Lucian Freud, Woman with Eyes Closed, 2002

Picasso's Head of a Harlequin, 1971

Forensic experts have so far refused to say definitively whether or not the burnt remains were from stolen paintings.... The trial of Radu Dogaru and his five alleged accomplices -- one of whom is still on the run -- was opened and adjourned by the Romanian court until 10 September.... One of the lawyers said their clients had offered to return five of the paintings, with no mention of the remaining two. Another lawyer, Maria Varsii, said: It is more likely the paintings are intact. My client says they can be handed over to the Dutch authorities. In exchange, they want to go on trial in the Netherlands.... The Rotterdam paintings came to light some months [after the October 16 theft] later when Mariana Dragu, an art expert at Romania's National Art Museum, was asked by a friend to examine some artworks he was planning to buy. She said she called the prosecutor's office when she realised she was looking at the stolen originals. A few months later, three Romanian men were arrested on suspicion of involvement, including Radu Dogaru. It was following her son's arrest that Mrs. Dogaru allegedly burned the artworks at her home in the village of Carcaliu, in the Danube Delta region of eastern Romania.

The extraordinary Girolamini Library of Naples is home to almost 160,000 ancient manuscripts and books and opened its doors to the public in 1586. Built alongside the Church and Convent of the Girolamini, the library served as the convent’s Oratory and is believed to be one of the richest libraries in Southern Italy.

 

The collection, which includes many rare editions dating from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, is centered on Christian theology, philosophy, sacred music, and the history of Europe and the Catholic Church. After the massive Irpinia earthquake, which struck Campania in 1980 the church, gallery and library were closed. The collection, off limit to anyone except scholars, suffered a lengthy period of neglect, and it is believed that many volumes disappeared. It is presently owned by the Italian State.

 

On 12 September 2011 two manuscripts from the Girolamini Library and a 14^th century Missal from the Archdiocese of Bari, were returned to Italy after a protracted legal dispute and eventual settlement with Sotheby’s auction house in London and the manuscript’s last owners, who believed they had purchased the documents in good faith. This custodian event took place at the Italian Embassy in London in the presence of Italy’s Deputy Attorney General of the State Maurizio, Fiorilli, the federal prosecutor who also successfully pushed for the return of looted artifacts from the J. Paul Getty Museum, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, and other American Museums.

King's Stele and Inscription (Nineveh)

Sennacherib, the great king, mighty king, king of the universe, king of Assyria, king of the four regions (of the world), favorite of the great gods. (the god) Ashur and (the goddess) Ishtar have given me an invincible weapon and have opened my hand for the destruction of the enemies of Assyria. Trusting in their great might, I led my armies from one end of the earth to the other and brought in submission at my feet all princes, dwelling in palaces, of the four quarters 9of the world), and they assumed my yoke. At that time I enlarged the site of Nineveh, my royal city, I made its "market-streets" wide enough to run a royal road, and made (it, the road) shine like the day. The wall and outer wall I caused to be skillfully constructed and raised them mountain high. I widened it most to 100 great cubits (Ca.50m). In days to come, that there might be no narrowing of the royal road, (therefore) I had stelae made which stand facing each other. 52 great cubits I measured the width of the royal road, up to the Park Gate. If ever (any one of) the people who dwell in that city tears down his old house and builds a new one, and the foundation of his house encroaches upon the royal road they shall hang him upon a stake over his house.

On December 27, 2012, Eric Prokopi, a self-described “commercial paleontologist,” pled guilty to engaging in a scheme to illegally import the fossilized remains of numerous dinosaurs that had been taken out of their native countries illegally and smuggled into the United States. Specifically, Mr. Prokopi pled guilty to a three-count criminal information: Count One charged conspiracy to smuggle illegal goods and make false statements with respect to a Chinese Microraptor fling dinosaur; Count Two charged entry of goods by means of false statements with respect to two Mongolian dinosaur fossils; and Count Three charged interstate and foreign transportation of goods converted and taken by fraud.

Thierry Lenain writes that if Otto Kurtz (who wrote a much admired volume on art forgery several decades ago) should rise from the dead, that he would be disappointed with the present volume. Here Thierry Lenain underestimates the significance of his recent work. Art Forgery: the History of a Modern Obsession, which presents much interesting new material in a crowded field of competing volumes, also called “Art Forgery,” of which there are scores of identically-titled works, almost an allegory for the subject itself, as much of the content of these volumes is repetitive. Lenain’s works stands out as a significant research endeavour, not just another run-of-the-mill rehash of the lives of famous forgers, of which there are a continual stream. Incidentally, in common English use, we sometimes make a distinction between a fake and a forgery. A fake is a copied work of art, such as a series of Monet’s hung as a backdrop in a play: these are fake Monet’s, but they are not forgeries. If the same pictures of Monet’s are copied, signed and then sold as an original Monet, then we refer to that as a forgery, but these distinctions may not apply in other languages, so we do not necessarily see authors whose first language is not English following this precept. Forgery implies criminal deceit which a fake does not: at least that is the way in which several European writers use the two words, which makes an often useful distinction between the two actions or motives involved.

There was a good deal of press coverage surrounding a recent art recovery I handled for the Museum of Modern Art in Sweden. A UK-based dealer with significant connections to the Polish art market searched Matisse's Le Jardin against the Art Loss Register database. The results showed that the work had been stolen 26 years earlier, from the Moderna Museet in Stockholm, Sweden and reported to the local police, INTERPOL, and the IFAR (later the ALR) database. 

Following confirmation of the match, my role was to ensure that the painting made its way into the UK, where I would secure the assistance of law enforcement in case a seizure of the work became necessary. I then proceeded to negotiate (with police approval) for the return of the work. 

Fortunately, I encountered a very cooperative dealer who was willing to listen to my analysis of the laws of Poland, the UK, and Sweden. (I think I might have bored him into submission). We engaged in considerable debate about what options he had available to him, knowing that he now held a stolen painting. Once obtaining his release, the painting was placed in a safe for eventual return to the museum in Stockholm. 

Many of the reporters covering the story wanted to know how much money was paid to the dealer, to obtain the release of this $1,000,000 painting. The follow-up question was just as direct, in wanting to know how much money the ALR was going to make from the recovery. The answer to both questions was, and is, zero.