It turns out that the painting of a windmill Le Blute-fin in Montmartre is a bona fide Van Gogh — one of only five ‘new’ paintings attribruted to the master since 1970. For decades, the painting has been in storage at the Museum de Fundatie in Zwolle. The reason why it took so long to verify this painting is that it once belonged to the collector Dirk Hannema (1895-1984), a man famous for buying De Emmausgangers for Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen in Rotterdam. Hannema thought he was dealing with a true Vermeer, but actually it was a true Van Meegeren…
In 1947, Hans van Meegeren died in Amsterdam. He had just been sentenced to a year in jail for forging Vermeer paintings. Under the original charge of collaboration, this sentence would have been death. His downfall began during World War II when the stagnant art market was being revitalised by the German special units commissioned by Göring to buy, trade and/or plunder as many of Europe’s art treasures as possible. After the war when Göring’s prized booty was unearthed in an Austrian salt mine, the Allieds found a Vermeer entitled Christ with the Adulteress. Investigation led to Meegeren, a renowned art dealer. After his arrest, he proved in court that he himself had painted it and should therefore be treated like a hero for scamming Nazi scum. Göring apparently cried the salted tears of a knee-scuffed child when he heard about it while on trial in Nuremberg. This story spread and Hollywood began planning a film version of this remarkable story.
Van Meegeren had actually pulled the same scam many times before the war. Ironically, one of the 200 paintings he received from Göring for Christ with Adulteress was one of his earlier Vermeer forgeries. He also sold another early ‘Vermeer’, De Emmausgangers, to a Rotterdam museum via Dirk Hannema for millions. But it wasn’t just pure artistry that made Van Meegeren rich. When looked at today, the faces he painted look less 17th Century and more like Valentino and Garbo (since he recruited his models by ripping them out of movie mags). His success seemed to be mostly derived from an obsessive desire for revenge.
Back in the ‘20s, Meegeren’s own original efforts — of cuddly fawns and such — was dissed by many critics, one of whom happened to be the country’s Vermeer authority who had devised a whole theory around the artist’s ‘missing ten years’. So Meegeren chose themes and a style that echoed these speculations. It was bait and then checkmate as the ‘authority’ happily authenticated his ‘proofs’. With money rolling in throughout the ‘30s to feed his alcohol and morphine habit, Meegeren kept this smug secret private while exacting a more public revenge on his other detractors by publishing articles that explained their ‘lack of taste’ in terms of their racial inferiority.
Hollywood continues to struggle with the screenplay. And now with the proof that Hannema could also recognise a non-fake painting, the story has just got that much more richer…
Posted: February 28, 2010 at 11:04 am. Add a comment
Thanks to the European Cultural Foundation, I interviewed two very inspiring folks: Borka Pavićević (pictured) and Stefan Kaegi. They were the winners of the Routes Award for Cultural Diversity 2009 for their work in theater championing the voices of the “other”.
Borka, in particular, has long been a hero of mine ever since I first visited ex-Yugoslavia. As the founder of Belgrade’s Centre for Cultural Decontamination, she has fought the good fight against a steady stream of nationalists, gangsters and populist pricks. The Centre was one of the first places I went when I felt dirty from sitting behind Mira Markovic, wife of Milosevic, on a flight between Amsterdam and Belgrade in 2001.
I went to the awards ceremony in Brussels a couple of weeks ago and certainly had a couple of culturally diverse moments. It was at the Royal Flemish Theater and when we arrived early, my friend and I went to the next door cafe to kill some time. The waitress refused to talk Dutch with us — which we thought ironic since we were at a Dutch-language theater for an award’s ceremony dedicated to cultural diversity.
After the ceremony I went over to introduce myself to Borka and she greeted me very warmly thanks to some common friends (ah, I do miss the Balkans sometimes…). She asked me if I had ever met Princess Margriet of the Netherlands. I hadn’t so I shook the princess’s hand. Then Borka wanted to introduce me to some Belgrade journalist — “you actually probably know him, he’s the one that they tried to blow up with not one but two bombs.” But just as I was about to shake his hand, a plate of oysters came by and the crowd — royalty, journalists, etc — swooped in. It was a moment of true diversity. The oysters were dang tasty as well.
Head down to Paradiso this Friday 29 January for the best of Pips:Lab. You can look upon PIPS:lab as a kind of A-Team — where the ‘A’ stands for ‘Art School Dropout’. Actually, they are more like MacGyver — but then with a sense of humour and a taste for Human Growth Hormone. But seriously, PIPS:lab tells a heart warming, and often brain melting, story of what happens when a collective of artists from a variety of disciplines seek to create everything, from software to vocal harmonies, themselves. Combining new media, theatre, music, film and photography — along with tech, chuckles and raw public interaction — PIPS:lab produce everything from theatrical performances to installations. And it’s all done live in your face, right down to the video editing.
For example, their Washing Powder Conspiracy show is a groovy, funny and catchy laundry-themed multimedia theatre concert. And while loose and wacky, the show is still tighter than two people in a washing machine. Everything — from the sing-along tunes and primal screaming right through to the light graffiti artistry and outfits — refers to washing powder. Things that did not quite make sense from earlier in the show are later power edited live to form new backdrops for yet more nonsensical acts of madness. Where else can absurdist speeches about detergents be magically transformed into radical political statements? Meanwhile all the happy chaos is rhythmically backed by a washing machine, three dryers and a sextet of irons. And remember folks, your whites can always get whiter…
Meanwhile, staying in touch with friends and loved ones just gets easier and easier these day. And now it’s even possible to stay in touch with the dead thanks to the internet community DieSpace. Step right up folks! Yes indeed, with laptops, cameras and light sensors, PIPS:lab has created a interactive musical show about post-mortem social networking. And with today’s ongoing ‘grayification’ of society, it’s not such a crazy idea — especially if you believe the onstage marketing manager/show master. Meanwhile… Your mug shot is being projected on the screen since he chosen you, above all others, for a DieSpace Premium Account!
There is a new virtual museum dedicated to the Amsterdammer, Dr FrederikRuysch (1638-1731), who is regarded as one of the greatest anatomist and preserver of body-bits of all time. But he was not just content with potting parts in brine and suspending Siamese twin foetuses in solution. Artistic compulsion led him to construct moralistic panoramas of bone and tissue. He started simple: an ornate box of fly eggs labelled as being taken from the backside of ‘a distinguished gentleman who sat too long in the privey’. Another had a mounted baby’s leg kicking the skull of a prostitute. But these were tame next to his later work which oozed with baroque extravagance: gall- and kidney-stones piled up to suggest landscape, dried arteries and veins weaved into lush shrubs, testicles crafted into pottery, and these whole scenes animated with skeletal foetuses who danced and played violins strung with strings of dried gut.
A visiting Peter the Great (1672-1725), who was passing through to learn shipbuilding and how to build a city on a bog (which would inspire his pet project St Petersburg) became fascinated with this collection of preserved freaks — not surprising for a seven-foot giant of a man. After kissing the forehead of a preserved baby, Peter paid Ruysch f30 000 for the complete collection and brought it all back to St Petersburg with him.
You can still get a flavour of those heady times by visiting the Waag which once served as Death Central as the place where criminals were executed and later dissected in its Theatrum Anatomicum, a spot immortalized by Rembrandt as the setting for his goriest paintings The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Tulp (the guy who had Ruysch’s job before him). You can also check out the painting The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Frederick Ruysch by Jan van Neck (pictured) at the Amsterdam Historical Museum. And for another impressive collection of dead bits, be sure to visit the frolicsomely named Museum Vrolik that is located in the Amsterdam’s largest hospital and features a bona fide Cyclops in brine.
As previously mentioned last month, I interviewed the artist Pieter Paul Pothoven about his trek through Afghanistan in search of Lapis Lazuli for PRESENTeert, a “pamphlet about painting”. I have now pasted it below. What a story!
If artist Pieter Paul Pothoven was a rock, he’d be Lapis Lazuli, the blue rock used to make that extremely colourfast pigment ultramarine favoured by Vermeer. Pothoven has just returned from the remote Hindu-Kush mountain range in North East Afghanistan where he visited the mines from which this iconic rock originates.
So when did this rock start to roll for you?
Since graduating from Rietveld Academy three years ago, I’ve been researching various subjects related to the Middle East. For example as a pseudo-biologist, I recorded bird and frog sounds in marshes in Lebanon, Iraq, Iran and Israel. I guess I was attracted to the romance of hiding in war zone marshlands.
I’ve also always been fascinated about the idea of fleeing and caves, especially those in Afghanistan (Bin Laden in Tora Bora and all that) and as mysterious holes from which evil seems to escape — if we are to believe the media. Then I heard about these caves where for the last 6500 years they’ve been mining the highest quality of Lapis Lazuli as probably the world’s oldest still-existing commercial mining venture. So immediately I wanted to go…
Was there was a magical moment where you connected the paintings of Vermeer with a cave in Afghanistan?
Well, I immediately liked the idea that this blue is very colourfast — uninfluenced by light. Here you have this stable blue coming from a rather unstable country. However when I returned, conservators of the Rijksmuseum and the Mauritshuis told me about the “ultramarine sickness” that has the pigment fading somewhat due to acids in the air. But it’s nothing like the other blues available. Just look at Rembrandt who used the cheap stuff and all his blues went brown.
Tell me more about the stone’s history and magic…
They can tell the age of the mines because of artefacts found from as far back as Babylonian and Mesopotamian times. The death mask of Tutankhamen includes Lapis Lazuli, Cleopatra used it for eye shadow, and many think that they are also the “sapphires” referred to in the Old Testament. As for spiritual healing, it is said to be good for wisdom and beneficial for your throat chakra — whatever that means. Maybe it’s good for smokers?
In painting?
Since the early Renaissance it has been coming to Europe via the silk route to what is now Lebanon and then over the sea — that’s why it’s called ultramarine (“from over the sea”) — to Venice where it was grounded down and then sold through the rest of Europe. It was extremely expensive, often more so than gold. In the Renaissance, it was only used in paintings to highlight Jesus or the Virgin Mary but by the Dutch Golden Age, it had become a symbol for wealth. For example, Pieter de Ring’s Still Life with Lobster from around 1650 uses ultramarine for the tablecloth. It’s actually a painting without any meaning — it’s just about money.
But Vermeer was the ultimate crackhead for the stuff?
He was totally obsessed. He even used it as an under layer. Even his white walls usually have some ultramarine under it.
So how is Lapis Lazuli prepared into pigment?
Cennino Cennini in his Libro dell’Arte, a 15th century handbook for painters, describes the procedure and it involves a lot of grinding. The funny thing is that he recommends giving the job to a young woman because they are home all the time and still have nice hands. He warns against old women doing it…
So why haven’t we heard more about this great story?
The primary written sources are extremely rare and often contradict each other. And usually it’s only mentioned and not described in any detail. The area is also very hard to get to: physically and bureaucratically.
It is Afghanistan after all… And in a place where neither the Russians nor the Taliban ever influenced? Yes and as a mine, it has always been protected. I guess from our perspective it is run by corrupt warlords but they just see themselves as old soldiers protecting their investment. In fact selling Lapis Lazuli across the border in Pakistan was one of the “documented” ways the Mujahadeen supported their fight against the Russians. But of course most of their money came from abroad, for example from the CIA.
So how did you manage to get there?
I had an army of angels on my shoulder and a grant from the BKVK fund. Afghanistan is not part of the global village so you have to think hard. It took me three weeks to arrange by starting with one contact in Kabul and doing everything in small steps. For safety you should always have a contact or relative to fall back on in case something goes wrong. But it really came down to having bribe money and some very lucky contacts. The commander Assad Allah who is in charge of the area turned out to be the brother of the neighbour of my guide. I paid him 500 dollars — which was very inexpensive.
Small world!
Yes and suddenly everything was also much cheaper and easier.
Tell me about the visit.
I only spent three days (plus three to get there and three to get back) because of tensions with the various people protecting their interests there. But thanks to being a “relative of the commander”, I was allowed. So there I was the only Westerner with just one guide and no protection. I was walking around with a money belt filled with 7000 dollars in a place where people earn two dollars for a twelve hour day. The village itself was a cross between a Neolithic settlement and a Hollywood Western town. The ground is covered with blue debris, and the villagers even use the rock for their huts which makes the village fade into the natural landscape. The mines themselves are death traps. I used my scarf as a dust mask. While I was making notes the ground trembled with dynamite explosions.
So how did you get your collection back?
The Dutch army. And thanks to them I did not have to pay import or export tax. The diplomatic suitcase covered a lot of costs for me. So you could say this project is co-sponsored by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
So, um, how did you manage that?
Every Wednesday the Dutch embassy in Kabul hosts a borrel for Dutch people. There I spoke with an Embassy guy who said “no problem, we can bring them back for you.” So I brought my 60-kilogram bag of rocks on the back of my bike. It was too heavy for him to bring himself so he found another guy who could arrange it with the army. It took four months, but I finally got them!
What are you going to do now?
I’m digesting everything: old documents, maps, photographs, texts and, of course, the stones themselves. As a pseudo-geologist, I’m mapping the origins of ultramarine, the different kinds of Lapis Lazuli, and the mines where it’s excavated. After this, I’ll start grinding the stones which I guess will take some weeks…
Great. Perhaps I’ll come back and score some off you. A story like this makes me hungry for more than just lobster.
My pals, the Anacondas, just released this great new video that comes backed with a heart-warming story from the world of subsidies. After trying to get a relatively straight arts subsidy to make this video, they gave up and instead got one that ties in art with education — apparently that’s where the funding money is these days. For a week, the band worked with teen students building props and filming stock. The results speak for themselves as another solid bit of evidence that — yes indeed — the kids are alright…
The fine artiste Aquil Copier, friend and cherished ex-Weekly collegue, has just started a pamphlet about painting: PRESENTeert.
Track down a copy (he’ll even send you one…) and check it out.
I interviewed the artist Pieter Paul Pothoven who has just returned from the caves of Afghanistan where he visited the mines supplying the Lapis Lazuli that formed the basis for Vermeer’s blue. What a story! And a story I will probably post here once the hard copies run out…
The former shipyards of NDSM in Amsterdam Noord is a post-industrial wonderland which features the biggest “breeding ground” for the arts in the country with over 200 artist studios. This Saturday 14 November, they are having an open house. I love this place: it’s got the free ferry ride from behind Centraal Station, lots of apocalyptic eye candy and a great cafe/restaurant. I’ve written about this place a lot – here for instance – because I saw it as a microcosm of Amsterdam (or even the world) where the battle between arts and commerce is playing out. But since the credit crunch, the commerce part has stepped backed and the area seems to be reverting back to its more purely arty roots. Hell, they even found a new place to squat: the former pumping station…
Posted: November 12, 2009 at 10:56 am. Add a comment
My piece about the new museums in Belgium dedicated to surrealist Rene Magritte and Tintin-creator Herge has been published in today’s Globe&Mail. Read it here before rushing out to buy a bowler hat of your own.
Until 26 October it’s worth heading into Zuid for ArtZuid 2009. Apollolaan and Minervalaan have been filled with some great sculptures by the inspired likes of Joep van Lieshout (BikiniBar), Paul McCarthy (Bronze Blockhead), Panamarenko (Brazil) and some guy named Rodin (Le Penseur). Pack yourself a bronzed picnic and go and hang out a while…
Van Meegeren had actually pulled the same scam many times before the war. Ironically, one of the 200 paintings he received from Göring for Christ with Adulteress was one of his earlier Vermeer forgeries. He also sold another early ‘Vermeer’, De Emmausgangers, to a Rotterdam museum via Dirk Hannema for millions. But it wasn’t just pure artistry that made Van Meegeren rich. When looked at today, the faces he painted look less 17th Century and more like Valentino and Garbo (since he recruited his models by ripping them out of movie mags). His success seemed to be mostly derived from an obsessive desire for revenge.
Thanks to the 
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A visiting Peter the Great (1672-1725), who was passing through to learn shipbuilding and how to build a city on a bog (which would inspire his pet project St Petersburg) became fascinated with this collection of preserved freaks — not surprising for a seven-foot giant of a man. After kissing the forehead of a preserved baby, Peter paid Ruysch f30 000 for the complete collection and brought it all back to St Petersburg with him.
As previously 
The fine artiste 
The former shipyards of 
My piece about the new museums in Belgium dedicated to surrealist Rene Magritte and Tintin-creator Herge has been published in today’s 
