Stolen Art is Expensive
Italian police have recently discovered twelve large stone reliefs depicting gladiators. The reliefs were hidden beneath the rubble in a builder's yard awaiting removal to Switzerland, where art dealers from China and Japan were eagerly expecting delivery.
The slabs, which are about 12"x9", show twelve gladiators arranged in six pairs, fighting with swords and shields. Because they came from a tomb dating to the end of the Roman Republic, they almost certainly represent the funeral games which were the origin of Rome's famous gladiatorial combats. The scenes are lively and realistic, even to the extent in one case showing the victorious gladiator stamping on the wrist of his defeated opponent to prevent him reaching for his weapon. The fallen gladiator, meanwhile, is extending one finger in the traditional appeal for mercy.
The discovery has caused something of a stir in Italian police circles. It followed an operation to infiltrate a gang of illegal excavators in the Fiano Romano area. Arrested criminals have revealed that the slabs were found sixteen years ago(!) and have been kept hidden because no one could be found to pay the five million euros that the gang demanded.
And how, you may wonder, did the gang arrive at that ambitious figure? The low-browed cretins who engage in illegal digging are usually of the type who would barter their discoveries - not to say their grandmothers - for a glass of wine and a packet of cigarettes. This gang, however, had sufficient intelligence to employ some leading art experts to come and value the reliefs. As the experts in question charged - and were paid - a fee for their services, we presume that the next step in the police investigations will be to interview these experts.
Meanwhile, the Italians are displaying in full measure that least attractive of all the vices, hypocrisy. While the Italian press is full of demands that this or that stolen - and sometimes only allegedly stolen - antiquity be returned and the trial of the unfortunate staff of the John Paul Getty Museum is proceeding as fast as such things do in Italy (which is to say, with all the speed of an arthritic glacier), there is a resounding silence in the press over a stolen antiquity that is in Italian possession.
Butrint, the ancient Buthrotum, has been mentioned in these pages before as the site of some remarkable remains dating to the Roman period. Among these are what used to be a famous Asclepion or sanctuary of healing, which was excavated back in 1928. Among the objects found in the place were a head of Asclepios himself, depicted with a full, curly beard and a mass of curly hair held in place by a ribbon.
Those of you with long memories may recall that back in 1991 the Albanians went mad over a pyramid scheme that duly collapsed, leaving virtually the entire country robbed of its savings. Elsewhere the culprits would have been arrested and their ill-gotten gains choked out of them, with investigations into Swiss bank accounts and so on. The Albanians do things somewhat differently.
The whole population rose up en masse, grabbed their guns and began robbing each other in an attempt to make good their losses. Government offices, aid warehouses, foreign tourists, shops, factories, businesses and private homes were all robbed and looted, leaving the country without power (cables all stolen), gas (pipes all stolen), fuel (that was all stolen along with the pumps, pipelines and most of the refineries) or any means of support (all stolen and/or vandalised). Needless to say, museums did not escape this outbreak of common sense Albanian style.
In the 16 years since then the Albanian government has been doggedly trying to track down its missing antiquities. Half a dozen pieces from Butrint were found in Greece and returned, a bust of the Empress Livia was found in America and returned, and best of all, the bust of Asclepios was found in Italy - but not returned.
The object in question was sold at auction by Christies, the London auctioneers, in 1996 for a sum equivalent to 17,000 euros. (Christies, by the way, has yet to provide a satisfactory explanation for how it came to be handling stolen goods.) The purchaser was an Italian gentleman from Rome who, somehow, was incautious enough to let the carabinieri catch sight of his trophy. The police informed the Albanian authorities who promptly instituted the normal procedure for reclaiming stolen antiquities and process was duly served on the Italian gentleman.
Now no one disputes that the bust in this man's house in Rome is the stolen bust from Butrint. The identification is indisputable. What is in dispute, however, is the 17,000 euros. The Italian gentleman possesses influence - exactly what is a coy secret, but probably he is the second-cousin twice removed of some politician (or possibly a politician himself) - and he has pulled strings and called in favours with the result that the Italians are refusing to hand over the bust until Albania pays 17,000 euros to its illegal owner. They have also advised the Albanians not to pursue any enquiries against Christies, which leads to a rather robust suspicion that the Italians know very well who it was that robbed the Butrint Museum and transported the stolen objects to Britain.
Quite apart from the fact that if anyone should be refunding money it should be Christies (who can then claim it from the person who commissioned them to auction the stolen bust), the Italians appear to be running the risk of setting a most dangerous precedent and one from which they stand to suffer more than anyone. What is to prevent the John Paul Getty Museum refusing to hand over any of its illegally acquired objects d'art until the Italians refund the purchase price? Questions of comparative wealth do not apply, for if the Americans are richer than the Italians, the Italians are even more rich than the Albanians.
If the Italians have any sense - which their present stance does not appear to indicate - they will hand over the bust forthwith and leave the Roman gentleman to ponder the valuable lesson that unprovenanced art can be very costly indeed.
© Kendall K. Down 2007
