Previous Posts: October 2015

a painting by Jean-Honoré Fragonard, a respected Rococo master, reproductions of his work, and additional artworks by François Gérard and François-André Vincent have all been defaced using felt tip and ballpoint pen.

Circular scribbles, long lines of felt pen, and ill-executed moustaches can clearly be seen on the canvases. Moreover, one painting now has a large hole right at its center.

The perpetrator struck on more than one occasion, starting on September 25. On October 19, further damage was noticed. Despite the repeated incidents, nothing was mentioned publicly, until the Mayor of Grasse confirmed the puzzling acts on October 25 via a public statement.

As an art handler from a reputable organisation I can tell you that we do indeed use the gloves pictured by the woman in the press photo and they aren't just for vets as your blogger comments. Perhaps if they looked into new research they would find out that these gloves are the way forward as they provide better grip and don't leave marks on the objects like so many others. This was actually tried and tested by a group of dedicated art handlers who knew what they were talking about.

Furthermore I am a female art handler and the only one in my division which quite frankly makes me glad to see a women shown holding a work rather than a bloke as they would so prefer. Yes, believe it or not women move art too these days. Blokes and bloggers alike need to get over it.

As for the shot angles and the position well that is artistic license by the press and anyone with any sense realises that intent when looking at any photo distribution by a gallery or museum so commenting on it is just pointless.

The main thrust of the evidence concerns the date and likely place of origin of the sculptures; in their own words: “The study analyzes the plausibility of the object’s time of origin using technical and scientific methods.” What they’ve discovered is that the present layer of polychromy and bonding substances are original. Not only that, the technique and materials point to Italy as the place of manufacture and “the time of origin as circa 1494”. This approximate, but surprisingly precise (which is say, suspiciously engineered), date was then “confirmed” by scientific dating of the wood using Accelerator Mass Spectrometry, which “showed that the assumed age (1494) was in the calibrated time frame (dendrocorrected), with a 100% probability.” Having thus “established” that the putti were made in Italy in 1494, they embarked upon stylistic analysis, comparing the sculptures to authentic works by Michelangelo. This is all to say that somebody involved had from the get-go a hunch, however wishful, that these might be by Michelangelo and so having decided on the date and place of production by means of science, let’s actually think about this in terms of art and try and prove this basic proposition.

“You can’t just have a gimmick, ‘paintings with animals,’ and expect to get their star works,” said Ronni Baer, senior curator of European paintings at the museum. Punctilious lenders, she added, “need to know you’re doing something serious to advance scholarship and not just another masterpiece show.” [...]

Unlike shows that focus on a single artist, or a genre like still lifes, the exhibition here showcases many hands, styles and subjects. As museumgoers travel from regal apartments to back-alley hovels, examining faces, places and objects rendered in keen detail, they experience the 17th-century equivalent of a social documentary.

“It is an excellent concept, yet one that has not been tried before,” said Norbert Middelkoop, paintings curator at the Amsterdam Museum, which provided two works ordinarily used to teach history and hierarchy to schoolchildren. “I think this will really strike a chord with American society.”

Ms. Baer, who has a doctorate in art history from the Institute of Fine Arts at New York University, persuaded the hard-to-crack Rijksmuseum, the premier art institution in the Netherlands, to contribute works by greats like Pieter de Hooch and Jan Steen and by others that had never been shown in America. She has brought two of Vermeer’s 36 known works here — a great “get” for a city that has been bereft of its lone Vermeer, “The Concert,” since it was stolen in 1990 from the nearby Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. [...]

To obtain an illuminating — and laudatory — canvas from the Amsterdam Museum, by an unknown artist, showing the rich distributing bread, peat and other alms to what they called the “deserving poor,” Ms. Baer arranged for her museum to share the cost of restoring a painting that depicts a town hall.

This still life by Hendrik van der Borcht did just quite well at Bonhams. Up till now only three other works were known by this master. He and his son advised the Lord of Arundel in numismatic matters.

An avant-garde art exhibition at a museum in Italy ended up being thrown in the bin after overzealous cleaners decided that it must be rubbish.

The installation, entitled “Where shall we go dancing tonight?”, was supposed to represent the hedonism and political corruption of the 1980s.

Created by Sara Goldschmied and Eleonora Chiari, artists from Milan, it consisted of cigarette butts, empty bottles, paper streamers, confetti and discarded shoes and clothing.

When cleaning staff turned up for work at the Museion museum in Bolzano in Italy’s German-speaking Sud Tyrol province, they assumed that the mess was left over from a party the night before.

They promptly started clearing up, throwing the objects into bin bags. They conscientiously divided the items into different recycling sacks for glass, plastic and paper.

I want an invitation to the party they hold to reconstruct the assemblage.   Lots of Champagne bottles there.

A new installation in the Frick’s East Gallery is intended to evoke a British country house in its juxtaposition of painting, sculpture, and furniture. Among the highlights of the installation are three portraits of English sitters by Anthony van Dyck that have been in storage for several years*: Sir John Suckling; Lady Anne Carey, Later Viscountess Claneboye and Countess of Clanbrassil; andLord and Lady Strange, Later Earl and Countess of Derby, with Their Daughter. The return of these paintings to the galleries offers visitors a preview of next year’s special exhibition Van Dyck: The Anatomy of Portraiture (March 2 through June 5, 2016), which will place six of the Frick’s eight portraits by the artist in the context of more than ninety paintings, prints, and drawings from public and private collections around the world. The presentation has provided the occasion for renewed research into the Frick’s holdings by the artist, whose works were particularly sought after by Gilded Age collectors, including Henry Clay Frick.

‘The Art Fund, the national fundraising charity for art, had intended to announce on Monday 26 October a campaign to save Rembrandt van Rijn’s Portrait of Catrina Hooghsaet (1607 – 1685), 1657, from export.

Previously at Penrhyn Castle, it had been provisionally sold by the trustees of the Penrhyn settled estates in North Wales to an overseas buyer for £35million.  However, the Secretary of State announced on 16 October that an export licence would be withheld (initially until 15 February 2016) to enable a UK buyer to try to raise the necessary funds to keep the work in this country.

At 3.30pm today the Art Fund received a call from Sotheby’s to say that they would be withdrawing their application for an export licence on behalf of their overseas buyer, and that the work would instead remain in this country for the time being.

The Art Fund believes that the future of the painting remains perilously unsafe. It has been in Wales for 150 years and in Britain for nearly 300 years, and is of supreme national importance. By mounting a public appeal at this critical point the Art Fund had aimed to ensure that this masterpiece could be acquired by a UK public collection, and at a favourable price:  net of tax the price had been agreed at c.£22.5 million.  Indeed significant funds from charitable sources had already been raised since the 16 October announcement.

The Art Fund is deeply concerned by this turn of events, and will leave no stone unturned in our efforts to ensure that the public interest is better served, in this and in other matters concerning the protection of our national cultural heritage.’

One possibility, not to be dismissed lightly, is that the Art Fund is run by idiots. They seem more interested in marketing than in art, demanding that museums include prominent lurid acknowledgement of their support and following fashion in headlong pursuit of trendy contemporary art. Describing the Rembrandt as 'perilously unsafe' is absurd hyperbole that reveals their real focus: keeping stuff in the UK rather than developing our public art collections. 

The other possibility is that they have just given up on the idea of developing collections and buying great works of art in favour of simply keeping in  the UK whatever is already in the UK. The trope of 'saving our art' plays to the bias of loss-aversion, which as specialists in advertising rather than art they will understand well. But it's a sign of the stultifying monoculture of arts discussion here that it goes unchallenged. No one questions the absurdly distorted funding model, or makes the case for going out to buy art that is great rather than art that is here.

It is good news that the Rembrandt stays in the UK for now but it must be frustrating for the museum which was looking to acquire and calls for further reform to the UK export licensing system are perhaps understandable.  Each applicant for an export licence must indicate their willingness to sell the work in question to a UK museum if a matching bid can be raised.  If the applicant confirms that they will sell then relevant museums - typically with Art Fund assistance - embark on (often heroic) fund raising efforts, increasingly difficult in recent times. As the export process imposes no legal obligation on the applicant, an overseas owner can theoretically withdraw their application for an export licence right up to the last moment thus leaving the museum with an unfortunate ‘cost’ both in terms of time spent and goodwill potentially foregone with donors etc.  I suspect this partly explains the Art Fund’s concern with the Rembrandt.  It does not seem unreasonable that museums should be allowed to work through these cases with the benefit of certainty given the size of the sums involved.

Other similar cases in recent years include William Hoare’s Portrait of Ayuba Suleiman Diallo and Reynolds' Portrait of Omai.  Hoare’s portrait is on display at the National Gallery (now owned by the Qatar) but I am unsure as to the whereabouts of the Omai portrait (owned by John Magnier), having been ferried backwards and forward between Dublin and London over the past 10 years.

It is good news that the Rembrandt stays in the UK for now but it must be frustrating for the museum which was looking to acquire and calls for further reform to the UK export licensing system are perhaps understandable.  Each applicant for an export licence must indicate their willingness to sell the work in question to a UK museum if a matching bid can be raised.  If the applicant confirms that they will sell then relevant museums - typically with Art Fund assistance - embark on (often heroic) fund raising efforts, increasingly difficult in recent times. As the export process imposes no legal obligation on the applicant, an overseas owner can theoretically withdraw their application for an export licence right up to the last moment thus leaving the museum with an unfortunate ‘cost’ both in terms of time spent and goodwill potentially foregone with donors etc.  I suspect this partly explains the Art Fund’s concern with the Rembrandt.  It does not seem unreasonable that museums should be allowed to work through these cases with the benefit of certainty given the size of the sums involved.

Other similar cases in recent years include William Hoare’s Portrait of Ayuba Suleiman Diallo and Reynolds' Portrait of Omai. Hoare’s portrait is on display at the National Gallery (now owned by the Qatar) but I am unsure as to the whereabouts of the Omai portrait (owned by John Magnier) [...]

I can certainly understand the Art Fund's concern. They know what a tiny fraction of objects judged to meet the Waverly Criteria are actually saved, given the non-existent public funding for acquisitions and failure of the government's attempt to induce Britain's elite to embrace art philanthropy. If owners of the few items where a campaign proves possible just sit back and wait for a moment of greater weakness, history suggests they will not be disappointed. Our system gives more respect to buyers rights than many, and those rights would not be unduly eroded if the law was changed so that those seeking an export permit had to give a binding undertaking to accept a matching offer.

With regard to the tax issue though, I wonder if the Art Fund’s concern at the speedy withdrawal of the Export License application is because the tax deduction, bringing the price down to 22.5million GBP, is only applicable if the painting is sold by the original owner?  If the Rembrandt is sold to a new owner for 35millionGBP, the Treasury will get the tax and should the new owner apply for an Export License in ten year’s time the price will not only be ( much ) higher but there will be no tax relief because the painting will not have been “conditionally exempted” for decades. At the best, there might be a small doucer for a Private Treaty sale—which rarely seem to happen at all these days.

[...] It now appears that Danaë’s golden sojourn at the Met was an extended presale exhibition. [...]

Veteran dealer Richard Feigen‘s family trust was outed yesterday by the Wall Street Journal‘s Jennifer Smith as the owner cryptically identified on the Met’s “Danaë” label as “private collection.” The trust stands to reap rich rewards from gilt-by-association: Sotheby’s has announced that “Danaë” will be the star lot of its evening sale on Jan. 28, bearing a presale estimate of $25-35 million. [...]

Does a dealer/collector have a right to show works in a nonprofit museum’s galleries before dispatching them to auction? Of course.

Should museums allow themselves to be commercially exploited in his manner? Of course not.

Loan agreements should contain a clause imposing a several-year moratorium on selling a work after its museum exhibition. Otherwise, museums may appear to be complicit in market maneuvers and curators may see their scholarly prose instantly recycled as sales pitches.

It is an interesting discussion wheather museums are providing a seal of approval to works of art that come to the market. As you know, a similar discussion takes place when a painting, sculpture or drawing is being published in a first rate journal or exhibition catalogue.

 At the request of the editor of The Burlington I have signed twice a statement that a work that was illustrated in one of my contributions was not due to appear on the market for at least five years. But when you think of it is a silly thing to do because, not being the owner it is not in ones hands wheather a work is going to be on offer for sale or not in the nearby future.

And if having “displayed at the Met” does add value, the Met and the public have enjoyed the free display of a valuable work. The Met didn't rent the painting, as with some exhibitions, or have to invest in acquiring it so there was a quid pro quo if the display of the painting added any value.    Lending to an exhibition might add some value and curators still seek and occasionally pay for exhibitions loans of important works.

It is all right if a private party benefits from public display so long as the public gets an adequate benefit as well. Lending doesn't come with [tax] eductions that donations create.

Yes, to an established old master, I agree the pull-up is minimal, but public benefit museums should be just that - pro bono. Time on the Met's walls undoubtedly has a commercial value - and sticking pictures on their wall prior to an auction or indeed any commercial sale is not what they're supposed to be for. It just wouldn't wash in other commercial areas - it would be seen as a conflict of interests.

 And that grey area is being exploited - wthout anybdy questioning it - so supine is arts journalism. Dealers are using museums to lend credence and substance to private offerings in the most blatant way. The quid pro quo is obviously that the museum gets interesting exhibitions but the prime purpose of a museum should be objective presentation of material - not to tease the public into buying stuff.

Why is she on her knees?

Do you think "white glove shots" are more to allow us to appreciate the dimensions

of a particular painting or piece of art?  And The use of the pretty lady "holding" the painting reminds me of how female scantily clad models were once used to sell cars!

Lord Chesterfield springs to mind, the expense enormous and the posture ridiculous.

[...] the running stream of ludicrous pictures of women pretending to hold up paintings, has me in stitches. Others love it too.  

 As a woman, I appreciate someone pointing out the way women are still used as bits of décor. I pass no comment on what it says about rubber/white gloves.

Could there be a campaign to wean these galleries and dealers off by suggesting an alternative, like switching to electronic cigarettes as a first step to avoid severe nicotine withdrawal symptoms?  I offer……. why not obligatory Xmas lights draped over in a suitably luscious fashion? And as the addiction wanes, another step down to Xmas baubles …

I am an art handler who has worked in several museums and auction houses.

1. All types of gloves are used and would therefore be "realistic," for a staff member to wear in a photo. As an art handler you are not just wandering a well lit gallery polishing the glass on pictures, you are moving and unpacking wooden crates, handling extremely heavy and challenging objects, unpacking boxes, fabricating plinths, and moving gallery furniture. We use builders grip "vet" gloves (as in the Picasso pic,) white gloves and nitrile gloves. Sometimes these are our choices, dependent on what we are working with, other times the glove is stipulated by the department we are working for. White gloves for old master, nitrile for contemporary art, etc. I think it is felt by the auction houses that old master clientele want to see their prospective purchases handled with old school white gloves. It's as much about conveying a message as it is protecting the work.

Staff in museums really wear white gloves. Again there is no blanket policy, it likely comes down to the best intentions of whoever the head of conservation is. In the museums I have worked in I again have worn nitrile and white cotton gloves, and for a variety of (sometimes confusing) reasons. Just to correct an earlier comment you made white cotton gloves these days have rubber dot grips on them and are not slippy.

2. These photo opportunities are always "directed" by the photographer, or sometimes several photographers at once. They are only interested in feeding into the cliched public perception of what goes on in museums and auction houses.

3. I have been photographed in all stages with a work - on the wall, off the wall, hanging the work, tilting it, holding it above my head and most enjoyably running sideways with a £10m painting to achieve the blurry "rushing staff member strides past stationary gallery visitors," cliche.

4. Blokes outnumber women in this business but if there is a female around they will want to use her in the photo. Sometimes if there are no females around they will use a female staff member from another department dressed up as an art handler.