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THE GETTY MUSEUM AND THE ZEYT'UN GOSPELS CUSTODY BATTLE
Los Angeles Times
http://www.latimes.com/news/opinion/opinionla/la-ed-getty-20111113,0,6189239.story
Nov 13 2011
In the absence of clear-cut facts, the question is where, ethically
and culturally, eight pages removed from the Armenian masterwork
should reside.
The medieval illuminated manuscript known as the Zeyt'un Gospels was
rumored to hold supernatural powers that would protect the Armenian
people. Whether or not that's the case, the manuscript itself has
eluded destruction. Created by the Armenian illuminator T'oros Roslin
in 1256 for Constantine I, the head of the Armenian Orthodox Church's
Holy See of the Great House of Cilicia, the book passed through
unknown numbers of hands, survived the Armenian genocide and ended
up in a museum of ancient manuscripts in Yerevan. There it sits today.
But it is missing eight pages - folios, really. There's no mystery
about where they are. The J. Paul Getty Museum bought them from an
Armenian American family in Massachusetts for just under $1 million in
1994. They are elaborately painted canon tables, sort of an appendix
to the gospels. One of the pages, so rich with detail that it looks
like a mosaic, hangs on a wall of the Getty in Los Angeles. The others
are in storage.
These are the simplest facts in a legal battle that has pitted the
Getty against the Armenian Apostolic Church of America, acting on
behalf of its mother church overseas. The church claims the eight
pages were stolen by a relative of the sellers some 90 years ago and
that the Getty therefore had no right to buy them. The Getty contends
that it has title free and clear. An L.A. Superior Court judge on Nov.
3 denied the museum's motion to dismiss the claim and ordered both
sides to mediation.
Unfortunately, the two sides can't seem to agree on much. Getty
officials say they were told by the sellers that their relative owned
the book when he fled the tumult that began during World War I and
culminated in the genocide of more than 1 million Armenians. Unable
to carry out the entire book, the man removed eight pages and left
the rest with a Protestant missionary.
Getty staff say the story is supported by a 1943 essay by an art
expert and Armenian church figure who saw the tables and wrote that
the owner had inherited them from his father. He didn't connect them
to the Zeyt'un Gospels, but nine years later, an art historian did.
The pages were later put on display at the Pierpont Morgan Library
in New York. According to Elizabeth Morrison, the Getty's acting
senior curator of manuscripts, the pages were identified in the
exhibition catalog as part of the Zeyt'un Gospels in the Matenadaran,
the museum and archive in Armenia. Despite the published article and
the high-profile exhibit, Getty officials say that for years no one
came forward to question the legitimacy of the family's ownership.
The Getty, rocked by scandal over its possession of antiquities that
other nations claimed had been stolen, gave back 40 pieces of art to
Italy and four to Greece several years ago and instituted one of the
strictest acquisition policies of any museum in the world. Although
the Zeyt'un folios were acquired in the 1990s, Morrison says the level
of due diligence exercised in determining their provenance then would
meet the museum's standards today.
The Armenians beg to differ. The Getty, they say, either knew the
pages were stolen or failed to do the checking necessary to find out.
For instance, Getty officials didn't contact the Matenadaran to see
if the museum questioned the provenance of the pages. ("We do not
routinely check with other institutions when considering acquisitions,
especially when an object has been so widely published," wrote the
Getty's Morrison.)
The Armenians note that these were pages from a manuscript that had
been a treasure of the Armenian church since the 13th century. The
book, they say, was handed off for safekeeping during the genocide,
then rapidly changed hands again and again until it was passed to
the man who removed the pages. They argue, and some experts agree,
that it's unthinkable that Armenian church authorities, even during
a time of turmoil, would have knowingly sold it or given it away.
So where does that leave things? With a murky case of who knew what
when, and little chance of ever learning which version of the facts
is accurate.
It's good that the Getty has instituted tighter rules for determining
the provenance of new acquisitions, but it still needs to address
situations in which the work was acquired before the rules were
tightened. Every acquisition is different, but in this case, we wish
Getty officials had contacted the museum that houses the manuscript
from which the canon tables were extracted to ask if, perhaps, there
was an issue.
On the other hand, it's a little disingenuous for lawyers representing
the Armenian church to argue both that the manuscript is one of its
great historic treasures and, at the same time, that church officials
did not even realize the canon tables were missing until 2006, when
a Los Angeles lawyer discovered that they were at the Getty. That's
a convenient argument that allows the church's claim to fall within
the statute of limitations. Getty officials are rightly skeptical.
That said, this is ultimately a custody case. In the absence of
clear-cut facts, the remaining question is where, ethically and
culturally, these works should reside. On the walls and in the vaults
of a world-renowned, much-visited American museum? Or with the original
manuscript in the region where they were commissioned 755 years ago?
It would be better, in our view, if the pages were reunited with
the book from which all agree they were severed. That's a common
approach to dismembered statues, although it can be more complicated
with manuscripts, if they've been cut apart and scattered. But in this
case, the book is intact in Armenia save for the folios at the Getty.
If the Getty agrees to return the pages, it should at the very
least be permitted to exhibit the entire Zeyt'un Gospels with the
canon tables. It would be a rare opportunity for the museum's huge
visitorship and Southern California's large Armenian community,
and would touch far more people than can visit the Matenadaran. And
that seems an appropriate act of international goodwill and cultural
enrichment.
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress
Los Angeles Times
http://www.latimes.com/news/opinion/opinionla/la-ed-getty-20111113,0,6189239.story
Nov 13 2011
In the absence of clear-cut facts, the question is where, ethically
and culturally, eight pages removed from the Armenian masterwork
should reside.
The medieval illuminated manuscript known as the Zeyt'un Gospels was
rumored to hold supernatural powers that would protect the Armenian
people. Whether or not that's the case, the manuscript itself has
eluded destruction. Created by the Armenian illuminator T'oros Roslin
in 1256 for Constantine I, the head of the Armenian Orthodox Church's
Holy See of the Great House of Cilicia, the book passed through
unknown numbers of hands, survived the Armenian genocide and ended
up in a museum of ancient manuscripts in Yerevan. There it sits today.
But it is missing eight pages - folios, really. There's no mystery
about where they are. The J. Paul Getty Museum bought them from an
Armenian American family in Massachusetts for just under $1 million in
1994. They are elaborately painted canon tables, sort of an appendix
to the gospels. One of the pages, so rich with detail that it looks
like a mosaic, hangs on a wall of the Getty in Los Angeles. The others
are in storage.
These are the simplest facts in a legal battle that has pitted the
Getty against the Armenian Apostolic Church of America, acting on
behalf of its mother church overseas. The church claims the eight
pages were stolen by a relative of the sellers some 90 years ago and
that the Getty therefore had no right to buy them. The Getty contends
that it has title free and clear. An L.A. Superior Court judge on Nov.
3 denied the museum's motion to dismiss the claim and ordered both
sides to mediation.
Unfortunately, the two sides can't seem to agree on much. Getty
officials say they were told by the sellers that their relative owned
the book when he fled the tumult that began during World War I and
culminated in the genocide of more than 1 million Armenians. Unable
to carry out the entire book, the man removed eight pages and left
the rest with a Protestant missionary.
Getty staff say the story is supported by a 1943 essay by an art
expert and Armenian church figure who saw the tables and wrote that
the owner had inherited them from his father. He didn't connect them
to the Zeyt'un Gospels, but nine years later, an art historian did.
The pages were later put on display at the Pierpont Morgan Library
in New York. According to Elizabeth Morrison, the Getty's acting
senior curator of manuscripts, the pages were identified in the
exhibition catalog as part of the Zeyt'un Gospels in the Matenadaran,
the museum and archive in Armenia. Despite the published article and
the high-profile exhibit, Getty officials say that for years no one
came forward to question the legitimacy of the family's ownership.
The Getty, rocked by scandal over its possession of antiquities that
other nations claimed had been stolen, gave back 40 pieces of art to
Italy and four to Greece several years ago and instituted one of the
strictest acquisition policies of any museum in the world. Although
the Zeyt'un folios were acquired in the 1990s, Morrison says the level
of due diligence exercised in determining their provenance then would
meet the museum's standards today.
The Armenians beg to differ. The Getty, they say, either knew the
pages were stolen or failed to do the checking necessary to find out.
For instance, Getty officials didn't contact the Matenadaran to see
if the museum questioned the provenance of the pages. ("We do not
routinely check with other institutions when considering acquisitions,
especially when an object has been so widely published," wrote the
Getty's Morrison.)
The Armenians note that these were pages from a manuscript that had
been a treasure of the Armenian church since the 13th century. The
book, they say, was handed off for safekeeping during the genocide,
then rapidly changed hands again and again until it was passed to
the man who removed the pages. They argue, and some experts agree,
that it's unthinkable that Armenian church authorities, even during
a time of turmoil, would have knowingly sold it or given it away.
So where does that leave things? With a murky case of who knew what
when, and little chance of ever learning which version of the facts
is accurate.
It's good that the Getty has instituted tighter rules for determining
the provenance of new acquisitions, but it still needs to address
situations in which the work was acquired before the rules were
tightened. Every acquisition is different, but in this case, we wish
Getty officials had contacted the museum that houses the manuscript
from which the canon tables were extracted to ask if, perhaps, there
was an issue.
On the other hand, it's a little disingenuous for lawyers representing
the Armenian church to argue both that the manuscript is one of its
great historic treasures and, at the same time, that church officials
did not even realize the canon tables were missing until 2006, when
a Los Angeles lawyer discovered that they were at the Getty. That's
a convenient argument that allows the church's claim to fall within
the statute of limitations. Getty officials are rightly skeptical.
That said, this is ultimately a custody case. In the absence of
clear-cut facts, the remaining question is where, ethically and
culturally, these works should reside. On the walls and in the vaults
of a world-renowned, much-visited American museum? Or with the original
manuscript in the region where they were commissioned 755 years ago?
It would be better, in our view, if the pages were reunited with
the book from which all agree they were severed. That's a common
approach to dismembered statues, although it can be more complicated
with manuscripts, if they've been cut apart and scattered. But in this
case, the book is intact in Armenia save for the folios at the Getty.
If the Getty agrees to return the pages, it should at the very
least be permitted to exhibit the entire Zeyt'un Gospels with the
canon tables. It would be a rare opportunity for the museum's huge
visitorship and Southern California's large Armenian community,
and would touch far more people than can visit the Matenadaran. And
that seems an appropriate act of international goodwill and cultural
enrichment.
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress