A New York bill signed into law on August 10, 2022 will require museums to provide a notice to viewers if works of art on display have links to the Holocaust. This groundbreaking and restorative legislation accompanies two other Holocaust-related bills signed into law: one aimed at increasing Holocaust literacy through curricula in educational institutions, and the other designed to increase pressure on banks that assess fees related to Holocaust reparations. All three bills work in concert to combat rising reports of antisemitism through these targeted cultural, economic, and educational channels.
Provenance
While other states are considering enacting similar legislation to increase Holocaust literacy in schools, New York stands apart in dictating these trailblazing requirements for museums to publicly acknowledge the devastating conditions under which they may have acquired certain works. The origin of a work of art is known as its provenance, and its applicability extends beyond Holocaust-era stolen works (you can access our blog post on the fight to prove provenance for Mexican antiquities here). Provenance is important not only to establish a chain of title when purchasing a work, but also to determine its cultural, political, and financial value.
Proving provenance is no small task, particularly when items have been stolen. This task is rendered even more difficult when the theft occurred during or shortly after the chaos of war. In the case of works stolen during the Holocaust, both these hurdles were present, with the added complications of global economic upheaval, unimaginable human suffering, an overwhelming refugee crisis, and the genocide of the class of people from whom the works were primarily stolen. The process of proving provenance for works stolen during WWII typically involves the heirs of deceased Jewish family members bringing claims to museums in hopes of establishing legitimate ownership of works held by a museum through whatever documents were salvaged after the war. This can include references in letters and diaries, family photographs, and bills of sale. The museum then has its own systems to determine the legitimacy of such claims. If provenance is not proven after the museum’s internal investigation, the museum is then able to claim that it “legally” retains the artwork.
Of course, this is devastating news to families seeking to reclaim an important piece of family heritage. If a museum denies heirs’ claims, they may proceed to file litigation. One high-profile example is Gustav Klimt’s portrait of Maria Altmann, titled Woman in Gold. Another is the ongoing Cassirer case, involving the Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza in Madrid. However, these cases often take years – if not decades – to resolve, leaving the artwork in legal limbo until a final decision or settlement is made.
It is important to keep in mind that Gov. Hochul’s new law does not specifically address the need to return works to individual families (restitution). However, it does bring to light the importance of acknowledging a work’s provenance as an important cultural indicator of the suffering of a class of people, even if it does not repair the harm done to individual families. Thus, the heirs or successors-in-interest of a dispossessed owner will need to rely on alternative avenues to recover their property.
Restitution
The effect of the public notice requirement speaks to justice outside the courts that can be accomplished through the voluntary restitution of stolen artwork. When restitution is carried out by leading art institutions as part of a larger “duty to remember,” it aids in cultivating peace and strengthening non-legal measures of restitution. Furthermore, it sets a positive example for other art world participants. While public art institutions have often not returned potentially looted art to the heirs of their original owners when proof of theft is not evident, many have expressed a desire to not retain stolen work. Even so, museums as a whole tend to be reluctant to part with prized pieces, particularly when the works claimed as stolen are the very ones that draw visitors to their galleries.
Case law
Decades of case law in the U.S. indicate the difficulties facing claimants. Recent cases against New York museums resulted in wins for the institutions, yet not due to the merits of each respective case. Rather, the Museum of Modern Art squeaked out wins through a confidential settlement, and defended itself by claiming that the statute of limitations had run. In another case, the Metropolitan Museum of Art made the affirmative defense of laches, under the theory that claimants made an unreasonable delay in bringing suit against the museum for a valuable painting by Picasso.
Even the most recent ruling in the Guelph Treasure litigation did not fare well for the claimant heirs. The Guelph Treasure litigation follows claims brought by the heirs to a priceless haul of German ecclesiastical relics, currently on display in the Bode Museum in Berlin. The heirs claim that the relics were sold under duress to the Nazi government in 1935 for less than their market value. The museum’s foundation argues that the sale was voluntary, and, further, was not made under the pressure of Nazi occupation in Germany.
Last month’s ruling by the District Court for the District of Columbia dismissed the case on jurisdictional grounds, stating that the Foreign Sovereign Immunity Act (FSIA) blocked suit of Germany in U.S. court (this confirms the holding by the U.S. Supreme Court that remanded the matter to the district court). The claimants relied on an exception to the FSIA which prohibits expropriations that violate international law, arguing that dispossession in cases of genocide qualified for this rule. However, the court found that the claimants failed to prove that their ancestors were not German nationals at the time of the sale, meaning that only domestic law – not international law – was involved. As such, U.S. courts do not have subject matter jurisdiction over the matter, meaning that U.S. courts are unable to make determinations on German domestic law.
The district court’s decision does not eliminate the possibility of appeal or further pursuit of the Guelph Treasure through alternate measures in Europe. However, claimants often prefer to file disputes in the U.S. because American courts have historically been more lenient for Holocaust-related actions, particularly on statute of limitations grounds. In most European countries, causes of action for property stolen or lost during WWII have already expired. For example, Poland recently passed legislation that reduced the statute of limitations on all restitution cases to 30 years from the theft’s occurrence; this effectively bars all Holocaust restitution claims.
It is important to note that not all hope is lost. Some museums have, on their own initiative, refused to turn a blind eye to the problematic origins of some of their beloved works. The North Carolina Museum of Art, for example, returned a 16th-century painting by Lucas Cranach the Elder to an Austrian family after learning that the work was stolen by Nazi officials in 1940. And the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston (MFA) recently returned View of Beverwijk by Salomon van Ruysdael to the descendants of a Jewish art collector and politican, from whom the work was stolen by Nazi forces.
In the case of the return of View of Beverwijk, the museum and the claimant family each had a role in making the restitution possible. First, the MFA received new provenance information regarding the work and updated its museum website. The family’s lawyer then used that new information to provide a missing link to prove their ancestor’s possession.
It was truly a moment of teamwork, and sets an example for other museums seeking to actively become part of the solution in remedying the trauma of the Holocaust. The MFA’s curator for provenance, Victoria Reed, stated (upon the return), “To be able to redress that loss, even in a tiny way, I think, is gratifying. And it certainly is part of what we should be doing as a museum.”
At the same time, voluntary returns of artwork by museums are few and far between, and the battle for individuals seeking to prove provenance remains a lengthy, cumbersome, expensive, and uphill battle. In light of these hurdles, requiring museums to publicly notify guests of the potentially tragic origins of works they have on display is a start. Doing so gives voice to the people who were silenced under the traumatic and systematic genocide of the Holocaust and lost their homes, families, and ties to their history and culture.
New York’s actions, in this sense, are an act of strength in the face of the general reluctance by museums to acknowledge that there are times in which the display of art may perpetuate war crimes. As Maya Angelou put it, “History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived. But if faced with courage, need not be lived again.”