Inside what has come to be a rather boiler plate restitution press release announcing the return of 19 additional antiquities to Italy, the New York District Attorney's Office in Manhattan, slipped in a nice little Easter Egg when highlighting three of the object's heading back to Italy.  All had connections to well known antiquities traffickers, Gianfranco Becchina, Raffaele Monticelli, Jerome Eisenberg, Edoardo Almagià and Eugene Alexander. 

Along with these well-known names, the one line sentence quoted above refers to Michael L. Ward (b. 1943), the New York city antiquities dealer who managed a series of eponymous ancient art business entities, including:

And yes, this is the same fox in the the federal government's chicken coop who was previously appointed by then-President George H. W. Bush in 1992 to serve on the United States Cultural Property Advisory Committee, the U.S. statutory body who is responsible for the domestic implementation of the UNESCO Convention on the Means of Prohibiting and Preventing the Illicit Import, Export and Transfer of Ownership of Cultural Property of 1970.

Shortly after Ward's presidential appointment, the dealer found himself under the unwanted spotlight for attempting to sell 50 pieces of important Mycenaean jewellery, referred to as the Aidonia Treasure.  Dating to the 15th century BCE, these gold funerary pieces had been plundered in 1978 from a Mycenaean cemetery at Aidonia, near Nemea, in southern Greece. 

On 30 December 1993 Ward finagled his way out of his first messy situation via an out-of-court settlement wherein Greece agreed to drop their lawsuit against Ward and his gallery and Ward's gallery was allowed to donate the looted jewellery to the newly formed Society for the Preservation of Greek Heritage in Washington, D.C.   

In a stitch-up similar to Leonard Stern's later gifting of 161 works of Cycladic art via the Institute of Ancient Greek Culture of Delaware, Ward’s strategic use of, and donation to, a nonprofit charitable organisation enabled him to recoup his acquisition costs via a nice sized federal income-tax write-off.

Evidently, undeterred by this close call, the New York dealer continued to take risks, (and profited from) the purchase and sale of illicit antiquities via several networks of suppliers, who one by one, and over many years, were unveiled as corrupt. 

Ward's own "skin in the game" is clearly spelled out, beginning on page 114 of the Michael Steinhardt Statement of Facts document, where it is stated:

During this time, he [Ward] bought antiquities directly from known traffickers such as Giovanni Franco Becchina and Edoardo Almagià. He then sold them— typically with no listed provenance—to U.S. museums and prominent collectors, including Lawrence and Barbara Fleischman and Steinhardt. Ward’s attitude for due diligence and provenance is demonstrated by a 1992 fax to Steinhardt, in which he advises Steinhardt that “[t]he more you inquire about details of ownership, etc. the less likely you will appear (if there is, God forbid a question) a credible bona fide purchaser. Michael, you want to appear as dumb as possible!”

This document also describes Ward’s connection to the network of Italian dealer Gianfranco Becchina and as the direct purchaser of more than a dozen looted Italian artefacts documented in the business records of antiquities trafficker Edoardo Almagià.

Cyrene Deity - Steinhardt-Albertson Dt.76*

A strikingly rare piece, this sculpture is likewise named in the Michael Steinhardt Statement of Facts, and was formally surrendered by the disgraced New York collector-mogul in early December 2021.  One of only ten known half-figured goddesses of this type, originating from the Necropolis of Cyrene, Steinhardt had purchased Dt.76 from Michael L. Ward on 20 November 2000 for the spritely sum of $1,200,000.   

For the first time, the United States of America has handed over a rare artefact that was smuggled from the ruins of the Com in Hebron into the United States.  Carved from ivory, this object dates to circa 800-700 BCE and features an engraving of a winged creature.

This artefact is one of the 180 seized antiquities, valued at $70 Million purchased by Michael Steinhardt which were trafficked by a total of 12 different criminal smuggling networks. 

As the result of the District Attorney of New York - Manhattan investigations compelling evidence demonstrated that this, and other pieces were stolen from their country of origin, none of which had any specific provenance that could be verified by the collector or the DA's investigative team.

According to an invoice, Steinhardt purchased this ancient artefact on 21 January 2003 with no prior provenance for $6,000 from (then) licensed Israeli dealer Gil Chaya. While Chaya had listed his dealer’s license on his invoice to Steinhardt, the artefact was never registered (as required by Israeli law) with the Israeli Antuities authorities. 

Evidence as to its origins is documented in an email sent to Michael Steinhardt’s then-Collection Manager by Gil Chaya's then-wife Lisa, which stated:

“Cosmetic Spoon is from the Hebron area, a place called El Kom, this is the area of the richest Iron age Jewish tombs (many royal).” 

Map of the Hebron district

If Chaya's statement is to be believed, this artefact may come from Khirbet el-Qom, (خربة الكوم), an archaeological site in the village of al-Kum, between Lachish and Hebron.  The Hebron district (al-Khalil) itself is located 30 km south of Jerusalem where Chaya sold pieces he sourced illegally. Hebron is the largest governorate in the Palestinian territories, not only in terms of size and population (PCBS, 2009: 55-60), but also in its richness of cultural and natural heritage and is noted for being one of the oldest continuously inhabited areas in the world, sacred to the three monotheistic religions.

Assistant District Attorney Matthew Bogdonos and four of the ATU's analysts

After thanking the "good guys" and adding a few photos of the pomp and circumstance which inevitably accompanies a handover ceremony, we move on to the artwork's storytelling, being sure not to interfere with any additional ongoing investigations, but hopefully illustrating why it's important for these historical objects to go home. 

We then spend some time connecting the places the object originated from, when the artefact was likely uprooted from its find-spot, and as best we can, illustrating whose hands we have confirmed that the artefact has passed through.  This story-weaving serves twofold. It helps, we hope, bring the artefact, and the people who made it, to life, and to perhaps illustrate the circuitous routes these pieces take as they are laundered over and over again to make them appear reasonably legitimate to buyers.  In crafting this part of our article, we try where we can, to emphasise the loss to  aggrieved societies, and to illustrate that in some cases these are not simply beautiful sculptures, but also sacred idols to some religious groups or grave goods from someone's grandfather's grandfather's grandfather's grandfather whose burial place shouldn't be plundered.

Lastly, we usually close our articles with a bit of scolding, a reminder if you will, to collectors and dealers about the necessity of conducting and not overlooking due diligence.  We hope that in doing so, we as writers apply subtle pressure on art market actors to try and do better.  We also hope that our articles leave a connect-the-dots trail of negative publicity breadcrumbs of who knowingly did what and during what time period, so that lessor-informed buyers and researchers might find these missives when googling some of the art market's problem children. 

But on to the real point of this blog post...it takes a village, no really.

While restitution articles regularly lament the loss of moveable culture to the source country or society, and spend time focusing on the artefact's cultural significance, we don't often drill down into giving anything beyond cursory credit to the people who make recovery their life's work.  If names get mentioned, it's because they are the ones handed out to journalists via formal press releases, and listed as the important actors and agencies involved.  And it is this very naming, which does not necessarily weigh who did what or over how many hours, named or unnamed, that hardly ever gets expressed in the cultural diplomacy restitution equation. 

Some of the people who work on antiquities trafficking evidence are underpaid, relative their talents, and some are not paid at all.  Both work to sift through the "noise" of available data to find sufficient evidence which meets the threshold of the legal framework of the country where the suspect artwork or antiquity has been identified.  Many of these dedicated folks are truly not in it for the glory of having their names up in lights, but because they have a deep and abiding belief that these artefacts can, and should, go home.

To emphasise this, I have chosen to focus the rest of this article on just one of these team players, whose job it is to sift through both the chaff and the grain of all the available information surrounding a suspect object.  One of the people who assists in determining what constitutes direct or circumstantial evidence in proving a crime. 

In doing so I want to emphasise that what these individuals accomplish is every bit as important, and in some cases more so, that just visualising a match between a looter photo and a matching object in circulation on the art market or in a museum or private collection.  Identifications are absolutely critical and necessary, but they are just one single part of each investigation. And while such IDs are persuasive evidence, one would be remiss to think that the identification alone is sufficient when building a case for seizure and, one hopes, eventual restitution. 

So, let's talk about just one of those people who deserves our thanks.

Apsara Iyer, Yale class of '16 onsite at Machu Picchu

I met Apsara Iyer, for the first time in September 2012, at University College London's Archaeology and Economic Development conference. Back then, long before she joined the Manhattan DA's Antiquities Trafficking Unit, she was a surprisingly enthusiastic and well-informed freshman at Yale University working on her Bachelors, and already thinking more expansively about the right to culture than most undergrads her age. 

As one of the conference's early career panelists, I was taken in by her enthusiasm for preservation, as well as her sincerity.  I listened with interest, as she knowledgeably spoke of spending time the previous summer in the Andes Mountains, above the Urubamba River valley and the impact of archaeological tourism on the indigenous Machiguenga communities in Peru.

Over a coffee during a break in the conference, we talked about folklore and the ancient traditions Señor de Tetecaca, Ullantaytampu and Machu Pikchu in the Valle Sagrado de los Incas and I laughed when I learned that she had successfully managed, at just 17 years of age, to get interviews from people in one of the most biodiverse places in the world.  Interviews which ultimately would shape the backbone of her presentation. 

Admiring her chutzpah, I'd later learn that her interest in historic preservation extended even farther back.  In high school Apsara had helped bury two time capsules on the grounds R.S. Peabody Museum of Archaeology, stuffing them with snippets from life in 2010, some whimsical and some bitter.  Two selected "artefacts" that struck me particularly were the BP gift card which served as a bitter reminder of the devastation caused by the Deepwater Horizon spill.  Equally poignant, were the two opposing news editorials on New York City's proposed Cordoba House, back then referred to by Islamophobes as the “Ground Zero Mosque.”

By her sophomore year at Yale, Ms. Iyer had already been bitten by the art market research bug, and I had to smile when she dropped me an email telling me that she was exploring the local valuations of heritage in Cusco, Peru, and Udaipur, India in comparison to auction data and that she planned to spend the following summer doing independent research on antiquities trafficking.  Although we didn't stay in close touch, I wasn't surprised to learn that after her MPhil, she had joined Assistant District Attorney Matthew Bogdano's team as an Antiquities Trafficking Unit analyst. 

And as glorious as that sounds, more often than not it isn't.  

Forensic analysts at the Manhattan ATU work long hours and they have to be adept fact and hypothesis sifters.  For every single artefact brought to the attention of their office as suspect, it's folks on the team like Ms. Ayer that ensure that an object's case file has sufficiently concretised evidence which can allow for its seizure under New York law.  And the amount of time it takes to make that happen should not be underestimated.   Sometimes though, when analysts dig deep enough, their labours pull together an enormous quantity of disparate threads and intel, helping the Manhattan office to identify other tainted pieces, and that's how complex, multinational, networks are eventually dismantled and that's why the DA's office is good at what they do.

Why do DANY press releases lead with numbers and price tags? 

1 day to coordinate identifications and communications with external experts;

2 days to track down and fact check all known provenance relating to when this piece appeared for the first time in circulation;

1/2 day to analyse the visual and or digital content/meta data of looter photos; 

1/2 day to analyse written correspondence between the handlers related to this object;

4 days to sift through all the direct and circumstantial evidence on this piece and organise a case file;

2 days to confer with lead counsel to work out strategies and to answer any additional unanswered questions;

1 day to write up and document all credible evidence, applicable under New York law, which can be used to request seizure or towards bringing criminal charges.

Total = 10 days x 8 hours per day or 80 hours per object. 

80 hours per object x 307 objects = 24,560 work hours