as to afford me the good view of my fellow readers. An informal head count reveals that the room can accommodate 57 readers – 30 seated at tables of three each, on the right side, and 27 at nine corresponding tables on the left, below the windows.

Each reading space is equipped with a small lectern-like stand for the manuscript being study, with elongated wooden pegs to hold the pages of the manuscript open, and a printed card reminding one, in case you have forgotten, that, among other prohibitions, it is forbidden to use an ink pen of any type, and that only an erasable lead pencil or a personal computer may be used.

I was told that both my requested manuscripts were available to me only in facsimile (I knew that from an earlier email from Dr. Ciminella) but one, it seems was not within easy reach. So I first received the facsimile of the Codex Aureus. A facsimile of the Codex, incidentally, was given by Pope Benedict to Queen Elizabeth of England on 16 September 2010 (although the facsimile he gifted was of the whole work, and included copies of the famous front and back covers, torn off in Heidelberg and still separated from the body of the manuscript), in return for which the Queen gave His Holiness a series of Hans Holbein prints from her collection.

Surprisingly, the facsimile is incomplete. In particular, it omits from the front leaf of the volume is the Coat of Arms of the Bavarian House of Wittelbach, and the Latin inscription:
"Sum de bibliotheca quam Heidelberga capta Spolium fecit et papae GREGORIO XV trophaeum misit Maximiliianus utriusque bauariae Dux &c S
R I Achidapifer et Princeps Elector."
Which translates, more or less, to:

"I am from the Library which, after the capture of Heidelberg, Maximilian, Duke of Bavaria … took as spoil and sent as a trophy to Pope Gregory XV."

The Wittelbach coat of arms, and the inscription, were precisely what I had come to see. Perhaps, in preparing the facsimile, a choice had been made not to include a record, plain to anyone with eyes to see and read, of the taking of the Codex by the army of the Catholic League following the fall of Heidelberg in 1621, during the opening years of the Thirty Years’ War?

Another, less sinister, explanation is perhaps that, given that the original codex was torn in two, and its front and back covers removed, in Heidelberg (for ease of transportation) then the coat of arms and inscription might appear in the missing bits. But that is unlikely, as the desecrating of the manuscript happened, as I understand it, in Heidelberg prior to transportation over the Alps to the Vatican, so that the inscriptions, which were most likely inserted into all the Palatinato volumes, happened after their arrival in Rome.

So where are they? And was there anything else to see which might assist?

Instead of the Coat of Arms and the inscription, the front leaves of the volume are suspiciously blank, except for the pencilled notation “Facs. Bav Pal. Lat 50 [2000] [1B) Cms.” Following these blank opening pages, the first page is resplendent with gloriously golden text, set out in two columns on each page, and bordered with both a plain outer gold border and a broader (about 1cm wide) inner coloured border, which varies in colour and patterning from page to page.

Several pages in, there appears a comparative table, with four decorated columns headed MATTHEVS, MARCUS, LUCAS, and JOHANNIS - which are a bit of a giveaway, although the following pages sometimes omit one or other of the names. Then there begins what the gospel of Matthew – given both that the figure depicted in glorious colour on the opening page is strikingly similar to the three St. Matthew Caravaggios I saw a few days ago in. And then there is the word MATHEUM appearing at the top of the following pages, which fairly compelling, I think. The Christ in Majesty illumination appears a dozen or so leaves after that.

The next major illumination is of an apostle surmounted by a horned bull, so I am guessing this is Luke (again, assisted in my scholarly deductive reasoning by the word LUCAM that appears every regularly at the top of the following pages…).

Further on through the volume is an apostle pictured with a large bird above him, and given the helpful word JOHANNON in the now familiar position on the following pages, this is John.

The last 16 pages of the volume, after a page which ends with the words "Explicit Evangelium Secondum Jonhannem", are still in gold lettering, but now in lowercase, rather than capitals, with interspersed red sub headings, red capital letters at the beginning of most paragraphs, and no borders. I have no idea what they are. I am sure others know full well.

The last page is a half page of modern printed German text, very obviously not written in the 8th century, and containing at its base the notation: ISBN 3-85672-066-9.

Thus ends my examination of the Codes Aureus of Lorsch. Returning it to the care of the librarian, I went now in search of the De Arte Venandi…

Judge Tompkin's adventures in the Vatican Library to be continued tomorrow.