French masterpieces for sale in postwar Germany

by Marc Masurovsky

From a business standpoint, art dealers do not run charities. They buy, sell, trade works and objects of art to make money, and, hopefully, lots of it. The dealer’s instinct is—you guessed it—to look for opportunities, expand networks of informants and clients, make deals, and jump on them before the competition does. As a result, the oftentimes legendary rivalries that arise between art dealers shape and transform the art world as well as the business of art. Every now and then, their acquisitions and sales influence the taste of current and future generations. A thrilling wave to ride but one that comes with a heavy price.

For those dealers who are willing to go all the way, they may assign ethics and History to a backseat in order to unleash their thirst for acquiring unique, expensive and (maybe) transformative objects wherever they can be found hopefully at a low enough price. During the Nazi era (1933-1945), dealers made a pact with the Devil by ignoring the heinous nature of hate-based political systems rising across the European continent and elsewhere. They saw how the discriminatory policies unfurled by the New Nazi/Fascist Order could generate immense opportunities for them as a result of the involuntary disgorgement of valuable works of art on the art market by the victims of Nazi/Fascist violence and persecution.

The dealers, collectors, agents, cultural officials and brokers who invested themselves in acquiring and selling Nazi victims’ cultural property did so willingly, eyes open and focused on the prize. And it so happens that even dealers who fell victim to the rapacity of Nazis’ covetous seizure of their inventories between 1933 and 1945 also saw opportunities for themselves and their colleagues as the genocidal dust of the Nazi-driven Holocaust was barely settling across war-torn Europe. Even if their desire to acquire such works might have been guided by the best of intentions…as art dealers.

To wit, Paul Rosenberg, an iconic figure of the international art world in Europe and the United States, had a keen visionary eye for high-quality art. He exercised his skills with brilliance on both sides of the Atlantic. On December 12, 1946, Rosenberg penned a two-page proposal to the Foreign Division of the US Treasury Department in Washington, DC, regarding the disposition of works of art located in the US zone of occupation of Germany (viz., Bavaria) which belonged to impoverished collectors. Here are the relevant portions:

“There are, in Germany, many great art collections…which include internationally famous French paintings…there might be a possibility that the owners of these paintings, due to lack of funds, might be interested in selling their collections. [Some] are celebrated masterpieces…We, as art dealers, are interested in these pictures…If this is possible, many of these great masterpieces would be acquired..by American collectors and…be donated to American museums or artistic institutions, thereby adding to their greatness.”

The “we” refers to a group of art dealers and their galleries based in New York who shared Rosenberg’s feelings and agreed to contact the US government and encourage the US military occupation authorities in Germany to enact policies that would loosen up export restrictions from the former war zone and allow art dealers and collectors to resume business as usual. The desire to “liberate” heaps of cultural objects from the shackles of Allied military policy and (re)fuel the engine of the international art market appears to be the main motivator behind this proposal. It is unclear whether this proposal was accepted, but it would not have sat well with American cultural officials who were working around the clock in Washington and in liberated Europe to ensure that art collections and individual objects located in liberated areas would be prioritized for restitution and not be offered for sale.

 In June 1946, the celebrated Roberts Commission committed harakiri and put itself out of business, confident that, to a large extent (although the proof for this has always been elusive) its leaders opined that very little looted art had entered the United States.  Before doing so, almost to legitimize its own demise, the Roberts Commission had successfully revoked Treasury Directive TD 51072, a key instrument in the fight against illegal imports of looted property into the United States. The directive was issued on June 8, 1944, two days after D-Day, under sections 3(a) and 5(b) of the Trade with the Enemy Act. Its aim was to restrict the importation into the US of any art object with a value exceeding 5000 dollars or is of artistic, historic and scholarly interest irrespective of monetary value.” The method of restriction was sequestration of objects falling under the aegis of the Directive. The Roberts Commission's job was to review the documentation accompanying these sequestered objects and either approve or refuse their release under a license issued by Treasury.

It should come as no surprise that Paul Rosenberg's proposal came at a time when some parts of the US government were no longer focused on restituting victims' property but on returning to business as usual as quickly as possible even if it meant releasing art objects from Europe into the United States with no filters and no way of vetting imports for evidence of loot.

Source:

Paul Rosenberg to Foreign Department, US Treasury Department, Washington, DC, 12 December 1946, 2 pages, Enclosure III, Box 28, Lot 62D4 (Ardelia Hall files), RG59, NACP, College Park, MD.

Stories of objects

by Marc Masurovsky

Artists produce their works in whatever media they select as their mode of expression-paper, panel, stone, metal, silk, canvas, cardboard, synthetic materials, reused “found” surfaces. Depending on their own inclinations, they will either set aside their works for posterity, sell them or exchange them for other works.

Buyers, depending on the value and perceived importance of these works, have disposable income on hand, allowing them to constitute minor or major collections, driven by themes or simply an eye for what appeals to them at the moment of purchase. It’s all very personal. And, depending on their relationship to the creators, they acquire their works to support them or as investments, or because of their interest in what the works represent.

Most artists will remain “unknown”. The established “art historical” community will not recognize the intrinsic or extrinsic value and importance of their works for highly subjective reasons dictated by their tastes, inclinations, and relationships with what we know as “the art market” and “cultural institutions.” In other words, these “unknown” artists have not been given the privilege of having their works studied or reviewed by so-called experts and critics who, thanks to their training and specialization, pass judgment on these artists’ works and either promote their potential success or bury them into the dustbins of history where all is left to be forgotten for posterity. More often than not, experts and critics align themselves with galleries, museums, and collectors. Their objectivity should be called into question. And yet, many “unknown” artists are known in their communities, in the regions where their communities are located, through extended networks which might stretch across borders. But they will never attain a spot in the “pantheon.” That is not necessarily the worst fate in the world. But such exclusion produces enormous amounts of frustration, insecurity, and marginalization among creative producers.

Operating in a higher tier of the art market, a coterie of gallery owners, art brokers, well-heeled collectors buy low to sell high, occasionally hover over the “unknowns” and rely in part on their “experts” to guide choices and focus on potential success stories that can produce a return on their investment. Their interest is to “make” a successful artist, reflecting “their” vision of what “success” means. This is where the artist’s world intersects with what we idolize and love to hate as the “art market”—a chaotic mixture of businesses, large and small, and entrepreneurs whose primary motive is to make money from art sales. Profit guides one’s inclinations and tastes, more often than not.

Gallery owners and brokers alike rely on a wealthier clientele, one that hails from the national and international financial, commercial and professional worlds (read lawyers, accountants, consultants, entrepreneurs, etc..). The market becomes more complex at this level and intersects with industry, finance, commerce, and politics through the buying and selling of art, which becomes a status-based undertaking. Companies, banks, professional groups, law firms, accounting firms, consulting businesses, acquire art for “show”, perhaps, to project sophistication, status, and taste. This has been standard practice for centuries. Even government agencies acquire art objects.

Because of the interlacing of business and politics, the artist and her works are one or two steps removed from the world of politics, diplomacy, policymaking, trade and finance. These sectors play an important role in shaping the direction of the societies in which they evolve and which they nurture with their investments and know-how, for better or for worse. They also become enmeshed in the sponsorship, financing and promotion of political movements and parties, small or large, in their attempt to shape policies that benefit their best interests. There too, art becomes intertwined with these events, where art objects with value and significance can change hands among the upper echelons of the society and their fate, in turn, can be more closely determined if the winds of change blow in one or another direction.

When we look at the history of objects and that of the people who produced them, acquired them, traded them and displayed them, we are peering into the history of society as we grapple with the story behind these objects. It’s up to museums, those cultural temples that, in principle, are there to educate the citizenry to recount those stories; more often than not, their leaders gut these objects of their context.

Artists do become embroiled in partisan affairs—they tend to take sides in debates that affect large segments of civil society, the direction that policies take, depending on their influence their voice and their works can become part of larger political debates. These stances become part of the stories of these objects. Artists’ faith and beliefs can determine their own fate and destinies, as well as that of their works, depending on what party or formation takes the reins of political and economic power in the societies where they express themselves. That too becomes part of the story of the objects they have created as they make their way from one owner to the next, one storage place to the other, they cross borders, enter institutions or homes in other countries as a result of choices made by their owners or their exhibitors or borrowers. This too becomes part of the story of these objects and should be consigned to paper or to digital templates—so that others may learn more about how art and its creators intersect with what we understand as History, the combined stories of people, entities, groups, communities, and those who lead them.

The art world should not shy away from telling these stories as they relate to the objects, their creators, and their successive owners.