Art Hostage Services
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The Art Hostage team undertakes a wide range of services, including due diligence, collection conservation and management, risk assessment and security as well as legal issues, recovery and dispute resolution involving art and artifacts. Through partnerships with leading organizations, the Art Hostage team can provide a complete service for all aspects of collecting and protecting art.
Anthony Amore, for the last two years has been writing a book about Rose Dugdale and the IRA Vermeer theft to give himself cover in finally trying to flush out any Irish Republican influence in recovering the Gardner art.
Anthony has tried, in vain thus far, to convince people of the current reward offer and immunity offer being collectable, therefore negociations are at an impass.
The suggestion of the Gardner Art Reward Price List would go some way to establish the sincerity of the Gardner Museum and be an olive branch to those would could help recover some Gardner art.
Those who hold or control some of the Gardner art fear the clenched fist of the FBI will come crashing down on their houses with God's own thunder if they step forward.
A test balloon of a lesser valued Gardner artwork being handed back would also give confidence to follow through with the future recoveries of the Vermeer and Rembrandts.
Much more will be revealed in the months ahead as we move towards the thirty years since the Gardner Art Heist March 1990- March 2020.
Whomever holds any Gardner art must be terrified of stepping forward, so reassurances should be given by the FBI and Gardner Museum, such as a Gardner Art Reward Price List, to cover the distinct possibility the thirteen Gardner artworks are not held together anymore.
Sadly, the assurances of Anthony Amore have rung hollow to those who can facilitate the recovery of some Gardner Art.
They think Anthony Amore is conducting "The Art of The Con" to quote the title of Anthony Amore's last book.
Lets Bring The Gardner Art Home, Change.org Petition:
Forty years ago, thieves swiped
five valuable paintings from an East German museum. Now, they have
finally been returned, thanks largely to the mayor of the town from
which they were taken. But the mystery hasn't yet been solved.
Knut Kreuch can still remember exactly what he was thinking so many
years ago when the staircase he was on was suddenly plunged into
darkness. He was 13 at the time and his mother's favorite Friday evening
show was on TV. Even though they lived in the town of Gotha in East
Germany, they were able to tune into the West German equivalent of
"Unsolved Mysteries," about crimes that hadn't yet been solved.
After the show ended that night, it was Knut's job to head down to
the cellar from the sixth floor in the housing block where they lived to
turn off the washing machine. And when the lights went out, leaving
young Knut to feel his way along the stairs in the pitch black, he found
himself thinking: Thank God you live in walled-in East Germany. All the
robbers and murderers from the West can't get you here.
But then, on a Friday morning in December 1979, a rumor
suddenly began spreading through the city. His mother, a store manager
at the market in Gotha, heard it from her customers. Everybody knew
somebody who worked in the palace -- and everybody had heard something. It became official the next day, with the local newspaper printing a
short report from the state-run news agency ADN: "On Thursday night,
unknown perpetrators stole five valuable paintings by Old Masters from
the Castle Museum. The stolen artworks are valued at several million
marks. Police have launched an urgent investigation."
In those December days in 1979, Knut Kreuch's childhood illusion of
being insulated from crime was shattered. Now, if the lights went out as
he was walking down the stairs to the washing machine, he would know
that robbers were everywhere, even on the east side of the wall. What he
could not have known is that 40 years later, he would play a decisive
role in finally getting back the paintings stolen in the largest art
theft in the history of East Germany.
The Stolen Pictures Last Monday, Kreuch -- a satisfied smile on his face and his hands
folded calmly in his lap -- was sitting in his office in Gotha's baroque
town hall on the city's central square. A member of the center-left
Social Democrats, he has been the mayor of Gotha since 2006. And on
Monday, his mood could hardly have been better. After all, it looked as
though the five stolen artworks, after having been missing for 40 years,
were finally back in safekeeping -- thanks entirely to him. In the
several months preceding, he had made a risky wager, but early last
week, his confidence was growing that he had won. What he didn't know last Monday, of course, was that just a few
days later, on Thursday, investigators with the Berlin State Criminal
Police (LKA) would fan out across the country to search the offices and
apartments of three witnesses and two suspects, both of whom are
suspected of blackmail and possession of stolen goods. First the
artworks reappeared. Now, the focus is on solving the criminal case that
was opened so many decades ago.
One of the offices searched last Thursday morning at 9:30 a.m. was
that of a lawyer in a southern German city. In recent years, the lawyer
has become a specialist in rehabilitating artworks from dubious sources
so they can re-enter legal circulation. Kreuch knows the man because he
participated in a deal not long ago which saw Gotha buy back a valuable
piece of art that had once belonged to the Castle Museum.
As a result, Kreuch was immediately amenable when the lawyer called
him in June 2018 asking for a meeting, a face-to-face which then took
place in the town hall of Gotha a short time later. The lawyer told the
unsuspecting mayor that he had recently been approached by someone, and
then he laid five photos, one after the other, on the table. Kreuch was
immediately electrified. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. The
stolen pictures from Gotha!
Kreuch was initially speechless. He had launched a media campaign
10 years earlier in a desperate attempt to get the stolen artworks back
for the city. At the time, he was worried that an important statute of
limitations would expire. But beyond a couple of clues that proved to be
dead ends, there was nothing. No trace of the paintings.
On that night way back on Dec. 14, 1979, a temperature and humidity
datalogger in the museum recorded a sudden drop in temperatures. The
thieves had managed to access a window almost 10 meters (33 feet) off
the ground, scaling the outside walls of the castle with the help of
climbing spurs and a lightning rod before scoring the pane with a glass
cutter, taping the glass and breaking in.
Broken Bits of Frame The window led them into the gallery where Dutch Masters were on
display and they removed four paintings from Frans Hals, Anthonis van
Dyck, Jan Brueghel the Elder and Jan Lievens. From the next gallery, the
home of Old German Masters, they swiped a piece from Hans Holbein the
Elder before lowering all five paintings to the ground using a cord.
A call from the museum reached the Gotha Volkspolizei (People's
Police) at 7:10 a.m. the next morning. Officers would later find picture
frame fragments around the base of the lightning rod and along the
route the thieves took through the surrounding park as they escaped,
leading officials to conclude that the artworks had been damaged. In
January 1980, the director of the East Berlin Gemäldegalerie art museum
estimated the value of the five works to be 4.5 million West German
marks.
The Volkspolizei and the Ministry for State Security (Stasi)
immediately assembled a substantial team to investigate the spectacular
robbery, with the Stasi launching Operation Old Masters and the
Volkspolizei assigning 95 officers to the case. The search for the works
of art expanded across all of East Germany, with every possible lead
being pursued. In late July 1980, Major Grüner from the criminal
investigation department in Gotha wrote a detailed case report in which
he noted that 1,027 people who lived or worked near the crime scene had
been checked. In addition, he noted that an additional 252 people with
some sort of connection to the Castle Museum were being monitored. Police and Stasi officials checked hundreds of prison inmates and
ex-prisoners in addition to interrogating 189 "burglars from the Erfurt
district who had been amnestied and released." The homes of 86 of them
were likewise searched. In total, investigators interviewed several
thousand people in connection with the investigation and searched 1,045
vehicles.
It was exactly the kind of dragnet investigation the police state
of East Germany was designed for -- yet they found nothing. The
paintings were gone. In the mid-1980s, the Stasi and the Volkspolizei
largely abandoned the investigation, leaving the largest art theft in
East German history to remain unsolved.
And yet suddenly, last June, here was the lawyer from southern
Germany sitting in the town hall of Gotha and offering a deal to the
mayor. His clients, the lawyer said, according to Kreuch's recollection,
were interested in returning the paintings, but he wanted to learn
whether the city of Gotha wanted them back. After all, the lawyer
continued, his clients were demanding money.
A Vague Group of Heirs Kreuch showed interest, but made it clear even during this initial
visit that the city was not in a position to buy the paintings. Without a
partner, the mayor said, it wouldn't work. He carefully tried to find
out who the lawyer's clients might be, but the lawyer remained vague.
It seemed to be a group of heirs who allegedly had no idea as to
how their deceased forebears had acquired the paintings, but Kreuch was
only able to learn a few pieces of the story during this initial
encounter. He was told that the artworks had been taken out of East
Germany to the West years after the break-in, but the Gotha mayor was
not initially told how many clients the lawyer was representing, what
their names were or even where they lived.
It also remained unclear how much money was being demanded in
exchange for the paintings, with the lawyer declining to name a price.
Kreuch figured he was just trying to get the lay of the land. After an
hour or so, he packed up his photos, the quality of which left quite a
bit to be desired. They showed the paintings from the front and the
back, but the most sensational thing about them was that they were color
photographs.
For the last 40 years, only the museum's official inventory
photographs had been available -- in black-and-white. But a few years
before the lawyer's visit to the mayor of Gotha, a color photo had
appeared in a London auction catalogue that looked to be of one of the
stolen paintings. It caused quite a commotion in the art world, with
many thinking that it might finally offer a clue to the whereabouts of
the five stolen paintings. But it didn't. The photo apparently only
showed a copy of one of the paintings stolen from Gotha.
Kreuch had three messages he wanted the lawyer to take back with
him to southern Germany. First, he was extremely interested in bringing
the paintings back to Gotha. Second, he needed to know how the lawyer's
clients had come into possession of the paintings and where they had
been for the last four decades. And third, he was not interested in
legal proceedings but wanted an amicable settlement.
The two men agreed to stay in contact, but the visit left the mayor
in a difficult situation. After all, he had no mandate to close such a
sensitive deal on his own. But if he had informed his staff and city
officials, it was extremely possible that the news would leak, which
could have killed the deal.
Reasonable Price? Kreuch decided to keep his cards close to his chest and told nobody
in Gotha of his meeting with the lawyer. Instead, he paid a visit in
September to Martin Hoernes, an art historian who was general secretary
of the Ernst von Siemens Art Foundation, which supports the purchase of
art by public collections.
Hoernes had helped the mayor buy back a valuable ivory tankard that
had disappeared out of the Castle Museum and his foundation was
experienced in reclaiming artworks that had been stolen. But clear rules
applied to such transactions: The foundation never purchased pieces
directly from the thieves themselves; the seller had to reveal how they
had come into possession of the artwork in question; and the price had
to be reasonable.
But what is reasonable? Stolen paintings are not traded on the
legal art market. They are registered with Interpol and with various
other databases for art that had disappeared.
Hoernes expressed a willingness to help, so Kreuch remained in
touch with the southern German lawyer. The mayor recalls that they would
sometimes speak on the phone several times in one week before not
having any contact at all for several weeks in a row. They would chat
about the weather, about this and that, essentially sizing each other
up. Kreuch had the impression that the lawyer was testing him, trying to
determine how serious Gotha was about reacquiring the paintings.
The mayor, meanwhile, wanted to do all he could to prevent the
contact from breaking off, seeing it as his only chance to get the
vanished paintings back. An absurd element of German law holds that an
owner's right to return expires after 30 years. If the lawyer had chosen
to discontinue talks, Kreuch would have been the clear loser. The Old
Masters from Gotha would likely have remained lost forever.
In the talks, Kreuch followed a two-pronged strategy. He did his
best to convince the lawyer to have the paintings examined by an
evaluator to ensure that they were, in fact, authentic. And he continued
to insist that he be told how they came into the possession of those
who were selling them, preferably in writing.
Gradually, according to Kreuch's recollections, the numerous
conversations began to form the outlines of a story. There were, to be
sure, plenty of gaps. Parts of it sounded implausible and elements
changed from time to time, but there was one constant of particular
legal relevance. The family that possessed the paintings had apparently
always known that they had come from the Gotha art heist. But according
to law, only those who possess something in good faith -- who don't know
that it has been stolen, in other words -- can acquire ownership "by
adverse possession," essentially the legalistic term for "squatters
rights." This, however, was apparently not the case when it came to the
southern German lawyer's clients.
Sidestepping Demands According to the mayor, the Stasi played an important role in the
stories the lawyer told him. Not surprising, Kreuch thought. The lawyer
also mentioned a significant sum that had allegedly been paid to an East
German agency, but it wasn't clear which one. For Kreuch, it was all
too vague. He wanted evidence and the name of the family, but the
lawyer, according to Kreuch's impression, continually sidestepped such
demands.
Finally, though, after a long period of silence that lasted several
months, the lawyer came up with a purchase price for the five
paintings. And it wasn't insignificant. He wanted 5.25 million euros. Kreuch recalls that the lawyer told him toward the end of last year
that he wanted to come to Gotha and bring along one of the five
paintings so that it could be examined to ensure authenticity. But this
time, it was Kreuch who tapped the brakes. No, he said, he wanted all of
the paintings at once or none at all. Again, weeks of silence ensued.
By now, the lawyer knew that Hoernes from the Ernst von Siemens
Foundation was involved, but his exclusive negotiation partner remained
Mayor Kreuch. In spring, things started moving more quickly. The lawyer, says
Kreuch, suddenly offered to travel to Gotha town hall with all five of
the paintings. But Kreuch delayed once again, asking what he was
supposed to do with the works of art in the town hall. Instead, he
insisted that they be brought to Berlin, where they could be examined in
the Rathgen Research Laboratory, part of the German capital's publicly
held art collections, known as the Staatlichen Museen.
The lawyer hesitated before ultimately agreeing. He sent Kreuch a
five-page settlement agreement that included the 5.25-million-euro
purchase price. The contract seemed contestable, but Kreuch signed
anyway. As a ruse. What else could he have done? He saw it as the only
possibility to get the paintings back and Hoernes had indicated that the
Ernst von Siemens Foundation was prepared to cover the outlay should it
come to that.
The plan foresaw the paintings being handed over on Sept. 30 in
Berlin, and the Rathgen Laboratory had agreed to be involved, but
lawyers from the Staatlichen Museen had their doubts about examining
stolen artwork in a state institution. On Sept. 12, they informed the
Berlin LKA of the upcoming transfer.
Kreuch and Hoernes would have liked to settle the issue amicably,
hoping that doing so would increase their chances of getting other
artworks back that had disappeared from Gotha's holdings. But now the
police were involved, and they follow their own rules. Over at the LKA,
René Allonge took over the case.
Covert Surveillance A senior criminal investigator, Allonge enjoyed great respect within the art scene. Back in 2011, he dragged theprolific art forger Wolfgang Beltracchi into court before following up that coup by tracking down thegigantic bronze horses
that had stood in front of Hitler's Chancellery in Berlin. Now, he
hoped to be able to solve the mystery of the Gotha art heist.
Allonge arranged covert surveillance for the planned handover on
Sept. 30 and he also coordinated with Kreuch, Hoernes and the head of
the institute to arrange for an undercover investigator to take part in
the meeting. The plan called for him to be identified as Hoernes'
supervisor, responsible for ultimately approving payment. The lawyer,
they felt, would have a hard time refusing his participation. The handover took place at midday, with the lawyer from southern
Germany turning up alone. They chatted for a while before the lawyer
then signed the settlement agreement and grabbed his mobile phone. At
1:30 p.m., Allonge's surveillance team watched as a Mercedes Sprinter
delivery van drove up to the back of the institute. A man stepped out
and unloaded five packed objects. He didn't give his name and seemed
anxious, but he remained for the rest of the encounter.
The packages were unpacked and, once the bubble wrap was removed,
there they were, the five Old Masters from Gotha that had been missing
for 40 years. They were in cheap frames and had apparently been cleaned,
but they looked authentic. It was now up to the institute to determine
if they were, in fact, real.
As soon as the paintings were secure, the tone of the meeting
became less cordial, with the disguised investigator demanding that the
unidentified van driver finally tell the story behind the paintings. He
said that following the death of his father three years before, he
became part of a group of heirs. He and four other heirs had each
possessed one of the paintings, which he had collected in the past few
days. Ongoing Investigation His father, the van driver related, had been a prisoner of war in
Russia and had met a man there named "Hans," who later emigrated to
Australia. Hans' son was then imprisoned in East Germany, according to
the story told by the van driver, whereupon the van driver's father paid
a million marks from an inheritance to get Hans' son released, though
it's not clear to whom the money was paid. In return for buying Hans'
son out of prison, the van driver's father received the paintings as
collateral. The LKA ran a check on the van's license plates and found that it
was owned by a medical doctor from northwest Germany and it didn't take
long to find pictures of the man on the internet. It turned out to be
the man who had, in fact, brought the paintings to Berlin. But his story
sounded extremely unlikely to the investigators, and it turns out their
skepticism was justified.
Allonge checked out the facts and they weren't true. The doctor's
parents had bequeathed almost nothing to their children and there were
no indications that the father had ever been a prisoner of war in
Russia. Furthermore, he had only died a year-and-a-half earlier, not
three. The upshot is that it remains unclear how the man came into
possession of the valuable paintings. Were the thieves from his family?
Did relatives of his buy the stolen works of art? And how much of the
story did he know?
Police are now investigating the doctor and the lawyer on suspicion
of blackmail and possession of stolen goods. DER SPIEGEL was unable to
reach the doctor and the lawyer declined comment because of the ongoing
investigation. The presumption of innocence until proven guilty, of
course, applies to both.
In the raids last Thursday, Berlin investigators seized numerous
documents that must now be examined and analyzed. The largest art heist
in the history of East Germany is far from being solved. Kreuch, for his
part, isn't optimistic: He doesn't think he will ever learn the whole
truth about the Gotha break-in. Perhaps it's time for another episode of
"Unsolved Mysteries." Secret negotiations bring
return of stolen paintings after 40 years
Among the
five paintings stolen from the Schloss Friedenstein was Holy Katharina by
Holbein.
Two
figures stole up to the west wall of a palace in East Germany, dug their
crampons into the masonry and began to climb.
They
swiftly reached a gutter on the second floor and pried open a window. Slipping
inside, they took precisely what they had come for on that night in December
1979: five masterpieces of the northern Renaissance, including a landscape by
Bruegel the Elder and a self-portrait by Anthony van Dyck.
The art
robbery of Gotha, as it is known in Germany, was the most spectacular and
costly theft of its kind in the communist state and has remained an
impenetrable whodunnit for 40 years — until now.
All five
of the missing paintings, with a collective value of more than £40 million,
have been returned to the authorities under murky circumstances.
Over the
past week police have raided several addresses across the country as they try
to piece together the story of what happened to the artworks.
All that
is known for certain about that night in 1979 is what was taken from the
Schloss Friedenstein, a sprawling baroque palace built in the 17th century by
distant relatives of the British royal family.
The
paintings were all of exceptional quality: beside the Van Dyck and the Bruegel,
the thieves also stole Holy Katherina, one of Holbein the Elder’s most
admired court portraits, and works by the Flemish Old Masters Frans Hals and
Jan Lievens.
Those
choices led police to suspect that they were dealing with a theft-to-order
commissioned by a wealthy and unscrupulous collector because several Cranach
paintings hanging near by — which would have sold for a higher price on the
black market — were left untouched.
For a
time the list of suspects included the staff of the aristocratic dynasty of
Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, which built the palace; the Stasi colonel Alexander
Schalck-Golodkowski; and the Wisdom siblings, a famous family troupe of trapeze
artists.
The modus
operandi of the theft bore a strong resemblance to a break-in last month at the
Green Vault gallery 150 miles away in Dresden, when diamonds and other jewels
worth at least €10 million were stolen in the early hours of the morning.
The trail
was cold until last summer when the Schloss Friedenstein foundation was
contacted by an unidentified group of people who said that they had the
artworks and would return them for a price.
After
almost a year and a half of secret negotiations, the paintings have been handed
over and are being examined by art historians in Berlin to determine whether
they are the real thing or simply clever copies.
Several
police forces are attempting to fill in the blanks. Even if the original
thieves are alive, they cannot be prosecuted under the statute of limitations.
However,
the Berlin constabulary told the newspaper Der Tagesspiegel that it was
investigating two men, aged 46 and 54, on suspicion of extortion and handling
stolen goods.
If the
force’s theory is correct, it would imply that the paintings have changed hands
at least once since they were stolen.
A lawyer
for the gallery said that the people who approached it with the artworks had
given a “quixotic, unverifiable and implausible” account of how they had
obtained them.
There is
also some dispute over who now owns the paintings because the theft may no
longer be recognised as a crime.
Reports
suggest that the Schloss Friedenstein foundation has offered to pay a €5
million “finder’s fee” to settle the case and return the paintings to its
walls.
Art Hostage Comments:
If authorities allow the 5 million euro finders fee to be paid to anyone other than a "participating Informant", then it sends a terrible message to the art crime world, that buying back stolen art is back on the menu.
This coming at a time when Germany is still reeling from the Dresden Green Vault Heist. Paying out any finders fee on the Gotha art recovery sends a message to the criminal art underworld that if they wait long enough after an art heist, payments will be made.
It also encourages future art crime, putting a great big target on Museums and public collections, which throughout Europe and beyond are vulnerable to attack.
Today, December 4th 2019, the Oscar Wilde ring recovered by Arthur Brand was officially handed back to the Oxford College from where it was stolen from back in 2002.
Arthur Brand, never one to miss a media circus and incert himself into the narrative, has remained in Holland, after being spooked by the Art Hostage article questioning the legality in the recovery of the Oscar Wilde ring.
Alternatively, Arthur Brand was advised to stay away from the Oscar Wilde ring handover by lawyers.
Having read the UK 1968 Theft Act I can see at least two sections of the law which Arthur Brand Brand might have broken, intentionally, or unintentionally.
http://www.legislation.gov.uk/ukpga/1968/60
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Offences relating to goods stolen etc.
22 Handling stolen goods.
(1)A person handles stolen goods if (otherwise than in the course of the stealing) knowing or believing them to be stolen goods he dishonestly receives the goods, or dishonestly undertakes or assists in their retention, removal, disposal or realisation by or for the benefit of another person, or if he arranges to do so.
(2)A person guilty of handling stolen goods shall on conviction on indictment be liable to imprisonment for a term not exceeding fourteen years.
23 Advertising rewards for return of goods stolen or lost.
Where any public advertisement of a reward for the return of any goods which have been stolen or lost uses any words to the effect that no questions will be asked, or that the person producing the goods will be safe from apprehension or inquiry, or that any money paid for the purchase of the goods or advanced by way of loan on them will be repaid, the person advertising the reward and any person who prints or publishes the advertisement shall on summary conviction be liable to a fine not exceeding [F18level 3 on the standard scale.]
------------------------------------------------------------
Clearly, Arthur Brand breaches the "removal and retention" in section 22 (1)
Arthur Brand says he recovered the Oscar Willde ring in Hatton Garden London, then took it back to Holland, where it was then bought back from Holland for todays handover at the Oxford College.
Even if Police gave Arthur Brand express permission to take the recovered Oscar Wilde ring back to Holland, this does not prevent the breaking of the law itself.
These actions, however innocent, even with the best intentions, in my humble view breach sections 22 and 23 of the UK 1968 Theft Act and may also breach the 2002 Proceeds of Crime Act.
It reminds me of the story about a person breaking into a drug store to steal medicine vital for their wife. The verdict was a window broken, but a life saved.
In this case, Arthur Brand broke the law but saved the Oscar Wilde ring.
I await with baited breath the response of Mr Arthur Brand.
Furthermore, the alter-ego of Chris Marinello, Frank Veritas, has posted an interesting response to the Oscar Wilde ring being handed back today:
Funny old world..........................................
Oscar Wilde's stolen friendship ring returned to Magdalen College
A ring Oscar Wilde once gifted to a friend has been returned to an Oxford University college 17 years after it was stolen.
The 18-carat gold friendship ring was taken from Magdalen College in 2002 and tracked down by Dutch art detective Arthur Brand.
Wilde was a student at the college and gave the ring to William Ward in 1876.
Prof Sir David Clary, president of Magdalen, said he was "delighted" the ring had come home.
Mr
Brand, who was unable to attend the presentation, procured it with the
help of commodity broker George Crump, who had "knowledge of the London
criminal underworld", The Telegraph reported.
The art detective previously said there were "very strong indications" the ring was taken in the Hatton Garden jewellery raid in 2015.
He said: "We heard these rumours a few weeks after the robbery. We heard very strong rumours it was linked to this theft.
"It ended up in the hands of a person who nearly had a heart attack when they realised it was Oscar Wilde's ring."
Mr Crump explained to the BBC that he "got the word out" about the ring among his contacts.
"I
didn't think it would come back - it was impossible - and basically, lo
and behold, A went to B, to C, to D, down the line," he said.
"It was recovered in Hatton Garden which was an unbelievable moment.
"I
was absolutely astonished. A small thing like that that could have been
chucked away and lost forever. A needle in a haystack."
College bursar Mark Blandford-Baker said: "We'd long given it up as having been melted down".
Sir David said: "We thought it had disappeared, so it was a surprise when we heard it had been found.
"We could hardly believe it.... We're very grateful to everyone who helped bring the ring back."
So, what happened?
Did Arthur Brand recover the Oscar Wilde ring in Hatton Garden London, as he claims in the media, then smuggle it to Holland, where he will bring it back to the UK for the December 4th handover at the Oxford Collage?
Or did George Crump recover the Oscar Wilde ring in Hatton Garden London, then smuggle it to Holland to hand over to Arthur Brand in Holland?
Or did George Crump and William Veres smuggle the Oscar Wilde ring to Holland together and hand it over to Arthur Brand in Holland?
With the sensational claims of a link to the infamous Hatton Garden Heist and the Oscar Wilde ring, surely Law Enforcement would be interested to know if any of the other Hatton Garden Heist haul was smuggled to Holland by Arthur Crump, William Veres or indeed Arthur Brand?
Did Arthur Brand use some of the Picasso reward to pay for the Oscar Wilde ring?
Did Arthur Brand pay £5,000 to buy back the Oscar Wilde ring because the publicity and media attention would be worth much more than £5,000?
Where has the Oscar Wilde ring been since it was recovered?
Have Thames Valley Police signed off the Oscar Wilde ring recovery?
Were Thames Valley Police told of the Oscar Wilde ring recovery before it was recovered?
To be continued.........................
Rembrandt Art Heist Foiled by Police Intruder chased down by officers after removing treasures from Dulwich Picture Gallery
Rembrandts' Light at Dulwich Picture Gallery
An attempted heist of two Rembrandt paintings from Dulwich Picture Gallery was last night foiled in dramatic fashion by police after they pursued a would-be thief through the grounds of the gallery to recover the works of the 17th-century Dutch master.
Intruders broke into the south London gallery late on Wednesday night, targeting the Rembrandt’s Light exhibition featuring works by one of the world’s greatest artists.
After an alarm had gone off, officers were called to the gallery at 11.30pm, the Metropolitan Police said in a statement.
Finding signs of forced entry and two pictures missing, the officers searched the area around the gallery, where they encountered an intruder and gave chase.
“The intruder then turned and used a canister to spray the officer in the face with an unknown substance. As a result of this assault, the suspect was able to get away,” the Metropolitan Police said in the statement, adding that the officer who was sprayed did not suffer serious injuries.
The paintings were then located and recovered by the police and the gallery’s security staff. “Neither painting had left the gallery grounds and both remain in the gallery’s care,” the statement said.
Jason Barber, a Metropolitan Police detective inspector, said: “This was an audacious attempted burglary and was clearly planned in advance. Two paintings in the exhibition were targeted and it was only down to the prompt response of gallery security staff and the courage and swift intervention of officers that these two works of art were not stolen. Thankfully both the paintings were quickly recovered and secured.”
“Our enquiries now centre on finding whoever was responsible for this crime and I would ask anyone with information to call police.”
The gallery said the intrusion had been detected by its security systems, including a new “state of the art” alarm system installed specifically for the Rembrandt’s Light exhibition and certified by Arts Council England. “On-site security staff responded immediately, as did the Metropolitan Police who arrived within minutes,” the gallery said.
Asked whether the paintings had sustained any damage as a result of the botched raid, the gallery said its senior curatorial staff were working with advisers to assess the impact on the two works.
The gallery has closed its doors until further notice while the police conduct an investigation. It said it would compensate those who had paid for tickets to the show, which opened on October 4 and was due to end on February 2.
It declined to say which of the 35 pictures in the show had been removed but many had been on loan, including from the Louvre and the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam. Highlights included “Philemon and Baucis”, which was appearing in the UK for the first time; “Christ and St Mary Magdalen at the Tomb”; and three of Rembrandt’s best-known paintings of women: “A Woman Bathing in a Stream”, “A Woman in Bed” and the gallery’s own Rembrandt, “Girl at a Window”.
Rembrandt’s prominence has been boosted over the past year as galleries around the world have marked the 350th anniversary of his death in 1669.
World's most stolen painting
It
is not the first that Rembrandt works have been targeted at Dulwich
Picture Gallery, which opened in 1817 and is the oldest public art
gallery in England.
On
new year’s eve in 1966, a gang including a jobless ambulance driver
broke in to steal eight pictures, including three works by Rembrandt.
One
of the Rembrandts taken in that raid - a portrait of fellow painter
Jacob de Gheyn III - has subsequently gone on to become the world’s most
stolen art work, having been stolen at least four times from the
gallery and recovered in locations from a left luggage office in Germany
to a park bench in Streatham, close to the gallery. The last time it
was stolen was in 1983.
It was not known yesterday whether the portrait has now been the target of a fifth theft.
Man, 35, arrested after thieves steal £4.8million solid gold toilet from Blenheim Palace days after it’s unveiled
A 35-YEAR-OLD man has today been arrested after a solid gold toilet worth £4.8m was stolen from Blenheim Palace.
The 18-carat masterpiece was swiped in a 5am raid just two days after it went on display at Winston Churchill's birthplace in Woodstock, Oxon.
Thames Valley Police today confirmed the man from London was arrested on suspicion of handling stolen goods.
The loo has never been found after the September raid - with fears it could be melted down by thieves.
Police previously revealed the thieves had used at least two cars to snatch the toilet.
It was created by Italian artist Maurizio Cattelan and proved popular
when it went on display at the Guggenheim museum in New York in 2016.
The masterpiece was once offered to President Donald Trump who turned it down.
The Duke of Marlborough’s half-brother and founder of the Blenheim
Art Foundation Edward Spencer-Churchill previously told the Times:
"Despite being born with a silver spoon in my mouth I have never had a
s*** on a golden toilet, so I look forward to it."
He also explained it "wouldn't be the easiest thing to nick", adding:
"Firstly, it’s plumbed in and secondly, a potential thief will have no
idea who last used the toilet or what they ate.
"So no, I don’t plan to be guarding it."
COPS INVESTIGATE
Cops said: "A 35-year-old man from London was arrested this morning
on suspicion of handling stolen goods and remains in police custody.
"The arrest is in connection with an incident on September 14 this year, when a golden toilet was stolen from Blenheim Palace."
Previously, a 66-year-old man from Evesham, Worcs., was arrested on suspicion of burglary.
A 35-year-old man from Cheltenham, Gloucs., was also arrested on suspicion of conspiracy to burgle.
A 35-year-old man, a 34-year-old man and a 36-year-old woman, all
from Oxford, were arrested on suspicion of conspiring to commit a
burglary other than a dwelling.
The main suspect in Britain’s longest running murder investigation
is seeking damages following his acquittal over the stolen art
collection of cider baron and former Tory MP Esmond Bulmer.
A notorious private investigator wrongly accused of being involved in
the £2 million heist of a private art collection belonging to the Bulmer
cider family is preparing to sue Avon and Somerset police and
prosecutors for damages.
The case against Jonathan Rees, which has already cost the local
taxpayer an estimated £1 million, was quietly dropped last week by the
Bristol Complex Case Unit after a three-year legal battle.
Rees will now seek substantial compensation through the civil court,
which it is hoped will shine light on the curious decision making in
this strangest of cases that the Cable first exclusively reported in its
Dark Arts true crime series earlier this year.
It can now be reported that prosecutors ignored damning criticisms by
four senior judges about the quality of evidence against Rees and
continued throwing money at the case until their humiliating climbdown
last Wednesday at Bristol crown court.
The private detective says he is the victim of a “vendetta” by
London’s Metropolitan police, who separately have been trying for three
decades to convict him for the axe murder of his business partner,
Daniel Morgan, a crime he strongly denies.
That case is the longest running unsolved murder in British policing
history and a major embarrassment for the Met and crown prosecution
service (CPS) whose efforts have been mired by incompetence, corruption
and cover ups.
Kieran Galvin, Rees’ barrister, who confirmed that a claim for
damages is underway, said: “The case in Bristol against my client is a
scandal, a significant waste of public funds and a serious and
deleterious affront to justice.”
The private investigator believes Avon and Somerset police were pressured by the Met to pursue the art heist case against him.
The Bulmer art heist
Rees was being prosecuted over his role in the recovery of a private
art collection stolen in 2009 from the Somerset mansion of Esmond
Bulmer, the cider baron and former Tory MP.
Court documents show there was liaison between the two forces, but
the CPS redacted discussions about Rees when the documents were
disclosed to his legal team in preparation for the trial last year.
The court file also shows that Bulmer lobbied then home secretary
Theresa May and the chief constable of Avon and Somerset police to
investigate the theft after describing initial efforts by Yeovil police
as “brain dead”.
A new team of organised crime detectives based at Portishead HQ were
appointed but remained largely clueless until Rees came forward in July
2015 with information about the whereabouts of the paintings.
The private investigator is a resourceful operator with connections
in the underworld, law enforcement and the press. He featured
prominently during the inquiry by Lord Leveson into media standards due
to his work for The News of The World.
On this occasion, Rees was acting as an intermediary for an ex-SAS
soldier who had access to those controlling the stolen Bulmer art
collection.
Between July and August 2015, the pair recovered 11 of the 12 stolen
paintings. Avon and Somerset police oversaw the recovery and the
National Crime Agency authorised the payment of a £175,000 reward by the
insurance company Hiscox. They were happy to recover the art having
already paid out £1.2 million to Bulmer immediately following the
robbery.
However, in August 2016 Rees was suddenly arrested and charged with conspiracy to commit fraud on the insurance firm.
At the time of his arrest, Rees was suing the Met for malicious
prosecution and misfeasance in a public office in relation to the Morgan
murder. That trial had collapsed in 2011, largely due to police
corruption by the senior officer in the case.
The Met was facing a substantial damages claim and, to make matters
worse, Theresa May had ordered an inquiry into corruption in the Morgan
murder, which is due to report this year.
Rees said: “The Met provided a substantial amount of historic
documents from the Morgan murder trial in order to persuade the Bristol
prosecutors and police to ensure they continued the case against me. I
was informed by an Avon and Somerset officer that the Met wanted the
case to continue as it undermined my civil case against them.”
Acquitted but not off the hook
The Bulmer case was weak from the start and then fatally undermined
at trial when two key prosecution witnesses told the jury that Rees had
acted as an “honest broker”.
Judge Lambert threw out the case and acquitted all defendants on 6
July 2018. The trial judge went on to blast the prosecution case as
having no more than “fragments of suspicion and coincidences”. Evidence,
he said, was “signally lacking” and amounted to “conjectural
theorising”.
However, the CPS surprised many by immediately appealing Lambert’s
ruling. But in February 2019 the appeal court ruled that Lambert was
correct to throw out the case. Three judges described the prosecution
case as “unacceptably tenuous” and “nowhere near” meeting legal
requirements.
In normal circumstances such judicial condemnation would signal the
end. But instead, the CPS announced in April 2019 that it was going to
prosecute Rees on a new charge of perverting the course of justice.
By this time, the CPS had appointed a new lead prosecutor because
Stephen Mooney QC had been made a judge. A new trial was set for January
2020.
This decision-making by the CPS in Bristol was done against the
backdrop of serious embarrassment for the CPS and the Met in London.
Firstly, Rees' acquittal in the art heist case coincided with him
winning his malicious prosecution claim over the Morgan murder.
Therefore, when the Bristol CPS decided to appeal Lambert’s judgment,
their colleagues in London were already looking at ways to reduce the
compensation pay out due to Rees.
“The Met would have to pay fewer damages to Rees if they could show
he had a propensity for on-going criminality – a conviction in Bristol
would help them,” Rees’ barrister explained.
He believes this could well explain why the CPS in Bristol took the
remarkable decision to bring a new charge against Rees for perverting
the course of justice and keep the art heist case alive.
The Morgan case: corruption and compensation
The decision was all the more peculiar because in London the CPS had
already decided in November 2018 not to prosecute Dave Cook, the senior
officer in the Morgan case, for a similar offence.
Cook's corrupt acts had collapsed the murder trial and led to a
finding of malicious prosecution. Five high court judges said he had
perverted the course of justice by coaching witnesses to implicate Rees
and others in the murder.
Nevertheless, the CPS in London decided there was insufficient
evidence and it was not in the public interest to prosecute Cook for
perverting the course of justice.
The retired officer refuses to comment but a source close to Cook
said he had made it clear to the Met that if he stood trial he was not
going quietly.
In a further twist, the CPS claimed on 13 June 2019 in a letter to
Rees, who had asked for a review, that Cook’s conduct didn’t reach "the
high level of culpability calculated to injure the public interest so as
to call for condemnation and punishment”.
But weeks later on 31 July, that was exactly why Mrs Justice
Chema-Grubb awarded Rees £155,000 in damages for malicious prosecution.
£50,000 was punitive damages to show the court’s concern at Cook’s
conduct.
Her ruling said: “Adequate punishment and public censure requires a
separate award of exemplary damages to mark the court’s denunciation of
DCS Cook’s unconstitutional behaviour as an agent of the state … This
award is to highlight and condemn the egregious and shameful police
behaviour of a senior and experienced police officer. He was warned
about his behaviour on several occasions and misled superior officers.
Axiomatically, honest belief in guilt cannot justify prosecuting a
suspect on false evidence … there is no place for any form of
‘noble-cause’ justification for corrupt practices in those trusted to
uphold the law.”
With the Met’s fight lost – it is estimated that the Morgan case has
cost near to £100 million – on 24 October the CPS in Bristol quietly
offered no evidence against Rees over the Bulmer art heist.
If they hoped this would draw a line, they are wrong as Rees is preparing to sue.
At the time of publishing, the Bristol Complex Case Unit had not replied to the Cable’s request for comment.
Christie’s Auctioned a $40 Million Diamond. Was It Stolen?
The
diamond was bought by a member of the Qatari royal family, but the
descendants of an Italian politician say it belongs to them. They have
sued the auction house and its client, a gems dealer.
Update
Oct. 31, 2019: A New York appellate court on Thursday put the case on
hold while it hears an appeal filed by the defendants.
This is the story of one of those diamonds so exquisite it was given a cute little name: the Princie.
Yet despite
its diminutive moniker, the Princie is a big stone — 34.65 carats —
that sparkles in the cheerful color of a flamingo and is valued at $40
million. It was last known to be packed away in a storage facility in
Switzerland, where it was sent by a member of the Qatari royal family
after he bought it.
But is that where it should be?
That question is the subject of a trial about to begin this week in New York Supreme Court where an Italian family has accused Christie’s, the auction house, of selling the diamond despite accusations that it had been stolen.
The
descendants of a once powerful Italian senator say the diamond is
rightfully theirs, and that their stepbrother absconded with it after
his mother died. But the stepbrother has insisted the diamond was his to
sell. Christie’s says the family members have no proof the diamond
belongs to them and that, regardless, its client, who bought it from the
stepbrother, had every right to sell the stone.
It
is a case sprinkled with royalty and rich people, the nuances of
Italian law and with questions about the responsibilities of auction
houses when there is a dispute about who owns a sale item.
The
diamond, cut from the Golconda mines in India, made its first recorded
appearance in the 1700s as part of the collection of the Nizam of
Hyderabad, an Indian monarch. The plaintiffs say the diamond, about the size
of a Cerignola olive, was bought by Senator Renato Angiolillo at Van
Cleef & Arpels in 1960, the same year he married his second wife,
Maria Girani Angiolillo. It had been named “Princie” in honor of the
14-year-old Prince of Baroda, a former state of India, who came to a party that year at the Van Cleef & Arpels store in Paris, along with his mother.
Mr. Angiolillo was a man who liked — and could afford — nice things.
He owned fabulous real estate, one of Italy’s largest newspapers, Il
Tempo, and a stable of thoroughbred horses. A family member said he used
to carry small diamonds around in his pocket so he could fiddle with
them throughout the day.
Mr. Angiolillo died in 1973, and here, things get complicated. Under Italian law at the time, as court documents explain,
all of his possessions should have gone to his children, not his
spouse, unless they were explicitly left to her. His will said his wife
should keep their home near the Spanish Steps in Rome and its lavish furnishings. But nothing else was mentioned. So the lawsuit argues that the rest of the estate, including the diamond, belongs to his descendants — Mr. Angiolillo’s surviving son and four grandchildren are the plaintiffs in this case.
But the auction house and its co-defendants said that the diamond, set in a ring, was a gift to Ms. Angiolillo, and so was owned by her, not her husband, when he died.
And even if the transfer of ownership between them was not official, the
defendants argue, the way she kept control of the ring in the decades
that followed his death made it legally hers.
No one disputes that Ms. Angiolillo held on to the diamond for more than 35 years after she became his
widow, but Mr. Angiolillo’s descendants say it should have been turned
over to them after she died as part of their inheritance.
Instead
the whereabouts of the diamond became something of a mystery. Amedeo
Angiolillo — the senator’s remaining son — tried to contact his
stepbrother, Marco Milella, to ask for the diamond back. He had no luck.
Eventually, Mr. Milella responded through a lawyer who said, in
essence: Diamond? What diamond?
“My client has informed me that he is unaware of the existence of the assets of the type that you have indicated,” the lawyer said.
The
Italian authorities opened a criminal investigation into the missing
diamond and some other expensive jewelry. In 2013, they raided the home of Mr. Milella and that of his girlfriend, and found some of it: a necklace and earrings from Van Cleef & Arpels. They didn’t find the diamond.
Mr.
Milella told the authorities that he had legally inherited the jewelry,
including the diamond, from his mother, according to court records, and
— in a bit of a departure from the defendants’ argument — that she had inherited it from her husband.
But by that point, the diamond was long gone. He had sold it years earlier for nearly $20 million to a prominent gems dealer in Switzerland named David Gol.
The
Italian courts dismissed the claims against Mr. Milella on statute of
limitations grounds. (He is a not defendant in the current lawsuit, but Mr. Gol is, along with several others involved in the transactions.)
Mr.
Gol, who has said he believes Mr. Milella had clear title to the
diamond, then worked with Christie’s to sell it as part of a jewelry auction in 2013.
Emily
Reisbaum, a lawyer who is defending the gems dealer, said that the
Angiolillos have no evidence that Mr. Angiolillo owned the diamond “when
he died, that they inherited it, or that they owned it at any time
thereafter.”
The buyer, who paid $39.3 million, was Sheikh
Jassim Bin Abdulaziz Al-Thani of Qatar. His wife, Sheikha al Mayassa
bint Hamad bin Khalifa al-Thani, the chairwoman of the Qatar Museums, is
one of the most influential people in the art world, in part because
she has spent a fortune on building a top-flight collection for the country, basically from scratch.
The
plaintiffs have argued that Christie’s should not have gone forward
with the sale because the auction house understood that there had been
an Italian investigation into the accusation that the diamond had been
stolen. In an email cited in the court records, a Christie’s official says that she told representative of the sheikh — Guy Bennett,
an art adviser — about the ownership dispute. In court papers, Mr.
Bennett said Christie’s told him there was a legal issue with the
diamond, but said before the sale that it had been resolved.
The
plaintiffs say they did not know where the diamond was until shortly
before the Christie’s auction and that they approached Christie’s then,
saying the diamond was likely theirs. But Christie’s threatened to file
suit if the sale was blocked and the plaintiffs did not try to stop the auction.
According to court documents, the auction house spent at least $120,000
to investigate the provenance of the diamond and they say they found no
evidence Mr. Angiolillo’s children had inherited it. Indeed, the
defendants have argued in court that his descendants did not declare
that they had inherited the diamond on their taxes (though a judge
pointed out that no evidence has been presented to show that Ms.
Angiolillo or Mr. Milella paid taxes on it either). The auction house
has further argued that its client purchased the gem in Switzerland,
where property can be acquired legally if a good faith purchaser is not aware of any accusations of theft.
But a New York judge ruled
that Christie’s could not claim the benefit of Swiss law, saying that
the sale being challenged had been administered in New York by a New
York auction house and that the Princie Diamond had had “de minimis”
contacts with Switzerland.
Scott Balber,
a lawyer who is representing the Angiolillos, said Christie’s was more
concerned with using Swiss law to argue that its client could safely
sell the diamond rather than to establish who really owned it.
He
said he believes that Christie’s “objective was not to find out the
truth as to who owned the diamond, but to create a basis to argue that
it could take advantage of a legal defense under Swiss law.”
Christie’s described the matter as an “inheritance dispute among family members.”
“Prior
to the 2013 auction of the diamond,” the auction house said in a
statement, “the two main representatives of the family expressly
withdrew any objection to the sale, then two years after the successful
sale they sued to claim inheritance rights to the proceeds without
providing any significant new information to support a title claim.”
The
plaintiffs say that Christie’s earned a commission of more than $3.8
million on the 2013 sale. The auction house said it took in less than $1 million.
Diamond Worth $1.84 Million Stolen From Jewelry Exhibition At Yokohama
A diamond worth 200 million yen has
been reported stolen from an international jewelry exhibition near
Tokyo. Japanese police are investigating the matter
A diamond worth 200 million yen ($1.84 million) has been reported
stolen from an international jewelry exhibition near Tokyo. The Japanese
police are investigating the matter. The exhibition officials told
police that the 50-carat diamond was initially kept inside a glass
showcase, which was last seen at 5 pm on October 24. An hour later, the
diamond was missing.
Diamond went missing during the last hour
According to the police, the diamond was missing from its glass case
an hour after the exhibition was over. The jewelry case was found left
open. The police have registered a case of theft which they suspect
happened during the last phase of the exhibition organised in Yokohama,
near Tokyo. The police are still investigating the suspects, and no one
has been taken into custody yet.
Police are checking all the surveillance cameras
The Yokohama exhibition is a trade fair organised by the Yokohama
Museum of Art. The exhibition witnessed thousands of footfalls that led
to overcrowding, making it difficult for the police to hunt down the
culprit. Investigators are inspecting a CCTV footage which shows a
man reaching toward the case during the suspected time of theft.
The three-day exhibit which ended Friday saw the participation of
around 410 jewelry shops from around the world. According to the
organisers, the fair witnessed footfalls of around 10,000 visitors.
THE EYES HAVE IT
The Secret Battle Over Mona Lisa’s Prettier ‘Twin’
Leonardo
da Vinci’s famous Mona Lisa hangs in the Louvre. But a second, earlier
painting is at the heart of a multi-million-dollar battle to prove its
authenticity and ownership.
ROME—When
the long-awaited Leonardo da Vinci exhibition celebrating the Italian
master’s life opened in the Louvre in Paris this week, two paintings
were noticeably missing from the exhibit hall—and they are both of the
same woman.
Despite being one of Leonardo’s most famous works,
the Louvre decided not to relocate the “Mona Lisa” from her recently
renovated viewing room to the exhibit space created to mark the 500th
anniversary of the artist’s death. Visitors will instead have to traipse
across a hall through the selfie-taking crowds to see her where she
normally hangs.
The second painting that Leonardo aficionados
will miss is what many believe is an earlier version of the “Mona Lisa,”
which shows a much younger—and dare we say—prettier version of Lisa
Gherardini del Giocondo, the wife of Francesco del Giocondo, who
commissioned the work in the early 1500s.
The existence of an
earlier “Mona Lisa” has dogged art experts for centuries. Those behind
the Zurich-based Mona Lisa Foundation claim on their website
that Leonardo used the earlier “Mona Lisa” as a model for the “Mona
Lisa” he created under the patronage of Giuliano de Medici in 1513. If
it is indeed an authentic Leonardo, as many believe, it is worth
millions. And since the painting hanging in the Louvre is owned by the
French state, the idea of a privately owned “Mona Lisa” someday being
auctioned off is titillating to many collectors.
Theories about
why there would be two paintings are varied. First, Leonardo did paint
two versions of many of his masterpieces, including a portrait of Jesus
in Renaissance era clothing called “Salvator Mundi” that has gone
missing and that the Louvre has replaced with an earlier less polished
version recently attributed to Leonardo. Many believe that Leonardo
started the earlier “Mona Lisa” painting for Del Giocondo when Lisa was
in her early 20s and painted the one hanging in the Louvre with his own
version of age progression techniques he dreamed up to depict how she
would surely look a decade later. Forensic art specialists have tried
their own versions of modern age enhancement on the earlier version and
come up with an uncanny likeness of the painting that hangs in the
Louvre.
The
16th-century artist and art critic Giorgio Vasari, an expert in all
things Leonardo, describes the “Mona Lisa” as an unfinished painting in
the famous book The Lives of the Most Excellent Italian Painters, Sculptors and Architects.
The portrait in the Louvre is clearly not unfinished. But the details
of Lisa’s hair are unfinished in the so-called earlier “Mona Lisa”
painting, and she is sitting in front of two marble columns that do not
appear in the Louvre version. Those columns have been depicted in other
paintings, though, including a pen and ink sketch the artist Rafael
created after a 1508 visit to Leonardo’s studio, where the earlier
version might have been leaning on an easel.
The authenticity is
why the battle over who owns it is heating up. Londoners Andrew and
Karen Gilbert say they own 25 percent of the painting, and who exactly
owns the other 75 percent remains murky.
The Gilberts have
launched a legal battle in Florence to claim their share with the help
of the acclaimed group Art Recovery International. In August, Giovanni
Battista Protti, a lawyer working for Art Recovery International on the
Gilberts’ behalf, filed a writ of summons in Florence to force the Mona
Lisa Foundation, which says it doesn’t own the painting but seems to be
the only entity with control over it, to name the secret international
consortium that does own it as Mona Lisa, Inc. In a court case last
week, Protti was able to file another brief to lay the legal groundwork
to smoke out just who is behind Mona Lisa, Inc. so that the Gilberts
might make their claim.
The earlier “Mona Lisa” is thought to
have been kept in Rome after it was abandoned by the artist in the 16th
century. It was acquired by a British nobleman during the era of the
Grand Tour two centuries later and brought to England, where he kept it
at his Somerset estate. The painting showed up again in 1913 when Hugh
Baker, the curator of a museum in Bath, England, bought it on auction
and stored it in his Isleworth, London home, which is why it is
sometimes referred to as the “Isleworth ‘Mona Lisa.’” But as World War I
broke out, Baker feared for the safety of the painting and sent it to
the U.S. where it was housed in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts until
1918. When the war ended, Baker brought it back to the U.K..
When
Baker died in 1936, his sister Jane Urquhart apparently let it go to an
eccentric art dealer and historian named Henry Pulitzer, who wrote about
it in his 1966 book Where is the Mona Lisa? So concerned was
he for the safety of the painting, he locked it away in a Swiss bank
vault for 40 years. During that time, a porcelain maker named Leland
Gilbert bought a 25 percent share of the work from him, according to
Protti and backed up by a BBC documentary.
When
Gilbert died, that share was passed down to his heirs, who have the
certificate of purchase, according to Protti. When Pulitzer died, the 75
percent went to his partner Elizabeth Meyer, whose own heirs have no
idea what happened to the work of art. The Swiss-based Mona Lisa
Foundation instead says that when Meyer died, the entirety of the
painting went to the international consortium known as Mona Lisa, Inc.
and that the Gilberts’ “alleged” share is of no consequence.
Protti
told The Daily Beast that he does not know who the people behind the
foundation are, though their website shows a collection of mostly
Russian, French and British collectors. Nor does Protti know who is
behind Mona Lisa, Inc. But the group appears to be financially based in
Anguilla, tied to discoveries uncovered through the Panama Papers
investigations. That secret cache of 11 million documents leaked to the
press by Panamanian law firm Mossack Fonseca pulled back the curtain on
holding companies used to launder money, including many that trafficked
in art of questionable provenance as an investment guarantee. The
Florentine court now tasked with determining how the earlier “Mona Lisa”
fits into that will meet again in March after international subpoenas
for documentation are carried out.
Protti
told The Daily Beast that he believes the Gilberts will get their 25
percent, despite efforts by the Mona Lisa Foundation to stop them. The
foundation has pushed the theory of the authenticity of the painting
which has increased its worth, but it is unclear if it will profit or
what would motivate it from stopping others who might have a rightful
claim to the fortune tied to the painting. Numerous calls and emails by
The Daily Beast to those named on the Mona Lisa Foundation website over
the last week were ignored. But Markus Frey, one of the board members,
recently told the Art Newspaper that the Gilberts’ claim to ownership was “ill-founded and has no merit.”
After
this story was published, Marco Parducci, the lawyer representing the
Mona Lisa Foundation replied to earlier requests for comment. He argues
that the Gilbert family has failed to prove that they own a quarter of
the painting. “It is well known that the painting was publicly exhibited
in several countries over recent years,” he told The Daily Beast. “It
is amazing that, despite this, the Gilberts did not make any case or
claim. This suggests that they do not have much confidence in their own
claim and prefer to turn to the media in hopes of obtaining financial
gain, particularly given the recent confirmation of the painting’s
attribution to Leonardo.”
Parducci says he is confident the case
will be closed at the next hearing. “The fact that the Gilberts’ claim
to have identified the entity which owns the painting, which the
Foundation can neither confirm nor deny, does not change this in any
way,” he said.
The current location of the earlier “Mona Lisa” is
unclear. The Mona Lisa Foundation website says it was displayed in
Shanghai in 2016 and lists several successful authenticity tests carried
out on it since then. Protti says the last he heard the painting is
scheduled for display at a museum in Pavia, Italy, in November. The
Daily Beast could not confirm that it is slated to show anywhere in that
city.
Leonardo da Vinci feud: The 'earlier' Mona Lisa mystery
A painting of the
Mona Lisa hangs above a fireplace in a London flat in the 1960s. Is this
picture not only by Leonardo da Vinci, but also an earlier version of
the world famous portrait that hangs in the Louvre Museum in Paris?
Some
people are convinced it is, and more than 50 years later, a bitter
battle has erupted over both the ownership of the picture and the
evidence about who painted it.
The so-called "Earlier Mona Lisa"
is at the heart of a mystery that involves Caribbean tax havens, Swiss
bank vaults, a mysterious international consortium, and the Sherlock
Holmes of the art world.
So is it genuine? Who are the rightful owners? And could the
portrait at the centre of this Da Vinci Code-style mystery be worth
hundreds of millions of dollars?
A court case in Italy this week may finally help shed some light on the answers to these questions.
A second Mona Lisa?
In
2012, an organisation called the Mona Lisa Foundation unveiled to the
world, in a blaze of publicity, what it claimed to be a second painting
of the Mona Lisa by Leonardo da Vinci.
Since the Mona Lisa is
possibly the world's most famous painting, and its painter is regarded
as one of history's greatest artists, such a find would turn the art
world upside down.
The foundation set out an array of evidence
to try to back up the claim that the painting was a second, previously
unknown version of the portrait. But curiously the organisation claims
it doesn't own the painting.
It says the picture is owned by an
unnamed international consortium. When asked about this, the
foundation's general secretary, Joël Feldman, replies: "The foundation,
as a matter of policy and in compliance with its obligations, does not
comment on the ownership consortium."
But at their home in south London, Andrew and Karen
Gilbert have a different story - they say they own a 25% share in the
portrait.
When they contacted the Mona Lisa Foundation after it
unveiled the portrait in 2012 they claimed the organisation said it
"didn't know anything about us, they weren't the owners and just tried
to bat us away as someone inconvenient".
"Because we were unable
to find out who the owner was, nobody was telling us anything, we didn't
know how we could launch any kind of proceedings," Karen says.
This week has seen a dramatic development that the Gilberts believe may lead to a breakthrough in their claim.
But a claim in what? Is it possible for a near priceless Leonard da Vinci portrait to suddenly come to light?
The $450m painting
Incredibly, that's exactly what happened with a painting called the Salvator Mundi - or Saviour of the World.
Sold for just £45 ($55) in 1958, it was bought at auction for an incredible $450m (£357m) by an anonymous buyer two years ago.
The difference, of course, was down to the painting
being authenticated by an international team of experts as a genuine
Leonardo.
Could the painting dubbed the Earlier Mona Lisa by the foundation follow the same path?
'Had to be a Leonardo'
"I
was sceptical but intrigued," Professor Jean-Pierre Isbouts says from
Santa Monica, California - he was flown to Switzerland by the foundation
to view the painting.
"I walked into the vault, it was very cold
in there, and I spent about two hours with that painting. But after five
minutes I recognised that this had to be a Leonardo."
But it
wasn't just the appearance that made the academic from Fielding Graduate
University in California (whose work is recommended by the foundation)
believe the portrait was genuine - it was also the historical evidence,
he says.
"Giorgio Vasari, the [16th Century] biographer of
Leonardo, clearly states that Leonardo worked on the Mona Lisa for four
years and then left it unfinished."
This matches the appearance of
the Earlier Mona Lisa, which has an incomplete background, unlike the
famous portrait that hangs in the Louvre.
Professor Isbouts also
points out that historical records mention Leonardo painting the Mona
Lisa for two different clients, raising the possibility that he
completed two separate portraits, one for each commission.
He adds that scientific tests appear to back up the claim the painting is genuine.
"With
the Earlier Mona Lisa the science told us a) it is from the early 16th
Century, b) it is definitely a composition by Leonardo because the
configuration and the composition is identical to that of the Louvre
Mona Lisa. And c) the histograms [digital graphs of the colours used]
show that in terms of the 'handwriting' of the painting, how he applies
the paint, [it] is exactly identical."
But not everyone agrees.
"A bit of rubbish"
"It's
not the real article for a whole series of reasons," Martin Kemp,
emeritus professor of art history at the University of Oxford, says.
"It really isn't a serious runner to be by Leonardo himself."
He
thinks the reason Giorgio Vasari believed the Mona Lisa to be
incomplete was because "Vasari's information was all Florentine", and
the picture was probably completed after Leonardo had left the city of
Florence.
And he disagrees that historical records suggest two Mona Lisas were painted.
Instead
Professor Kemp says Leonardo probably never handed the portrait over to
his original client, and a second person "might well have said if you
finish that, I'll take it off you, as it were".
And the scientific
evidence? Professor Kemp says the information offered by the Mona Lisa
Foundation is only "permissive" and, while not ruling out the Earlier
Mona Lisa from being by Leonardo, it certainly doesn't prove that it is.
However, he adds "examination by infrared and other
technical means, shows that it [the Louvre Mona Lisa] underwent an
evolution, as all Leonardo's pictures did.
"The infrared
examination of the Isleworth Madonna [as Earlier Mona Lisa is also
known] is just tediously exact and is clearly the kind of drawing that's
made when you're copying something rather than generating it."
Professor
Isbouts, however, is critical of Professor Kemp's analysis in part
because "Martin has never seen the work, and that's the beef that David
and Joel [Feldman of the Mona Lisa Foundation] have, and I think it's a
legitimate beef."
In response Professor Kemp replies: "The old
canard that you always have to go and see it in the original, even if it
is a bit of rubbish, is not sustainable, particularly with modern
imaging techniques. And some of the high quality digital images, you can
actually see more in them than you can see in the painting, even with a
magnifying glass."
Shifting evidence
The experts may disagree about the evidence, but has all the material been presented clearly?
The
BBC has seen sections of a pre-production copy of a book - written by
several contributors but edited by Professor Isbouts - about the Earlier
Mona Lisa, called "Leonardo Da Vinci's Mona Lisa: New Perspectives".
One
of the contributors claims that in the final, published, version of the
book, sections of his text seem to have been removed. He claims many of
the deleted passages appear to be ones that are not helpful to the
theory that the Earlier Mona Lisa is by Leonardo.
Professor Isbouts denied this: "I definitely edited
some segments because I'm the editor. And in some cases there were
passages that I don't think were scholarly defensible. I was just trying
to keep the thrust of the argument intact - I certainly didn't remove
anything of a contrarian nature. There were two chapters that were
simply way too long."
He later emailed the BBC, having contacted
the contributor to see which passages he was concerned about, and said:
"We are working on the final version of the book, in hardcover, so we
can still make some corrections within the available word count."
A Mona Lisa, but no money
One
thing supporters of the theory that the Earlier Mona Lisa is by
Leonardo da Vinci have to explain is where the painting came from.
It suddenly emerged in 1913, when Hugh Blaker bought it from a manor house in Somerset.
"Blaker
believed he was on to something," says Professor Robert Meyrick of
Aberystwyth University who studies the life of the art dealer.
Despite successfully tracking down genuine paintings
by artists such as Rubens, Velázquez, El Greco, Manet, Constable, and
Turner, Blaker's business dealings often went badly, and he never
managed to sell his Mona Lisa.
"It was like a like a catalogue of
failures really, despite his best efforts," says Professor Meyrick, of
the man who struggled financially in later life.
Following
Blaker's death, the painting ended up in the hands of an eccentric art
dealer called Henry Pulitzer - he believed the Earlier Mona Lisa was
actually more impressive than its more famous counterpart in the Louvre.
But Pulitzer needed some help in trying to convince the world that they were both by Leonardo.
A helping hand
"He
started running out of money to promote it, because he wanted to prove
that it was a real Leonardo da Vinci," Andrew Gilbert says.
His family knew Pulitzer, bought pictures from him, and sold him some too.
They
have shown the BBC a series of documents which they say shows the
family bought a 25% share of the painting in 1964. About a decade later
Pulitzer locked the portrait in a Swiss bank vault, and following his
death, it eventually ended up in the hands of the international
consortium in 2008.
The Mona Lisa Foundation vehemently disagrees with
the Gilberts' claim, its president telling the press in July their case
is "ill-founded and has no merit".
But the family have pressed on and called in the "Sherlock Holmes" of the art world to help.
"Well, I guess I don't mind it," Christopher Marinello, CEO and founder of Art Recovery International, says about his nickname.
"We've recovered about $510m (£400m) worth of art
over the years. We're still heavily involved in some of the biggest
cases going on right now in the art world, and we're proud of that."
But what does he think of the claim that the painting in this case might be by Leonardo da Vinci?
"I
honestly don't care about any of it," he replies. "As far as I'm
concerned, this is a simple matter of clients who have a contract of
purchase for this painting, whatever it may be."
It's thanks to Mr
Marinello that the Gilberts (who say they themselves are not sure if
the portrait is a real Leonardo) began legal proceedings against the
Mona Lisa Foundation in Italy while the painting was being exhibited in
Florence.
The Caribbean connection
Ahead
of this week's court hearing, the Gilberts' lawyer, Giovanni Protti,
said this is the "most tricky and interesting case I've ever worked on".
"We've had to service a writ of summons to a lot of countries all over the world."
And
that work has borne fruit. After a court hearing on Tuesday, Karen
Gilbert says: "The Mona Lisa Foundation declared in front of the judge
that Mona Lisa Inc in Anguilla was the owner of the painting."
There is nothing to suggest such an arrangement
implies any wrong-doing by the foundation or the international
consortium, but the Caribbean island, which is a British Overseas
Territory, is known for its discreet way of doing business.
"We're chipping away at it," Karen says. "We know therefore that we're on the right track with the research that we've done."
This
doesn't establish that the Gilbert family do own a share in the
portrait, but it is the first time that the Mona Lisa Foundation have
disclosed who the owner is.
In response to Tuesday's hearing, the Mona Lisa
Foundation's lawyer, Marco Parducci, says: "The Mona Lisa Foundation can
neither confirm nor deny the claim, by virtue of the legal obligations
it has towards the owners, unless it is explicitly requested by the
judicial authority."
He adds that the Gilberts' claims suggest
they are motivated by "economic interest and the desire to damage the
foundation" and the next hearing in March will show "that there is no
case".
Fame
The legal
battle will roll on, but what would Leonardo, the great renaissance
scholar, make of puzzles like the Earlier Mona Lisa and the myths that
surround his work, 500 years after his death?
"Oh, he would be incredibly pleased," laughs Professor Kemp. "He was interested in fame.
"He
would have cringed at some of the nonsense, but the fact that his name
is the best-known name in the history of culture? Yes, he'd be very
pleased.