Guest Post: In Defense of Art Theft
February 11th, 2008 by Menachem Wecker
Guest blogger Michael Dubitzky posts on a recent story of stolen paintings by Cezanne, Degas, Monet and van Gogh.
Today’s news that three men relieved the E.G. Buehrle Collection in Zurich, Switzerland of nearly $100 million worth of paintings by Monet, Van Gogh and Cezanne (among others) probably saddened many in the art world. However, apart from the museum ownership, staff and regular visitors, the rest of us should enjoy and perhaps celebrate this joyous occasion. The very act of art theft has become one of high performance art, on par with any other. The fact that it is illegal and sometimes quite dangerous should only heighten our admiration for these pilfering Baryshnikovs. And hey, breaking the law should pose no obstacle to an art world which has already proclaimed street graffiti to be works of intense counter-cultural genius.
The art thief is anything but crude. He never bursts into a museum with guns blazing, shooting up the place like some two-bit pirate. As is the case with any great artist, his performance requires meticulous planning, improvisational skill, subtlety, grace and yes, style. The famous 1990 Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum heist, still the most expensive unsolved art burglary on the planet, involved a scheme of simple cunning. The minimalist effort saw two men dressed as police officers quietly enter the museum after-hours, courteously tie up the security personnel and cut thirteen masterpieces from their frames. When the show was over, they rolled the artwork up and walked out. Witness the art thief executing his opus with a whisper, a refreshing departure from the bluster attendant to the embarrassing self-promotion of the 21st Century’s “great” artists (I mean you, Damien Hirst). He also forges ahead blessedly immune to the inevitable wailing of art critics.
For eighteen years the Gardner Museum has continued to display the empty frames left by the thieves. The frames, some exquisite in their own right, flaunt wistful labels bearing the name of the artist whose piece formerly resided in its four walls. Few living artists are capable of producing work that dredges up as much emotion in a spectator than those glaring, vacant frames at the Gardner Museum. Visit the museum and watch the average viewer pass the frame and instantly evince remorse, longing and hope, as complete an emotional panoply as any that a great painting can inspire.
Another of the great merits of the art thief is impeccable taste. While the thief pillages chambers containing Rembrandts, Vermeers and Cezannes, the rooms that house folk art and outsider art remain conspicuously untouched. In this fashion, the artist venerates the timeless masterpieces, effectively separating the wheat from the chaff. The Mona Lisa, for example, owes its fame primarily to its creator, but had it not been stolen in 1911, it may not now hold the title of “world’s most famous painting.” The larceny brought global attention to the small poplar board, and its recovery two years later marked the painting’s transformation from high-art to tourist trap.
So next time you hear mourning over an art heist, please stop and smile softly to yourself about the continued endurance of the last great art form.
Michael Dubitzky knows little about art or writing. He lives in Washington DC and works as a paralegal.