Restitution Roulette
THE JERUSALEM POST Jan. 5, 2008 It's been a decade since the art world was thrown into a tizzy about Nazi-looted art. It began when an exhibition of artworks by Egon Schiele was just about to close at the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in New York. Two families claimed that two artworks, on loan from the Leopold Foundation in Vienna, had once belonged to Austrian Nazi victims.
The Jerusalem Post Internet Edition <http://www.jpost.com/>
Metro Views: Restitution roulette
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, THE JERUSALEM POST Jan. 5, 2008
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It's been a decade since the art world was thrown into a tizzy about
Nazi-looted art. It began when an exhibition of artworks by Egon
Schiele was just about to close at the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in
New York.
Two families claimed that two artworks, on loan from the Leopold
Foundation in Vienna, had once belonged to Austrian Nazi victims.
MoMA told the families that it was obliged to return the paintings to
the Leopold Foundation. Manhattan District Attorney Robert M.
Morgenthau stepped in, turning two families' claims into an
international incident when he issued a subpoena on January 7, 1998, to
detain the paintings until ownership could be resolved.
It was a dramatic, if largely unpopular, move. The Wall Street Journal,
for instance, said the DA had taken "momentary leave of his senses."
But he got everyone's attention. International conferences were
organized, while some nations - notably Austria - began to review the
Nazi-era history of paintings in their museums.
In New York, the museums seemed less concerned about the origins of
artworks than whether Manhattan would lose its status as an
international cultural venue. Morgenthau's actions, they feared, would
cause museums abroad to stop lending art to New York exhibitions. There
is no evidence, however, that foreign lending has diminished to any
appreciable extent in the last 10 years.
If museums' fears did not materialize, neither did most Nazi victims' dreams about recovering family paintings.
EVENTS IN the last decade seem to show how far we have not come despite
the frenzied focus on Nazi-looted art. Take the Schiele case: Although
one of the two paintings claimed during the MoMA exhibition has been
returned to the Leopold Foundation, the second - called "Portrait of
Wally" - is at the center of a federal lawsuit in US District Court in
Manhattan, dragging on some 10 years after the art was due to leave the
city.
Although there have been some settlements and blockbuster returns, for
the most part, the recovery of Nazi-looted art proceeds at a snail's
pace, and the burdens generally remain on Nazi victims and their heirs.
In 1998, 44 nations made a moral commitment to resolve matters of
Nazi-looted art. However, no standard procedures or mechanisms have
been established to locate and return art that was looted or displaced
during the Nazi era. Claimants get aid and sympathy, in part, based on
an unfortunate "restitution roulette," in which the chances of
recovering artworks depend on the arbitrary location of the objects so
many decades after the war. A claimant, for instance, has far better
prospects if the object is in a British institution than one in Spain.
Germany, with great fanfare, five years ago created a blue-ribbon
"ethics commission" to make recommendations on art claims. Chaired by
Jutta Limbach, the former head of the Federal Constitutional Court, its
members included Richard von Weizsäcker, the former German president,
and Rita Süssmuth, the former head of the Bundestag. They lent their
prestige to a structurally flawed plan. The Limbach commission can hear
claims only if both sides agree; if a German museum declines to
participate, the claim dies for lack of a forum to resolve it. The
commission's first case exposed its doom. The panel was expected to
hear the claim of the Israeli heirs of a Breslau attorney and art
collector, Ismar Littmann, who were seeking an Emil Nolde painting at
the Wilhelm Lehmbruck Museum in Duisburg. No such luck. The Duisberg
museum refused to participate, stranding the claim in perpetual limbo.
Sweden, which in 2000 was host to the third international conference on
Holocaust-era issues, has a languishing claim for a painting, also by
Nolde, in the Moderna Museet. Although the museum must defer to the
government for decisions about de-accessioning, the government dumped
the claim in the Moderna's lap. The heirs located the Nolde in 2003;
one has to wonder how seriously the museum or Sweden takes the
restitution commitment if a claim requires so many years of review.
IF IT TAKES a legal maneuver to shake up the art world, the latest is
likely to be a ruling last month by US District Judge Mary Lisi in
Providence, Rhode Island. She ruled that a German baroness living in
the US should turn over a small painting by Franz Xaver Winterhalter,
called "Girl from the Sabiner Mountains," to the estate of Max Stern. A
German Jewish art dealer, Stern fled the Nazis, resettled in Montreal
and bequeathed his assets to Concordia and McGill universities in
Canada and the Hebrew University of Jerusalem.
Because the Nazis compelled Stern to liquidate the artworks in his
Dusseldorf gallery in 1937, the sale was involuntary, Lisi ruled.
Stern's surrender of the painting "for auction was ordered by the Nazi
authorities and therefore the equivalent of an official seizure or a
theft," she wrote.
Lisi's ruling effectively expands the definition of "looted art," which
often was understood as referring to objects specifically taken by an
agent of the Nazi regime.
Although the ruling concerned one painting, it should apply to more
than 200 additional Stern paintings sold under the same conditions,
said Willi Korte, an investigator in Silver Spring, Maryland, who
assisted the Stern estate. Further, it is expected to be cited in other
claims where Nazi victims lost artworks through extortion or duress, if
not outright confiscation.
Of the recent cases of Holocaust litigation, the federal court in
Providence may be the first to acknowledge the persecution the Jews
endured before World War II was declared. "Judge Lisi's decision
recognizes how the majority of German and Austrian Jews lost their
artworks during the early years of the Nazi regime," Korte said. "These
were not taken at gunpoint, but lost through forced sales."