My thoughts:
"Me thinks the writer doth complain too much". What does he think? That we would inconvenience scholars? "Tis but the rantings of a fool, full of sound and fury, but signifying nothing".
Well, not exactly nothing! I was struck by the quote in the story: "Although night security is rigorous, during the day researchers are allowed free access to the library. Security staff do not search visitors and none reported anyone behaving suspiciously as they left." How suspiciously do professional thieves act, anyway? I'd like to see the training manual that defines suspicious behavior for the guard.
I hear this ALL THE TIME!!!! When will museums realize that security is only as strong as its weakest point. Scholars are almost always the weakest point.
I also liked the quote: "There is always a tension between security and use. We have a duty of curation, but at the same time books are for use. People do not normally walk around with a jemmy." So who says that "use" and "security" are mutually exclusive? I'm certain that no one was allowed to realy "use" those books, at least not while in the exhibit cases. So was money appropriated to alarm them? Was there an adequate burglar alarm system in the building? Were there adequate guards? Were the guards well trained? Were there procedures for checking on the books? And why would any of these things interfere with "use" anyway? Why were visitors not searched during the day?
This all gets down to the one thing I see all too often:
Scholars don't want to be inconvenienced. Period.
Steve Keller, CPPSecurity Consultant
From: w_robinson@globe.com
Subject: Boston Museum of Fine Arts
c Copyright 1998 Globe Newspaper Company.
Getting to the bottom of split statue
By Anne E. Kornblut, Globe Staff, 12/27/98ANTALYA, Turkey - The marble stump stands apart at the entrance of this archeological museum, labeled by the sort of historical plaque people here have come to expect. On a kiosk, visitors have scribbled angry graffiti: ''Boston - Give it back now!'' and ''Stop crime in archeology!'' Tacked up nearby at the Antalya Museum are more signs explaining the plight of this lonesome half-statue, whose upper half is nestled in Boston inside the Museum of Fine Arts, and whose story is one of many in the international catalog of illegally smuggled works. According to Turkish officials and other archeological experts, the two pieces of the ''Weary Herakles'' were not separated in some ancient war or earthquake. Instead, they say, the top half was plundered by a group of thieves near an excavation site in southern Turkey in 1980, smuggled across the border, and, ultimately, sold to the husband-wife team of American collectors Leon Levy and Shelby White, who then donated a half-share to the MFA. In 1990, it went on display at the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art in an exhibit called ''Glories of the Past,'' featuring treasures belonging to Levy and White. That was when it drew notoriety. That December, Connoisseur magazine published an article that revealed the startling match of the bottom half several thousand miles away.
Then yet another split occurred.
Because even as experts began comparing remarkable photographs of the two halves - and as Turkish officials were asking a New York law firm to begin inquiries into the matter - the collectors and the MFA were offering a stream of arguments defending their right to own the marble bust. Today, it is still in their possession, despite years of legal wrangling, although the man who was curator of the MFA classical art department at the time it was acquired admits the pieces are part of a whole. ''It's now clearly recognized that the `Weary Herakles' fits together to form a complete statue,'' Cornelius C. Vermeule III, who ran the department for four decades, said in an interview earlier this month. ''Things wander, turn up in different collections all over the world. It's the same with the things from the Parthenon.'' That was a far cry from the position the curator took in 1990, when the link between the two halves was first suspected. Confronted with evidence about the bust's origin, Vermeule said in an interview with The New York Times that year that it was unlikely the two would match. ''There are so many `Weary Herakles','' he said at the time. According to archeology experts, that much is true; around 150 A.D., when the disputed statue was most likely made, many artisans devoted their skills to replicating the Herakles design originated in the 4th century B.C., by the famous sculptor Lyssipos of Sicyon. Such duplicates, which would have been bath or theater decorations in their day, often turn up in excavation sites in southern Turkey, and they are not, at least by comparison, extraordinarily rare. But they do belong to Turkey, according to Turkish officials, who say Turkish laws and the US agreement to comply with the UNESCO treaty require the top half be returned. To that end, Turkish officials spent several years wrangling with the American owners over whether the pieces were truly of the same statue. Vermeule insisted down to every detail that they were different, even claiming he could spot a separate belly button on each. Finally, in 1992, Cultural Minister Enzin Ozgen decided to settle the matter by sending a plaster cast of the Turkish half of the statue to the MFA. Under the close watch of scholars - and attorneys - the plaster cast was fitted. Thomas Hoving, former director of the Metropolitan, said it ''fit like a hand to glove.'' ''This is like having a bunch of fingerprints plastered all over the place,'' Hoving said in an interview earlier this month. ''It is so clear. There's no mistaking it.'' Despite that concrete evidence, however, the MFA and White and Levy resisted cooperating, Ozgen said. Now, their argument is that although the pieces do match, the top half was acquired some other way besides illegal smuggling. Malcolm Rogers, the MFA's director, issued a statement that ''the MFA believes that the `Weary Herakles' was legally and properly acquired.'' Rogers has refused repeated Globe requests for interviews. Vermeule also now says the top half, on display at the MFA, could have been excavated ''any time since the Italian Renaissance.'' Turkish law protects only artifacts smuggled out after 1906. Laws aside, Ozgen says he has been rebuffed not only by the MFA but also by Levy and White, despite several offers to reunite the statue and share the whole. In one exchange, an elderly Turkish archeologist, Jale Inan, was so distraught over the statue that she planned a hunger strike on the steps of the MFA, Ozgen said. When White heard about the plan, she called Ozgen at home, furious, he said. ''She said, `If you ever dare to conduct a hunger strike in front of the museum, I will have all the Armenians demonstrate against Turkey in front of the consulate,''' Ozgen said. The hunger strike was canceled. In the years since, Turkey has kept up negotiations with the MFA, Levy, and White, despite Turkey's increasing tendency to file lawsuits against suspected owners of illegal plunder. Even now, according to the attorney for Turkey, Lawrence M. Kaye, ''Hopefully, the matter will be resolved out of court.'' ''But if not,'' he said, ''the Republic will institute appropriate proceedings to recover it.''This story ran on page A30 of the Boston Globe on 12/27/98.
Paper links Boston museum to looted antiquities
12:41 p.m. Dec 27, 1998 EasternBOSTON, Dec 27 (Reuters) - The Boston Museum of Fine Arts, already embroiled in several controversies, apparently acquired scores of Greek and Roman antiquities looted from Italian archaeological sites, the Boston Globe reported on Sunday.
The newspaper said the museum seemed to have acquired the objects in the 14 years since it says it abandoned dealings in the illicit art market. The Globe said the questionable objects included three valuable Greek vases apparently excavated illegally from 2,300-year-old grave sites in the Apulian region of southern Italy and smuggled out of the country. In what the Globe called ``a telltale admission,'' the Museum of Fine Arts described the three vases as among a ``host'' of newly discovered artifacts in a book it published in 1993. The newspaper has been investigating the museum's collections with the help of classical scholars and art experts. It said it found that only 10 of the 71 items in the Greek and Roman collection had any recorded ownership or provenance. The remaining artifacts, including the three vases mentioned in the book, have no pedigree at all -- strong circumstantial evidence that most were recently unearthed by grave-robbers, the Globe said. The accusations added to the museum's woes. Its ``Monet in the 20th Century'' exhibit, which closes this weekend before moving next month to the Royal Academy of Arts in London, was accused of failing to note clearly that one of the artist's works had been looted by the Nazis. And that was not the only Monet to cause problems for the institution. Claude Monet's ``Fields of Poppies at Giverny,'' which hangs in another gallery, has become the subject of a struggle. The painting was loaned to the museum in 1911 by the Right Rev. William Wolcott of Lawrence, Massachusetts, but the city of Lawrence now wants it back, so it can be sold to raise much-needed funds. Museum of Fine Arts Director Malcolm Rogers said in an earlier interview that if that was what Wolcott had had in mind, he could have sold the painting himself and donated the proceeds to Lawrence. A year ago, the Museum of Fine Arts turned aside a public demand from the government of Guatemala that it return scores of pre-Columbian artifacts looted from ancient Mayan grave sites in that country. The museum argued that the artifacts had entered the United States legally between 1974 and 1981. It was only in 1983 that the museum committed itself to international standards designed to curb the widespread plundering of antiquities. The museum declined to comment immediately on the Globe's investigation and suggested that reporters call its press office on Monday.
Copyright 1998 Reuters Limited.
From: Jonathan Sazonoff saz@kwom.com
Subject:
Chicago Gallery Theft
CHICAGO... Thieves hit Wicker Park's "Hollis Funk Gallery" Saturday night. They defeated an alarm, removed a door, and made off with 150 selected pieces of poster art, including a signed Picasso. The loot was estimated to be worth $200,000 - $250,000. Chicago police are investigating.
