A Major Art Loan Questioned

A few years ago, I wrote a Missive on a newly discovered fragment of the Bayeux Tapestry, the 230-foot embroidery illustrating the Battle of Hastings of 1066 when William the Conqueror defeated Harold Godwinson to become the first Norman King of England.

https://www.geraldstiebel.com/2025/04/will-bayeux-tapestry-get-longer.html

There have been discussions since 1953 about lending this important work of art from its museum home in Bayeux, Normandy, for an exhibition in England, where it was created. President Emmanuel Macron announced the latest plan in 2018 since the Bayeux Museum required renovations.

According to the Smithsonian Magazine, in 2022 the cultural authorities of Normandy commissioned three scholars to study the feasibility of moving the tapestry. While the scholars remain unnamed and their report kept confidential, it was declared that the report “does not state that this tapestry is untransportable”! Six months ago, it was announced as a fait accompli that the British Museum would have the exhibition of the century with the tapestry on view for 10 months.

How do you value an irreplaceable work of art that is an important part of the history of two countries? It was decided that eight hundred million pounds or 1.1 billion dollars would be covered by England’s Government Indemnity Scheme, i.e., the British Treasury, and would be sufficient. I am sure that the highest recorded sale of a work of art, Leonardo’s “Salvator Mundi”, sold for over $450 million dollars, came into the calculation. To whom would it be paid in the event, and what would be done with the money then? Now that is an interesting hypothetical.

Still, there is no way of ensuring the priceless adequately. I can imagine that some would say why bother insuring it at all? One consideration is that when you put a high monetary value on anything, more thought and care are taken with that object. Of course, it would be a political disaster to tell the public it had no value.

The issue comes down to why take the risk of lending it? Those defending the decision say it had to be moved in any case for the construction of a new state-of-the-art installation in Normandy, and it is already in storage, so why not put it on view where it would gain incredible publicity not only for the British Museum but more importantly for the work of art itself? When it came back home, it would be sure to bring many more visitors to the new Bayeux Museum.

The best way to bring wide attention to a matter is if a celebrity, not a scholar or politician, is willing to raise their voice in support or opposition to an idea. In this case, the pre-eminent British artist, David Hockney, has done so. He wrote an op-ed in The Independent, UK, stating his opposition to moving the tapestry. Hockney now lives in Normandy and has visited the Bayeux Tapestry more than 20 times in the last 3 years. He has declared it “madness” to have it travel.

Hockney suggests that a replica would tell the story just as well. Rather than my quoting what he wrote, I will let you read it for yourselves. There is also an amusing video by President Macron regarding the loan. 

https://www.the-independent.com/arts-entertainment/art/features/bayeux-tapestry-david-hockney-british-museum-b2899775.html

I am always of two minds regarding loans. I was not happy when the Metropolitan Museum did not lend its two Vermeers to the Vermeer exhibition three years ago due to the donor’s stipulation. It would have put all the known Vermeers together to get a complete view of his work. On the other hand, what if there had been a fire at the Rijksmuseum and the totality of the artist’s work were lost?

I write my Missives for a number of reasons, but most importantly to my mind, is to get my readers to think about an issue in a new way… or just to think about the issue in the first place. So, make up your own mind about this loan, though you probably won’t be able to change anything more than David Hockney can.

Fame’s Uncertain Path

Following up on "Artistic Self-Promotion," what about those artists who were dissed in their own time, only to find appreciation and fame after they were no longer there to enjoy it? Then there were famous and respected artists, who made little money and may have been known only locally when they were alive. They became lost to history, only to be rediscovered centuries later.

The one always mentioned first is Vincent van Gogh (1853-1890). He was clearly unstable from the beginning. In his few productive years, however, he produced over 850 paintings. He sold only one painting during his lifetime at a fair in Brussels in 1890: "The Red Vineyard" (1888), now in the Pushkin State Museum of Fine Arts, Moscow. That same year, he committed suicide at the age of 37.

Artemisia Gentileschi (1593-1654), the daughter of Orazio Gentileschi (1563-1639), was already producing paintings of interest by the age of 15. Her "Susanna and the Elders," painted at the age of 17, is today in the Schönborn Collection, Pommersfelden, Germany. She even became a court painter under the patronage of the Medici. Shortly after her death, however, her reputation suffered from attributions of her work to her father—probably, partly because that is where her inspiration came from, but even more from misogyny and the belief that a woman could not equal a man's achievements. I can remember that in the middle of the last century, I began to hear more and more about her, mostly due to feminist art historians, but backed by evidence of the great paintings that Artemisia actually produced.

Johannes Vermeer (1632-1675) had moderate success and indeed respect locally in Delft during his lifetime. He also had a few wealthy patrons. He made his living, however, as an art dealer. When he died suddenly, he left his family in debt. It did not help that while van Gogh produced arguably more than 850 paintings in his brief career, Vermeer produced only around 35 in his entire lifetime. Acknowledgment of him as a great artist had to wait until the mid-19th century.

Paul Cézanne (1839-1906), called today "The Father of Modern Art," was initially ridiculed and rejected from the Salon, with critics calling his work ugly. Change is always rejected at first. I believe that people enjoy their comfort zone and don't want it disturbed. They are also scared of what the repercussions might be—but that is a subject for another time. Cézanne represented the link between Impressionism and what we call modern art. He became a great influence on Braque and Picasso in their development of the Cubist movement. In the same period, Claude Monet (1840-1926) struggled with critics, who thought his impressionist paintings were strange and unfinished. Did it represent progress or just change?

I will end this missive with a favorite artist of mine, Salvador Dalí (1904-1989). A contemporary of Picasso, Pollock, and Mondrian, he is known best as the iconic figure of Surrealism. The movement, however, was started by the writer, poet, and theorist André Breton. Dalí joined the group in 1929 only to be thrown out by Breton in 1939. According to an Art Net article, Breton found him “too flamboyant, too political, and too fond of money”!

I think this brings my missives of the last two weeks full circle. Dalí is an artist who was thrown out of the very movement with which he is so identified because of his self-promotion.

Artistic Self-Promotion

People say a lot of things about the art world without really thinking them through. You've heard them: "My kid could do that" about abstract expressionism. "Art dealers only care about money." "Museums are above all that—they're educational institutions, not businesses." However, without the economic relationship between art and money, artists would starve, dealers and auction houses wouldn't exist. Museums would have to close their doors.

Nobody knows exactly how many artists worked in the 17th century in Europe, though I've seen estimates ranging from 20,000 to 50,000. Today there are probably 500 times that many. These numbers are rough at best, but here's one that caught my attention: apparently only 10,000 individual artists are represented in museums worldwide. That seems low to me ... add a zero or two and it's still nowhere near all the people who call themselves professional artists.

So why are certain artists collected by museums and not others? Yes, galleries promote specific artists ... that's not untrue. But how were those artists chosen in the first place? And why did institutions acquire their work after sifting through all those thousands of other artists?

I'd argue that self-promotion by the artists themselves plays a huge role, and this isn't some new concept. From the Renaissance on, European artists put their own faces in paintings and sculptures to get noticed. Even in commissioned works, an artist would sneak his likeness in there to satisfy his ego, or advertise his prowess showing that some important patron thought he was good enough for the commission.

Take Giotto di Bondone (?-1337). He is believed to have painted himself into The Last Judgement fresco (around 1305) in the Scrovegni Chapel in Padua. Sure, the donor Enrico Scrovegni is front and center, kneeling at the bottom. But scholars think Giotto slipped his own face in among the saved souls.

Albrecht Dürer (1471-1528) a painter, draughtsman and engraver, was versatile in his subject matter doing portraits, nature, animals and religious subjects demonstrating his abilities to a wide variety of patrons. He took commissions from royalty, the gentry, as well as the Church. His woodcuts and engravings, that even appeared in book form, won him recognition far and wide. Dürer started early using his own image. Here is a silver-point drawing in the Albertina, Vienna which he produced at the age of 13!

And then there's Rembrandt (1606-1669), who wasn't subtle about it at all. He depicted himself in drawings, paintings, and etchings 80 times. He documented his entire life—from when he was young and ambitious right through to old age. Talk about advertising your skills by creating your own visual autobiography! This 1633 engraving exists in a number of museum collections and the painting is in The National Gallery, London, one of 3 self-portraits he did the last year of his life.

Andy Warhol (1928-1987) was the master of self-promotion. He's the one who coined "15 minutes of fame." He grabbed every media opportunity, showed up at every important art event, and made sure he was seen everywhere in the art world.

My wife often tells this story: In 1977, as a Met curator, she introduced Dale Chihuly, who's hugely famous today but wasn't yet, to Henry Gelzahler, the head of the Museum’s Department of Twentieth Century Art and a central figure in the contemporary art scene and urged him to acquire examples of Chihuly’s glasswork. Geldzahler acquired two cylinders, which became the first Chihuly works to enter the permanent collection of a major museum. As Chihuly was leaving his office, Geldzahler offered him a piece of advice “Young man, focus more on your work and less on self-promotion.” Geldzahler got that one wrong!

Today, with social media, artists have so many more ways to promote themselves. The tools have changed, but the basic truth hasn't… talent alone has never been enough.

New Year's Resolutions ... Redux

I am taking off one more week, finding this 8-year-old Missive especially appropriate for this new year. If you can imagine a red cap on the character in the second image down, you also have a perfect meme…

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We have all made New Year’s Resolutions at one time or another, and this is a subject that hits the news every year at this time.  So what is a New Year’s Resolution?

Our tradition of resolving to change undesired behavior or accomplish a personal goal is probably directly attributable to ancient religions, where people made promises to their gods. I remember a time in my life when every morning on my way to school, I would resolve not to go to the nearby Cake Masters Bakery to buy a slice of chocolate layer cake.  I broke that resolution several times a week!  So much for my willpower!

What started me thinking about this subject was an article in our local free paper, The Santa Fe Reporter, whose front cover banner said, “2018 Resolutions”.  After last week’s Missive titled “Charities” for Christmas, “Resolutions” seemed perfect for January 1. The Reporter article, however, was mainly asking known personages in Santa Fe and nationally for their predictions and aspirations. I cannot resist repeating the one that might be closest to my way of thinking after this most depressing year: Kenneth Baumann, a teacher in Santa Fe, said,  “I’d like to see less fascism, more decentralized institutions.  Less authoritarian impulses, less violent persecution of minorities.”

I did, however, want to look up some of the most popular resolutions online and found that every article had a different slant.  Being more careful with money or getting out of debt were, of course, near the top of any list. Also, there was losing weight, eating healthier, getting in better shape (ie, going to the gym), and drinking less alcohol, which could all be considered the same resolution. The one that amused me was spending less time on Social Media: it sounds so new, how is it already a bad habit you want to get over!  Here is a cartoon you will relate to if you have ever thought, “I must listen to my mother more”.

If people have made resolutions for thousands and thousands of years, why have they found them so difficult to keep?  For one thing, even if you continue to work on a resolution for a long period of time, eventually you stop and go back to your old ways.  I know that half a century ago, I lived in London for 9 months and walked everywhere, often 9 miles in a day, and lost 45 lbs.  I actually went to a Savile Row tailor to have my clothes taken in because it was cheaper than buying all new suits.  When I was back in New York and still walked and pedaled a lot, it was never the same. After some time, I gained much of the weight back.  If your patience and stamina don’t pay off sooner or later, you say “What’s the use?"

I found this article from Psychology Today titled, “Why People Can’t Keep Their New Year’s Resolutions”. It looks at what researchers and psychologists have to say.  Articles from various publications are quoted with links as references. It is an interesting method of internet footnoting! The article actually explains my weight problem as my having been discouraged after really trying, but also that resolutions require a “rewiring of the brain,” which is not easy to do on your own.

Artist Cards From Holidays Past ... Redux

Authors' note: I have decided to take a break for the next week or two and asked my Associate, Vince Hickman, who has published my Missives since the beginning, to pick which he thought might be best for the season ...

*originally published Dec 2014

The History Museum in Santa Fe had the wonderful idea to mount a small Christmas card show for this holiday season; “Gustave Baumann and Friends; Artist Cards from Holidays Past” curated by Tom Leech, director of the Palace Press, and guest curator Jean Moss.  Baumann was a German-born artist who came to Santa Fe in 1918.  He was already well known in the U.S. as a print maker when he came here.  The wide distribution of prints throughout time has spread images across time and nations.  So it was with Baumann’s prints of New Mexico making this part of the world better known throughout the states and internationally.

Ann Baumann, Gustave and Jane’s daughter, left to the Fray Angelico Chavez History Library in Santa Fe a collection of original cards that her parents had received and others that they had sent.  There are about 400 cards in the collection and one quarter of them have been chosen for this exhibition.  Here is a photo of Jane and Gustave Baumann with their daughter Ann in 1954 courtesy of the Ann Baumann Trust.

The tradition of Christmas cards started in the times of Charles Dickens and soon were printed en masse by commercial houses.  If you have ever sent out Christmas cards you know it can be an expensive endeavor and artists usually do not have that kind of money to spend frivolously.  Many of them therefore made and printed their own.

The cards in this show are cleverly divided into categories such as, Angels and Madonnas, Santa and the Mailman, and Greeting Irreverent and Belated plus many others.  Of course, since the period of 1918 to 1971 when Baumann died included the Great Depression there is a selection from that time as well.

As said, the show is quite small and in a long narrow gallery but it is dense with gems.  It is a bit like one of those racks of sayings you might find at the Five and Dime and can’t tear yourself away from.  One is continuously surprised by the humor and insights on the cards.

In 1929 the Baumanns received a very appropriate and simple Christmas card from their friends Mary Lou and Oswald Cooper, it says, “We view with frugal disregard; The customary Christmas Fuss; You may have heard that times are hard- This card is all you’ll get from us”. 

The label for the card of mother and child says “Jenny Owens, age 17, linocut, date unknown.  I had a dyslexic moment and read instead of undated, updated, which I thought appropriate for this particular Holy Family. 

Playing on the fact that there is too little rain in New Mexico and water is a continuous source of anguish one of the Baumann greetings says, “The Baumanns send you their best umbrella: Just in case it decides to rain in 1955”.  The printing process was woodcut and marble papered collage and came from the collection of David Carter and Geneva Austin. 

In 1956 the Baumanns came up with a theme that I would love to appropriate considering our interest in the Hopi tribal culture.  It says, “The Hopi are a Peaceful People, Here’s to a Hopi Year for all of us”.

The exhibition also includes audio of the family’s reminiscences and all in all opens a time capsule into the life of an artist, family and friends.

Walatowa

Walatowa means “This is the Place” in the Towa language of the Jemez Indians, and it is the name of their Pueblo, one of the 19 pueblos in New Mexico. The Jemez (Pronounced Hemez) are a group of Tanoan Amerindian peoples who migrated to the area of Northern New Mexico in the 13th century. Today’s village is nestled in a valley of the Jemez mountains off a scenic National Byway, a 45-minute drive from Albuquerque and a bit less than an hour and a half from Santa Fe. We were invited by a Jemez artist to visit on December 12, when they celebrate the Feast Day of Our Lady of Guadalupe, a day with both deep religious and cultural significance. This day is celebrated with the traditional Los Matachines dances, a vibrant Spanish-influenced dance with unique masked dancers and music.

The Matachines dance was first recorded as such in Spain in the first half of the 17th century, when it celebrated the triumph of Christianity over the Moors. It continues to be performed in Mexico and the American Southwest, where it has come to represent the blending of Catholic traditions and Pueblo culture. Jemez preserves two distinct styles of the dance, the Spanish style with violins and a guitar, and the Native version with drums, rattles, and singers. Photography is not allowed on the pueblos, specifically during dances, so this is not my video but one online made several years ago. In some of the footage, you may spot a little girl dressed in white weaving among the lines of costumed dancers. She represents purity and goodness, either Montezuma’s mistress, Malinche, or the Virgin Mary, who must defeat evil in the form of a boy dressed as a bull. In the Spanish version we watched, both children were no more than 5 or 6 years old. The girl selected from the community had to have incredible stamina as she was required to follow the steps of the dance leader for hours. 

We have attended dances in other pueblos, but this experience was different and seemed more personal. There were fewer Anglos present as Jemez is located further off the beaten path than most other pueblos that are easily accessible from the main north-south artery of Interstate Highway 25. It made us feel that we were seeing something even more special than what we had in the past. Coming from the older demographic of Santa Fe, we had never seen a local crowd with so many infants and pre-primary school-age children. Although this was truly a community event, we felt welcome. Any other pueblo dances we have been to, you had to bring your own folding chair if you needed to sit, but here, there were benches set out in front of homes, and room was made on the front steps for those who were not necessarily Native.

The central plaza where the dances took place was ringed by tables with families selling objects mainly made in the pueblo, along with bread, cookies, and sweets. The food that we saw more of than anything else was popcorn! Some of the older kids even purchased drinks made from popcorn in different flavors.

The drive was worthwhile on its own. Once we got off of I-25, we passed every fast-food restaurant you have ever heard of, before heading out on a 68-mile stretch known as The Jemez Mountain Trail. One of the places I have loved since childhood is the German part of Switzerland with its snowcapped mountains and rugged terrain. This was different but just as inspiring, with a topography of rock formations of deeper and richer red as we progressed. The route continues beyond the Pueblo to Jemez Hot Springs and an extensive nature preserve called the Valles Caldera, and through to Bandelier National Monument. This time, we only went as far as the pueblo, so we missed what are reputed to be even more wonderful views. We were happy not to try to do it all, but rather enjoy what we had seen and learned about a place so near to where we live and yet part of another world.

Encroaching Museums

The National Gallery in London recently announced the Project Domani. Celebrating the museum’s 200th birthday, the Gallery intends to expand both architecturally and in the focus of the collection and programming. An international competition is underway to find a prominent architect to add an additional building on a property acquired 30 years ago. The permanent collection is to enlarge its scope, adding 20th and 21st-century art to its famous and fabulous holdings of European Old Masters.

National Gallery, London

The National Gallery and the Tate Modern are State institutions and have had an understanding that the former would collect art up to 1900 and the latter art after that date. However, this appears to have been a long-term issue of contention, most recently addressed by a 2009 agreement where the Tate conceded that the National Gallery could acquire some early 20th-century works.

Tate Modern

I am wondering why the National Gallery has now decided to change the arrangement. It is not necessary for survival or security, as that is guaranteed by the State. The timing is associated with the announcement of the success of the National Gallery in raising £375 million in private funds for the new building, and they wish to raise more for their expansion of the collection. Additional space would allow it to show more of the collection since roughly only half of it is on view. That would make sense to me, but they want to add generations more art to the collection, and I would guess that in the long run, the percentage on view will probably not change.

Inside the National Gallery

One of the supporting statements from the Gallery is that art is a continuum, which is a truism, but does not explain the incursion into the period to which the Tate Modern is dedicated. There is a great museum in London for sculpture and the decorative arts called the Victoria and Albert Museum, which is not included, though that too is part of the continuum.

In an Art Newspaper article, Bendor Grosvenor points out that this change will create a battle over audience and funds. The appointment of a joint committee can hardly be expected to avoid bad blood between the institutions. There will inevitably be competition for work in the market. Since the National Gallery is considered the more prestigious institution, those who have collections of modern and contemporary art to donate will tend to favor it. The government that supports both museums will also have to recalibrate its funds.

The official statement from the National Gallery reveals that the administration’s ambition in the field of contemporary art is aimed at getting “a larger, more diverse public’’ This follows the worldwide trend among traditional institutions. The Gallery also claims to be motivated by the wish “to elevate the visitor experience”. As has been pointed out before, the museums that want it all, such as the Metropolitan Museum, are all but overrun by crowds of visitors, mostly overwhelmed by the quantity of diverse offerings.

The visitor experience is far better at a museum that does not try to do it all. A stellar example is the Wallace Collection in London, which focuses on the fields for which it was founded. Surely the educational benefit of illustrating the influence of an old master on a modern artist can be answered with inter-museum loans without building parallel permanent collections.

Having it all does not necessarily make it better; it just makes it more.