ART PICK OF THE MONTH (Feb. '11)

Rubell Family Art Collection, Miami

The Story of Jason, Keith Haring (1987)

Having heard all about the Rubells and their audacious, cutting-edge art collection, I was excited to take a break from sunbathing and make my way to the nondescript warehouse once serving as a Drug Enforcement Administration storage facility for cocaine and cash and now home to one of the greatest collections in the country. Given how off the beaten tourist path the collection is, I was expecting an unusually serene viewing experience but I was delighted to discover on arrival that I was actually the only one there (the Foundation purportedly receives an average pf 200 visitors a week). A private  viewing of a unique collection -- doesn't get much better than this right?

Well sort of. There were two exhibits on: "Time Capsule" and "How Soon Now." The first was the re-installation of Jason Rubell's senior curatorial project exhibited at Duke University Museum of Art in 1991, a collection of artworks he built-up from 1982 (when he was only 13 years old) right up to the inaugural date of the exhibition. The mini-collection, which included the nine black and white photo collages by Keith Haring captured in the photo above, was so intriguing and had some fantastic pieces. As I walked through the eclectic mix of artistic styles, mediums and subject matter, I tried to imagine what could have motivated a teenage Jason Rubell to sell his tennis rackets and golf clubs (true story) to be able to acquire another artwork to add to his growing collection now hanging before me decades later. The works themselves varied in quality but there were a few outstanding pieces such as an Andreas Gursky photograph of a public swimming pool, three Richard Prince "jokes," an architecturally-inspired lineal drawing by Sol LeWitt and a stunning Cindy Sherman photograph. But what did it mean that I had just-so-happened to pick out the works by the "big names?" Was it a natural consequence of these artists' superior talents or was it that my viewing of Time Capsule (and any art for that matter) was subconsciously pre-conditioned by my knowledge of these notorious artists, their styles and their works? I approached the works with a completely open mind and although for one reason or another I was drawn to the more well known artists, that is not to say that the lesser known works did not warrant attention or the mini-collection taken as a whole (it would have been interesting to view the works chronologically to see the progression but that was not the curatorial approach adopted (it was unclear what it was)).

Still with an open  mind, I wandered to the other temporary exhibit (the gallery changes exhibitions twice yearly). It was a complete contrast to "Time Capsule" and not in a good way. There seemed to be no curatorial theme whatsoever linking the works, most of which were very recent acquisitions. And while I have no problem with erotic, hugely graphic art, several of the works felt like provocation for the sake of provocation. "How Soon Now" was neither interesting nor enjoyable to view and some of the works were frankly laughable -- a piece of purple cloth pinned to a wall is art? Really? The fabric had barely, if at all, been worked; it could have been a kitchen towel pinned to any wall (I have no sympathy for this kind of art - I felt the same way when I saw Gabriel Orozco's Yogurt Caps, which consisted of one blue Dannon lid attached to each of the four walls of an otherwise empty room. At the time, it received mixed reviews with Art in America calling the show "yet another tedious effort to wed neo-conceptualism to commodity critique;" Frieze went with "disarming articulation of emptiness"). But beyond trying to draw the line between what constitutes art and what does not, the exhibit was lifeless (ironic really with all that sex) and lacked any concept (also ironic given the likely strong influence of conceptualism on these artists). I would only make an exception for the two Cecily Brown paintings which, like most of her outstanding work, were so dramatic with those decisive, thick, colorful paint strokes. Thankfully, "Time Capsule" alone made the trip to the out-of-the-way warehouse worthwhile and I didn't feel too bad about giving-up a couple of hours of beach time.

A natural pairing: restitution and the jurisdictional question, this time with a twist

WASHINGTON, DC. In virtually every restitution claim filed in federal court against a defendant foreign nation, the defendant challenges the basis of the court's jurisdiction. In December it was Spain and now it's Hungary who claims that neither the "expropriation" or the "commercial" exceptions to the Foreign Sovereign Immunities Act (the "FSIA") apply to give the federal district court in DC jurisdiction to hear and adjudicate the suit instituted by Baron Herzog's heirs against Hungary and four state-owned museums for the restitution of "at least 40 works" looted by the government and its Nazi collaborators in 1944. From a litigation strategy perspective, it's not surprising that, where the defendant is a foreign sovereign nation, the initial response is to seek dismissal on the grounds of lack of jurisdiction. This is because if successful, it avoids having to mount a defense on the merits of the claim. However, the "jurisdictional question" in this particular case is unique due to the 1973 US-Hungarian Claims Settlement Agreement which, according to Hungary, overrides the FSIA exceptions should these even apply to give jurisdiction (Hungary says they do not). 

Modeled on the Rumanian and Bulgarian lump sum agreements of 1960 and 1963, respectively, the US-Hungarian Agreement was aimed at the "preadjudication" of claims of the United States and its nationals against Hungary for property claims arising out of the Hungarian government's actions during WWII. By its terms, the Agreement was "in full and final settlement" of claims against Hungary in respect of which the United States received a lump sum of $18.9 million (as settlement for claims allegedly worth $80,296,047), payable in 20 equal installments starting June 30, 1973. In return, the United States agreed to waive all claims against Hungary upon full payment, whether on its behalf or on behalf of its nationals, existing or prospective. The distribution of the funds received fell within the exclusive competence of the United States with Hungary incurring no liability whatsoever in respect thereof and US nationals looking to their own government for compensation.

Aside from contesting jurisdiction, Hungary has also argued that plaintiff De Csepel's relatives already received compensation under a US 1955 programme constituting another possible ground for dismissal. Counsel for the plaintiffs has "urged the court to reach an independent decision on the merits of the family’s claim and disregard the technical roadblocks once more being raised by Hungary." But this is not a winning argument in favor of invoking the court's jurisdiction: the court cannot legitimately find jurisdiction based on its own view that the plaintiffs deserve adjudication of their claim. Likewise, emphasising Hungary's current Presidency of the EU and its obligations under the Washington Principles and the Terezin Declaration may put pressure on Hungary to compensate the plaintiffs but it has nothing to do with resolving the jurisdictional question. The plaintiffs' response is due April 1.

"The Getty will get its Turner"



Modern Rome -- Campo Vaccino, J.M.W. Turner (1839)

Last year, the Getty Museum bought the Turner "Modern Rome" at auction for £29.7m (setting a new record for the artist which was not surprising given the work had only come to market once in its 171 history and experts considered it to be Turner's finest landscape of an Italian city). The painting had resided on loan in the National Galleries of Scotland in Edinburgh since 1978 before being transferred to Sotheby's in London for the auction. However, following the sale, its export to LA was delayed in an attempt to find a UK buyer able to match the hefty price tag and prevent the national loss, a practise previously discussed on this blog (see here and here).

No buyer was found and the export license was finally granted earlier this month with the Getty now preparing to celebrate the arrival of its "new pride and joy," due to go on display March 8. But is it ok for the Getty to "celebrate"? Donn Zaretsky has posted on the hypocrisy of "celebrating" a foreign museum's loss while fiercely opposing deaccessioning by national institutions such as Fisk University or the University of Iowa (the former resulting in extensive and ongoing litigation over the fate of the Stieglitz Collection and the latter almost succeeding in the enactment of legislation to create an endowment fund for as many as 1,000 student scholarships to avoid having to sell the Pollock "Mural"). While I fully agree that the anti-deaccessioning police's stance is often ridden with double standards and contradictory arguments, in this case I don't think that their failure to denounce the ethics of the Getty's acquisition is hypocritical because the painting was only on loan at the National Galleries. In other words, no deaccessioning took place -- it was offered for sale by a private, not a public, seller: a descendant of the 5th Earl of Rosebery. So for once it seems we can all celebrate in unison without raising any eyebrows.

Hiatus

Art Meets Law will be back in two weeks due to conflicting work commitments. Stay tuned!

Russia retaliates

MOSCOW/WASHINGTON D.C. The Chabad organization (based in Brooklyn, New York) has for decades sought the restitution of the Schneerson Library, "a collection of 12,000 books and 50,000 religious documents assembled by the Chabad-Lubavitch Hasidic movement over two centuries prior to World War II, and kept since in Russia." The New York Times reports that just before the collapse of the Soviet Union, a court in Moscow ordered the return of the artifacts to the organization but the judgment was subsequently set-aside by Russian authorities. The District Court for the District of Columbia then ordered Russia to repatriate the collection in July 2010 but Russia took no part in the proceedings and contested the court's jurisdiction to adjudicate a claim based on "Russian" assets, located in Russia (I suspect the court's jurisdiction was grounded in the "expropriation exception" under the FSIA - cf the Pisarro claim on the jurisdictional question). Russia retaliated by putting pressure on state-run museums in the country (including the Hermitage and the Pushkin) to cancel scheduled loans to US museums alleging that the loaned works could be seized in the US to compel compliance with the Schneerson judgment. American diplomats insisted that was not the case and I believe that's a correct statement of the law - the loaned works would be immune from seizure under the FSIA and since title over these works is not contested, I don't think they could be attached. Nevertheless, the scheduled loans have been canceled as a result of the fallout which will now be noticeably felt in the US this year as several blockbuster shows miss out on promised loaned works.

"All bark, no bite"

SAN FRANCISCO. The New York Times has reported that Jeff Koons LLC and Park Life gallery have reached a settlement in the dispute regarding the alleged infringement of the artist's intellectual property rights by the gallery's sales of balloon dog bookends (see here for background). The artist agreed not to "pursue" the claim if the gallery didn't tie the bookends to Koons in any way, which they had not done nor had any intention of doing. As a result of the deal, the gallery will file to dismiss the declaratory judgment suit sought in federal court. The Canadian manufacturer of the bookends, Imm-Living, received a similar letter stating the artist was dropping any intellectual claims if the bookends didn't "try to tie Koons to the bookends." Done, said the bookend maker, provided they received a letter confirming that the settlement was final.