The impact of the Internet & the antiquities market: Just how easy is it to blur lines? Part II of II

Christy Wong
MA Student, University of Pavia

Editors’ Note: The following is a continuation of Wong’s previous article (TEA 77) addressing the impact of the internet on antiquities dealing.

Part I introduced three areas of the online antiquities trade: social media, online shopping sites, and auction houses, representing key threats amplified by the internet. This instalment will discuss the online antiquities market in relation to auction houses, particularly in relation to the ways in which they set a precedent for sites like Catawiki (and, by extension, Facebook and eBay). Then, we will turn to two recent world events – the COVID pandemic and Russia’s war on Ukraine – to highlight further ways the internet bolsters the antiquities trade, even in times of chaos.

Art & Antiquities Auction Houses: Christie’s & Timeline Auctions – Platform responsibility and realities of the market

Platform responsibility is crucial to address if there is to be hope for real cultural heritage protection, and examining auction houses, (i.e., institutions that have existed since the start of the trade) helps shed light on the issue. Founded in 1766, Christie’s is one of the world’s largest auction houses, and is a slightly different entity than those described previously. Not only has its existence pre-dated the internet, but it exists solely for the dealership of art and artefacts. Since its founding, Christie’s and its compatriots have enjoyed their claim to a long tradition and history that has garnered them prestige, trust, and a seemingly official status. Christie’s website has a page on ‘Cultural Stewardship’ that boasts of their intolerance of looted objects and a guarantee of “due diligence” that ensures the legality of all their items, as they consider themselves “custodians of art” who have a “duty to carefully research the art and objects we handle and sell” (Christie’s n.d.).

However, the infamous 1990s Medici case shattered the “glittering myth of auction house propriety” (Brodie 2014, 64), and more began to see the problematic history. Although Medici and Becchina’s stolen artefacts were mainly peddled through Sotheby’s, Italian authorities used the evidence seized as an opportunity to launch more investigations against other major US museums and galleries and reclaim more stolen relics (Brodie 2014, 64). Christie’s was unsurprisingly caught auctioning illicit objects on countless occasions—for instance, in 2009, a Corinthian column krater sourced by Medici and two ceramic vessels and a Roman marble Janiform Herm that passed through the hands of Becchina were seized by Italian authorities off their June and December sale catalogue (Brodie 2014, 64-65).

Auction houses are often considered passive commercial institutions, which only by misfortune come across illicit objects; yet this is far from the truth. Not only do auction houses refuse to do the bare minimum, but occasionally, they actively work against the protection of cultural heritage. First, there seems to be a consensus among scholars that the dismissive attitude of auction houses towards published provenance is a major reason for the constant trouble. In an investigative article by Tsirogiannis (a forensic archaeologist who is one of the few academic professionals to actively researches the illicit antiquities trade,) he examined the provenance provided by Christie’s on four items that appeared to be stolen but were still offered for sale in 2015 (Tsirogiannis, 2015). Tsirogiannis’ analysis of the fourth item, in particular, a lekythos (lot 93), revealed that Christie’s actively excluded important details of provenance. “Christie’s conveniently records the 1986 and 1997 stages of the lekythos’ collecting history, but not its more recent past, involving the authorities’ raid on Horiuchi’s warehouse in Switzerland and the subsequent ownership of the vase by the convicted Aboutaam brothers” (Tsirogiannis 2015, 37). This shows that Christie’s has the time and means to check an item’s history but to keep up appearances, they consciously omit information and disregard ethics guidelines.

Secondly, beyond their dismissive attitudes, auction houses tend towards secrecy and safeguarding involved parties. Journalist Peter Watson, the author of the pivotal book, The Medici Conspiracy, investigated the activities of Giacomo Medici, shedding light on the inner workings of auction houses, as well. Contrary to the idea of passive institutions, Watson uncovered that these auction houses actively pursued business opportunities and clients. However, this incessant pursuit sometimes inadvertently exposed the illicit provenance of objects, as in the case of an alabaster vessel that had been stolen from a 1979 excavation at Dashur. In 2006, Christie’s brought it to the attention of the curator of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, who just so happened to be the excavator of the find (Brodie 2014, 66). Nevertheless, in the end, Christie’s withheld the consignor's identity, aligning with the conclusion of the RAND study that the art and antiquities community cultivated a culture of secrecy, actively concealing the identity of its participants (Sargent et al. 2020, 8). This was not the first nor last time Christie’s chose not to disclose the truth, and the unfortunate reality is that Christie’s is not the only house to do this.

In November 2022, London’s TimeLine Auctions began online bids for thousands of artefacts from around the world (Farooq 2022). An antiquities researcher, Abdullah Mohsen, posted on Facebook that several items that were to be auctioned looked to be from Yemen. Though he did not know the exact origin of the items, he said it was unclear whether the auction house was itself aware of the provenance. French archaeologist, Jeremie Shiettecatte, also commented that, while he could not confirm if the objects were stolen, he does believe they resemble artefacts that had been stolen from Yemen. When the auction house was contacted for comment, there was no response (Farooq 2022).

TimeLine Auctions, an antique dealer established in 1859, is not as large, well-known, or as old as Christie’s. However, it seems the story is the same. Like in previous examples, TimeLine Auctions claim to have an “unmatched network of collectors, dealers, agents and experts to offer some of the largest collections of ancient art,” and that “each lot in our auction has been expertly researched, catalogued, and professionally photographed, supported by TimeLine’s customer satisfaction guarantee… We are proud to draw on the expertise of our consultants and specialists, respected and recognised experts in their fields, to provide our customers with the highest level of service and trust” (TimeLine Auctions | An Introduction, n.d.). But in the fine print of their terms and conditions, they blatantly admit, “TimeLine does not make or give any guarantee, warranty or representation or undertake any duty of care in relation to the description, illustrations, or photographs of any Lot, including condition, quality, provenance, authenticity, background, style, period, age, origin, value and estimated selling price. TimeLine undertakes no obligation to examine, investigate or carry out any tests either in sufficient depth or at all to establish the accuracy or otherwise of any description or opinions given by TimeLine whether in the catalogue or elsewhere.” (TimeLine Auctions | Terms & Conditions, n.d.). Their conflicting and audacious words are enough to reveal that they care more about profit than about customer trust and satisfaction, much less about protecting cultural heritage.

In May 2016, TimeLine conducted several online auctions featuring many small, unprovenanced items from Iraq, Syria and neighbouring countries. The specific details about where they were found were not given. Thus, they were bought and sold on the basis of having no proof of theft or illegal trade. Out of the 399 lots that were offered, almost half were sold, and the house earned nearly $50,000. As archaeologist Neil Brodie states, “no matter what the geographical and chronological origins of the objects offered, the sale shows that there is a clear financial incentive to trade in small, low-value objects” (Brodie 2017, 30). TimeLine Auction exemplifies the profit-orient reality of the market that is often at the expense of ethics.

Modern scenarios: A reflection

The last few years have only shown that the antiquities trade can thrive, especially amid tumultuous times. To look at COVID first, the pandemic prompted a surge in online sales for auction houses, with nearly 74% of all auctions conducted online in just the first half of 2020, up from 23% in the same period in 2019 (Bourron 2021, 4). While in-person auctions were once the bread and butter of prominent auction houses, going online was a lifesaver for many institutions (Bourron 2021, 13), enabling them to stay open. Unfortunately, it also enabled the perpetuation of their indifference to illegal activities (which, in 2020, saw an overall rise in many regions, INTERPOL 2021, 14). According to Katie Paul (co-director of the ATHAR Project), researchers saw an escalation in the number of Facebook posts related to trading looted objects from the Middle East and North Africa (Sharpe 2020). Some posts even had pictures of looters actively excavating, aimed at proving the authenticity of their plundered goods to potential buyers (Sharpe 2020). Paul attributes this rise to various factors, also stating: “…global access to the internet has increased; and archaeological sites and museums are more vulnerable during times of crisis and looters recognise this; and the sale of illicit artefacts provides a much-needed revenue stream for those who have lost their jobs as a result of the pandemic, including workers who normally depend on the tourist industry” (Paul quoted Sharpe 2020).

Russia’s assault on Ukraine has also brought severe threats to cultural heritage (see Shydlovskyi et al. 2022 TEA 74). Many key UNESCO sites, like Pechersk Lavra and Saint Sophia Cathedral in the heavily targeted Kyiv, have been threatened; several cultural institutions have already been greatly damaged or destroyed, such as the Kharkiv Art Museum; and as the war continues, more sites face peril (Pasikowska-Schnass 2022, 2-3). Adding to the threats, the war has also opened a new door for looters. Reports by the United Nations Interregional Crime and Justice Research Institute, indicate a surge in illicit trafficking of all kinds in the last year; with stolen artefacts transported from occupied Ukrainian cities to Russia or smuggled through Moldova (INTERPOL 2021, 30). There are also reports of a gang with possible pro-Russian affiliations, specialising in targeting and trafficking valuable Ukrainian historical artefacts back to Russia (Thorpe 2022).

Listings on platforms like Violity starkly illustrate the direness of the situation. For instance, a listing in January 2023 featured a bronze vessel found in Ukraine. See Figure 1. The photos posted were clearly taken right after the vessel was dug up; with one even showing a metal detector in the background. The quality and haste embodied by the pictures show how efficient these looters operate: they find, photograph, post, and simply wait for a buyer. Astoundingly, it only took eight days for this vessel to be sold.


Figure 1. One of the images posted by the seller of a freshly dug vessel with a metal detector in the background.

Opportunists can capitalise on a preoccupied world. Unfortunately, due to the internet, the antiquities trade is able to operate at (or even beyond) capacity during times of crisis. Without such a powerful tool that connects looters to sellers to buyers, the rate at which objects are currently circulated would not be possible.

Conclusion

Addressing the problems in the antiquities trade requires the recognition of inherent faults in the system and the necessity of reform and change. While numerous legislations have been introduced, their effectiveness hinges on individual countries' willingness to ratify and enforce them. Notably, countries with significant roles in cultural heritage trafficking (like the UK or Switzerland) show reluctance to adopt such sanctions. Nevertheless, even if all governments ratify these laws and codes, as they stand now, many do not address private individuals or companies on this issue. Their language echoes the sentiment found throughout the whole community: one which relies too heavily on goodwill rather than being legally binding or pushes responsibility onto individuals to do things to “the best of their ability”. This approach arguably mirrors that of online platforms, which shift the burden of responsibility onto users.

The impact of the internet on the antiquities trade is just one facet of a broader problem. Legalities aside, there is an urgent need for a deeper ethical discourse surrounding the trade (Tsirogiannis 2021, 166). There has been a glaring absence of long-term research and dedicated educational programs on this topic within academic institutions, resulting in a cascading effect: academics and experts lack critical knowledge, which prevents authorities from fully understanding the problem and effectively combating it.

The internet has drastically democratised the buying and selling of artefacts (illicit or otherwise), no matter the state of the world. But perhaps the focus should not be on the ease of these transactions, but rather on the ease with which individuals evade accountability and continue perpetuating unethical behaviour. Whether it is social media, an online shopping site or an auction house, every facet of the system is not without fault. No matter the platform, there is a clear pattern in attitude and behaviour: feigned ignorance, turning a blind eye to potential problems and the avoidance of accountability. While the line dividing the antiquities market from the black market has always been thin, in the digital age, it has blurred to near invisibility.

References

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