Tombaroli
Reading the Old Testament as a child gave me my interest in ancient civilizations, as well as some of my favorite verbs (smite, slay, cleave). I could still drop everything to be an archaeologist, but for now I am content to read about antiquities. In the bargains table at National Bookstore I found The Medici Conspiracy: The Illicit Journey of Looted Antiquities, From Italy’s Tomb Raiders to the World’s Greatest Museums (Clearly, they want you to know what you’re getting) by Peter Watson and Cecilia Todeschini, hardcover, P175. The book traces how priceless artifacts stolen from graves, churches, and small town museums have made their way to the world’s major museums and to million-dollar auctions at Sotheby’s.
Watson, a British journalist, starts with a 6th century krater—a large, two-handled bowl—painted by Euphronius, who is to vases what Michelangelo is to ceilings and Bernini to statues. The krater was acquired by the Metropolitan Museum of New York in 1972 for a million dollars—the first time a million dollars had ever been paid for an antiquity. From the start the museum was very cagey about the provenance of the object—an assistant curator who opposed the purchase because he believed it was looted was fired, but reinstated. Turns out that it was looted, and the museum knew that it was probably looted, but they wanted it badly. The Medici of the title is a powerful antiquities dealer who at the time of publication was standing trial for conspiracy, smuggling, failing to report and receiving illicit material. (He is not related to the Florentine nobles of the Renaissance. ) The authors follow the Italian Carabinieri Art Squad on the trail of stolen treasure and detail the routine deceptions of curators, auctioneers, and collectors who drive the trade in stolen antiquities.
Apart from the huge benefits of scoring famous objects for their collections, the errant museum officers probably thought, Hey, most of the stuff in the world’s greatest museums was looted anyway. The Venetians brought home shiploads of treasure from Constantinople, and Napoleon’s legions carted back tons of artifacts from Egypt. But that was in the past; today museums are bound by rules. Or should be. Recently the British returned the Elgin Marbles to Greece. No, wait, they didn’t.
Answers to questions you might be asking, unless you wandered onto this site purely by accident >>>
August 5th, 2008 at 09:55
The British actually returned something? Why, that’s an event akin to a jeepney driver voluntarily giving back a 50-centavo change; they’ll only give you your change if you embarrass yourself by loudly asking for it. Three times. I wonder what the catch was.
The Brits should’ve also returned the Koh-i-noor to India while they’re at it. But no, it wouldn’t happen I guess. That would be like asking “third world politicians” to give up their loot.
I use Third World, para di halata which country. :-)
Hey, maybe that’s what made us third world: we plunder our own country. Rich countries plunder other countries. Clearly we have a lot to learn.
August 5th, 2008 at 21:47
It’s not only the British museums but the wealth of the aristoracy also accreted from the looting of its colonies directly or through the slave labors of their people. These colonies were then consigned to Third World status after independence. We’re part of the same historical pattern. We became Third World because the rich countries plundered us and we remain there because the local aristocracy and their agents (i.e., the politicians on their payrolls) continue the plunder.