Swiss Museum's New Exhibit: Empty Frames and Lots of Question Marks
In a move that seems poised to redefine "minimalist art," the Kunsthaus Zurich Museum is removing five paintings from its exhibition amid concerns they were looted by Nazis. The artworks in question are illustrious pieces by renowned artists: 'Jardin de Monet à Giverny' by Claude Monet, 'The Old Tower' by Vincent van Gogh, 'Portrait of the Sculptor Louis-Joseph' by Gustave Courbet, 'Georges-Henri Manuel' by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, and 'La route montante' by Paul Gauguin (NYPost). It's quite a lineup, or rather, quite a lineup of now empty wall space.
These paintings are part of the infamous Emil Bührle Collection. Emil Bührle, a German-born arms dealer, amassed his fortune by selling weapons to the Nazis during World War II (CBS News). Seems like a savage game of Monopoly gone rogue, right? Bührle's collection has long attracted controversy, but the latest decision to remove the artworks follows new guidelines for dealing with Nazi-looted art (NYPost).
The guidelines, marking the 25th anniversary of the 1998 Washington Conference Principles on Nazi-Confiscated Art, aim for more ethical curation. Twenty countries, including Switzerland, agreed to these new best practices. Stuart Eizenstat, a significant voice in these discussions, famously noted that the Holocaust wasn't just a genocide but also the "greatest theft of property in history," with up to 600,000 artworks stolen during World War II. Who knew World War II was also an episode of "Antiques Roadshow"?
Adding a bit more drama to this art-world soap opera, a sixth painting, 'La Sultane' by Edouard Manet, is also under scrutiny but remains displayed in the museum (NYPost). The artwork is from the collection of Max Silberberg, a German Jewish industrialist who was coerced by the Nazis into selling his art collection. Tragically, Silberberg is believed to have been murdered at Auschwitz. The foundation that's responsible for the Bührle Collection has expressed a commitment to offering financial contributions to the estate of Silberberg regarding the sale of 'La Sultane.' Think of it as restitution, but likely with less enthusiasm than a payday loan commercial (CBS News).
According to the foundation board for the Emil Bührle Collection, they are committed to seeking fair and equitable solutions with the legal successors of the former owners. This act of contrition coincides with the introduction of the new guidelines to handle Nazi-looted art more transparently and responsibly (CBS News).
The public gesture of taking down these paintings may be seen as a progressive step for the museum. However, one can’t help but wonder if the now blank spaces serve as stark reminders of the murky and often grim history entwined with prized art collections. Or perhaps they’re just ripe for an avant-garde reimagining, though I doubt those empty frames will be fetching Monet-level prices anytime soon.
Yet, the removal is more than just a gallery redesign—it’s a visual acknowledgment that history's dark corners can linger in the most unexpected places. Much like a poorly written plot twist, it's both confounding and eye-opening. The foundation undoubtedly has an arduous journey ahead, navigating the labyrinth of rightful ownership and the shadows of a tumultuous past.
So next time you find yourself at Kunsthaus Zurich, take a moment to ponder those empty frames. Unlike the verbose plaques next to most artworks, these spaces invite questions—questions about history, ethics, and perhaps most pressingly, what exactly is going to fill that void? Because let’s face it, while contemplation is great, it doesn’t exactly boost gift shop sales.
In the end, the Kunsthaus Zurich Museum’s recent actions symbolize a step toward accountability, albeit one that leaves more questions than answers. It invites us all to consider the invisible ink in the storied history of art—a history that’s all too easy to overlook when dazzled by pretty pictures. Until the questions are fully resolved, the echoes of that history will hang as visibly on the walls as any Monet or van Gogh ever did.