Wednesday, January 31, 2024

The Patriot Thief

 The Patriot Thief

The Louvre is a massive complex of art treasures that requires weeks to explore and years to appreciate.  It was initially a fortress before being transformed into a palace.  Following the French Revolution, it became a museum.  For years, Maria Elena and I have talked of visiting Paris for the sole

The View from Our Paris Room

reason of exploring this sprawling institution and taking in its artistic gems.  We dreamt of going during off-season when the tourist count would be low.  We were naive to think that Paris ever experienced even a slight pause.  The Ville-Lumière (City of Light) was still crowded in late October when we finally visited.  Neither rain nor the fact that by this time of year students would be back in school seemed to dent the number of people in the city and the fraction of those who visit the museum every day.  But I’m getting a little ahead here.

We’d been in Calitri for some time before our “vacation within a vacation” began.  It could have happened much earlier as part of our arrival in Europe or waited until our return flight to the USA.  We’d done this before.  Back then, we would lay over at a stop.  For instance, on a stopover in London to switch aircraft, we spent a few days there before continuing

Bangers & Mash

to the States.  After “bangers & mash,” a visit to the luxurious Harrods department store, and watching the guards change over at Buckingham Palace, we continued our return flight.  Apparently, times have changed.  On our latest trip, we sought a similar layover in Paris, either during our arrival or departure.  We explored that possibility with two airlines.  Neither was successful.  In the case of Air France, a layover in Paris terminated our flight.  For instance, our reservation, Naples to Paris and then on to the US, would end if we hesitated in Paris.  To continue the flight home would require two one-way tickets at approximately $1,000 each.  Double ouch and out of the question.  Clearly, I’d retired from the wrong ‘flight provider’, the US Air Force, not a commercial airline.

One of the reasons we had a ‘pied-à-terre’ in Italy was to use it, primarily in retirement.  In my travel essay, “The Italian Chronicles of a Rogue Tourist”, I put it this way: [1]

“Should we buy our own tiny piece of Italy and immerse ourselves in the culture, the language, and its people or should we continue to wander the country continually visiting new places - there would always be new venues to explore. One road read ‘come this way’ the other, equally appealing, like a hawker in front of a restaurant, beckoned that we proceed down that avenue. … Instead, our idea of an Italian home was a small, affordable place we could use in retirement for a few months at a time, and before that, as often as we could get there. … even more sobering, why tie ourselves down and have to always restrict our Italian adventures to medieval Calitri? “

Falling back on a military expression, it had the advantages of a “forward operating base.”  Being already in Europe, Calitri serves as a springboard not only to other parts of Italy but also to the entire

French Onion Soup


continent.  Short hops between countries on low-cost airlines were affordable.  In a eureka moment, it was Maria Elena's quick thinking, recalling our reasoning from twenty years earlier, that resolved our stop-over dilemma.  Instead of a costly stop-over while enroute to or from the US, “Let’s lock the door after we are there a while and visit somewhere new.”

Our Parisian jaunt began when I drove our Fiat, Bianca, to Naples, parked her at the Navy Base adjacent to the Capodichino Airport, and boarded an EasyJet flight to Charles de Gaulle Airport.  A short two and a half hours later, we arrived.  The number of tourists thronging the terminal confirmed it was definitely not off-season.  Over the days that followed, before we located the Louvre’s glass pyramid, we enjoyed bowls of French onion soup and visited interesting restaurants like the legendary literary Les Deux Magots café for pastry and their renowned hot chocolate.  A visit to the iconic Shakespeare and Company bookstore served as a 

Our Magot Petit Dejeuner

whipped cream
 topping to our Paris fling. 

But there was more.  Yes, I love those testosterone-fueled classics like Top Gun (either one), The Gladiator, et al., but the right side of the brain, thought to be the home of the non-conscious mind also holds sway.  That’s the part that is associated with creativity, emotion, and intuition.  It may help explain why I enjoy books and creative writing.  The influence of my brain’s right hemisphere is why we sought out the nearby church of Saint-Etienne-du-Mont.  It is not a major tourist attraction by a long shot, but more on the spectrum of a social media phenomenon.  In the Woody Allen film Midnight in Paris, the main character Gil (Owen Wilson) sits on the side steps of this church

nightly in hopes of a magic car ride into the past among literary and artistic giants.  In addition to historical magnets like the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, and the Louvre, the steps have become an unofficial ‘in-place” to visit while in Paris.  It was our turn to sit on the steps in tribute to the movie.  We sat there, but it being well before midnight, no one picked us up.  Later, just across the narrow, cobbled street separating the church from a corner tavern, we sat by a window and watched as another couple scratched it from their bucket list.

By this point, some of you may wonder if I have gone rogue like Tom Cruise in one of his Mission Impossible franchise movies.  Have I become a Francophile?  Not really.  In the British Museum, we sought

out Roman Britain and the Rosetta Stone.  In Bruges’ Church of Our Lady, it was the allure of Michelangelo’s Madonna of Bruges that attracted us.  At the Louvre the object of our obsession was the famed portrait of the Mona Lisa. 

Our strategy to avoid the crowds was a private evening tour.  Evening hours are called “nocturnes.”  Our rendezvous point was in front of the fashionable brasserie Le Nemours Café, where, while waiting, we were amused by the wait staff over who alleged to have worked there the longest.  By 6:30 pm six of us, all Americans, had rendezvoused for the tour.  We crossed the street and entered through the Porte de Richelieu.  It was immediately evident, as one of the largest, most popular museums in the world, the Louvre is also one of the busiest, even by night.

Shortly after entering, we found ourselves in the Louvre's Carrousel du Louvre shopping mall, dominated by an inverted pyramid that serves as a skylight pointing to the floor made famous by The Da Vinci Code bestseller movie.  In the lower level of the Sully Wing, on our way to the museum’s best-known works of art, we walked by the original medieval foundations of the Louvre, rising like castle battlements.  In the hours that followed, we made our way through a labyrinth of various subjects listening to the wealth of knowledge our guide had to share.  All along, our information chaperone, Maria, elaborated on Greek statues ranging from the goddess Aphrodite, known as Venus de Milo, to the Hellenistic era goddess Nike of Samothrace, we know as Winged Victory.  In this maze

Original Louvre Castle Foundation


of halls and stairs, we also saw Egyptian artifacts and were dazzled by bling collections that rivaled the British Crown Jewels
.  

Our tour culminated in the Grande Galerie devoted to Italian paintings, for us, the anticipated highlight of our tour.  The walls were hung with a horde of stunning paintings, including Italian Renaissance masterpieces by Caravaggio, Raphael, and Botticelli, along with works by Leonardo da Vinci, including The Virgin of the Rocks, and Saint John the Baptist.  It was in a side room, the Salle des États, the Louvre’s largest room, about the size of a basketball court, that we were introduced to 24-year-old Lisa Gherardini, wife of Francesco del Giocondo.  We know her as Madam Lisa,

Winged Victory

truncated further to Mona Lisa, one of the most emblematic portraits in the history of art.  This is hard to believe since it was never completed by its creator, Leonardo da Vinci.  Begun in 1503 on a board of poplar, Da Vinci was still working on her in 1517.  Never completed to his satisfaction, he carried it with him, continuing to work on it, a stroke here or there, only parting with her on his death in 1519.

Fortunately, the room was not crowded.  We could only imagine the press of the daytime crowd when, as we learned, lines extended outside the hall along the side of the Grande Galerie.  From what Maria related, you could pass outstanding and not fall to the floor.  Being the only portrait on the wall positioned at the far end of the room creates the impression that the Mona Lisa is tiny.  This is not an illusion but a fact.  Positioned behind physical barriers and protected inside a temperature and humidity-controlled glass case, Mona’s portrait, a scant 30 by 21 inches, is petite.  We were close enough to see the gossamer-

A Real Smiler

like veil-like veil shrouding her head, confirm her mysterious lack of eyebrows, but not so close as to confirm that one pupil is larger than the other.  Related to her eyes, there is the perception associated with da Vinci called the ‘Mona Lisa Effect’.  This optical illusion refers to the sensation that the eyes of a portrait follow you around the room.  Go where you may, and the feeling persists.  The fact is, Mona does not look at you when standing directly in front of her.  Ironically, the Mona Lisa, for which the sensation is named, is absent the Mona Lisa Effect.[2]  Instead, she consistently stares over a viewer's right shoulder, beginning to generate a smile. 

The painting’s appeal lies in its technical excellence, that wisp of a smile, the background landscape’s mix of science and fantasy, and the sfumato blurring technique that envelops the figure in a hazy mist.  Her smile suggests that she has caught sight of something and hints that she is turning toward it.  Was Leonardo so prescient in his strokes that he anticipated her popularity?  Might her head be turning toward the millions of gaping visitors who call on her annually?  Is its fame due exclusively to

We Learn A Startling Story

its masterful technique or to some underlying fact beyond artistry or its famed creator? 

For many years, this diminutive portrait occupied a spot within a cluster of other Italian paintings.  What could account for its current explosion in popularity, enough to dominate an entire room in the Louvre?  Our guide asked and answered this question with the startling revelation that while much of the Louvre is filled with stolen art acquired as a result of Napoleon’s global plunder, the Mona Lisa is the most famous of those few paintings ever stolen from the Louvre.  Maria and history relate that for a time, Mona was actually the victim of, let’s call it, a kidnapping.

Paris held its breath when the “kidnapping” occurred in Aug 1911.  Crowds gathered at the gates of the Louvre — some left flowers, some were angry, and others were simply shocked.  When it reopened, thousands gathered to view an empty space on the wall occupied by four iron pegs.  Her fame spread internationally.  A worldwide alert was issued, searches were performed, suspects interrogated, and rewards offered but nothing materialized. 

Mona Discovered Missing

The ensuing fiasco of an investigation continued for over two years as other world events, like the sinking of the Titanic, captured center stage.

All this time, Mona Lisa lay resting in a firewood storage closet in the apartment of the perpetrator, Vincenzo Peruggia.  That Vincenzo (Enzo) did the deed is a certainty but why he did it, his motive, remains elusive to this day.  What drove him to steal the Mona Lisa, though hinted at, was unclear although a subculture of theories soon arose.  Beyond an obvious monetary motive, other potential explanations range from revenge, jealousy, fame, psychological issues, and acts of passion.  Some can merge with others and shift with time and circumstances. 

The Patriot Thief

Only Enzo knew for sure what drove him to act.

Vincenzo was born in the northern Italian town of Dumenza, positioned between Lakes Como and Maggiore, coincidently only nine miles from the origin of my Italian roots.  As was common at the time, he left Italy seeking work in Paris.  There, he labored as a handyman, house painter, and later as a Louvre Museum worker for a glass company under contract to the Louvre.  Employment with this firm afforded him easy access to the museum.

It was on a Monday when the under-secured Louvre was closed for cleaning and repairs with few workers or guards around, that the theft occurred. [4]  Wearing his workmen’s white smock, he entered the Louvre, proceeded to the Italian gallery, and took the painting.  He chose the Mona Lisa because of its convenient size, especially with its frame removed.  He had no idea of its value (today estimated at 860 million dollars) which impugns the theory that his actions were motivated by money.[5]  After all, he was a glass cutter and could have easily accessed jewels far simpler to conceal and later ‘fence,’ as those in that trade put it.  Instead, he went to the Italian gallery.  He walked out carrying the Mona Lisa under his arm wrapped in his smock.  While the clueless police investigated and searched, Enzo and the painting remained quiet until his arrest in December 1913.

His arrest and the Mona Lisa’s recovery occurred in Florence, Italy.  He’d traveled there to see a dealer in antiquities with connections to the Uffizi Museum.  To this point, Enzo only spoke of repatriating Mona.  When the dealer asked him how much he was asking, he said 500, at which point the dealer finished his sentence, saying, “500,000 Lira?” Enzo replied in the affirmative.  Is this where 

Recovered Mona Lisa in the Uffizi

the money motive originated?  Had Enzo even imagined such a monumental figure then equivalent to $100,000?  In any case, the dealer took the painting to the Uffizi, where it was examined.  When the painting was determined to be authentic, Enzo was shocked when, as opposed to being rewarded, he was immediately arrested. 

    A legal tug-of-war trial ensued.  While the prosecution saw it as a clear-cut case, based on a demand for 500,000 Lira, his defense crafted a patriotic motive cloaked in sympathy.  In Paris, Italians were looked down upon.  Along with this anti-Italian sentiment, Enzo had experienced continued verbal abuse.  Acceptance and respect were fleeting, if not impossible to obtain.  Taunted, called a ‘dirty Italian,’ and addressed as ‘macaroni’ rather than by his given name, he was offended by the insults and grew to hate France.  This demeaning treatment was further fueled by the prevalent belief that Italy would join with Germany if war erupted between France and Germany.  Because of these slights, revenge over his treatment in the form of a patriotic act kicked in.  He’d show his oppressors who ‘macaroni’ was.  His troubled mind believed that his act against the French, by taking the painting and returning it to its homeland and rightful owners, would see him honored with fame, glory, and reward.  Revenge and hate had merged with patriotism and the appeal of recognition.

Unfortunately for Vincenzo, his repatriation argument was specious.  Unaware of the Mona Lisa’s history, he instead relied on gossip from his Parisian-Italian neighborhood where the popular belief was that the Louvre’s Italian collection originated from Napoleon’s looting of Italy.  Truth be told, the Mona Lisa, while Italian in origin, was not part of the Napoleonic plunder.  Following Leonardo’s death in 1519, his assistant and heir, Gian Giacomo Caprotti da Oreno, inherited the painting and subsequently sold it to Francois I, the King of France.[6]  Mona Lisa was, therefore, rightfully French property.  Evidently, he’d chosen the wrong painting to make his point. 

Enzo’s defense bolstered his patriotic decision to liberate the Mona Lisa on weak judgment based on “intellectual deficiency.”  Enzo had been diagnosed as suffering from lead poisoning following years of work as a painter.  Whether outright theater or in evidence of this flaw, his behavior in court was eccentric with emotional outbursts, rage, court interruptions, and arguments with the judge, his lawyer, and prosecutors.  Nevertheless, Vincenzo was found guilty and sentenced to one year and fifteen days.[4]  This rather lenient sentence may have been due to his arrest in Italy, not France, and a reflection of the amount of sympathy he’d garnered among Italians who loved him, in this, his moment of fame.  Such sentiment was reinforced by his release in seven months and eight days.  To many Italians, he was a hero.  Italians rushed to the Uffizi to see Mona; Thirty thousand who couldn’t get in, rioted.  Many Italians sent him love letters, cakes, and bottles of wine while he was in jail.  In a way, some degree of notoriety had arrived.

Days after his release, World War I erupted.  Vincenzo served in the Italian army, which had allied itself with France, not Germany.  Unlucky at crime and now at war, he was captured by the Austrians.[4]  This time, as a POW, his ‘indefinite sentence’ lasted two years until the end of the war. With his release, he returned to Paris seeking work, accompanied by his wife.  He’d been banned from France, and his wife feared for his safety, especially when he brought her to the Louvre to see the Mona Lisa.  Their daughter would later recount his inflated words seeking to reassure his wife, “The shingles on this roof will rot, but my name will remain famous.[7] But fame and its trappings eluded him.  Nothing happened that day and throughout the rest of his life in Paris, which ended on his 44th birthday in 1925. Today, not a street is named for him.  Besides living on the Internet, Enzo’s only lasting fame may amount to a plaque outside Room 20 at Hotel La Gioconda that he and Mona occupied those last few nights before their separation.[7]

The theft of the Mona Lisa made her world-famous, transforming her into a global celebrity, but not Vincenzo.  Might this account for the beginning of that smile, never quite broadening, because she knows the truth concerning her fame?  Her celebrated history was fascinating before her abduction but was eclipsed by her kidnapping.  Conforming to herd mentality, people like Maria Elena and me today flock to see her without an inkling about the true source of her fame, all thanks to Vincenzo Peruggia.  He may have believed he was famous, but no one flocked to his grave, for the period of time he had one.  You see, after 30 years, his remains were removed from his burial plot and deposited in the communal ‘bone locker’ mixing with those of others.[4]

As a young man, alone in a foreign country, looked down upon, and harassed, Vincenzo Peruggia decided to ‘liberate’ the Mona Lisa.  Precisely why, to what end, and how to accomplish this end, he hadn’t fully thought through.  Like Enzo, many of us have been impetuous and taken brash actions.  In our world, we respect those who take decisive action, praise the ambitious, pin medals on heroes, and give trophies to champions.  So long as the majority approve of the act and they succeed, someone who might otherwise be classified a ‘terrorist’ is exalted as a ‘freedom fighter.’  However you measure it, Vincenzo’s actions were a crime regardless of a fantasy for fame, misguided zeal, the longing of a patriot, or some heroic delusion couched in a sfumato-like blurred understanding of the consequences.  Even with the heft of a mitigating thumb on the scale of justice, when heroic patriot or thief was measured, for Enzo, it still tipped to thief.

 From That Rogue Tourist,

Paolo

 

[1] The Italian-Chronicles of A Rogue-Tourist, Paul Monico, 2015, https://www.amazon.com/Italian-Chronicles-Rogue-Tourist-Discovering/dp/0979623391/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1V6F0HFKN7AH6&keywords=the+italian+chronicles+of+a+Rogue+Tourist&qid=1704657535&s=books&sprefix=the+italian+chronicles+of+a+rogue+tourist%2Cstripbooks%2C79&sr=1-1

[2] Mona Lisa Effect Not True for Mona Lisa, Scientific American, 2019, https://www.scientificamerican.com/podcast/episode/mona-lisa-effect-not-true-for-mona-lisa/#:~:text=The%20Mona%20Lisa%20effect%20is,Christopher%20Intagliata%20reports.

[3] Napoleon’s Stolen Masterpieces: The Plunder that Formed the Louvre, https://www.irishtimes.com/culture/art-and-design/napoleon-s-stolen-masterpieces-the-plunder-that-formed-the-louvre-1.4589616

[4] Vincenzo Peruggia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vincenzo_Peruggia

[5] What are the Most Expensive Paintings in the World (2023), https://www.free-power-point-templates.com/articles/most-expensive-paintings-in-the-world/#:~:text=So%2C%20how%20much%20is%20the,price%20is%20approximately%20%24860%20Million.

[6] How Did the ‘Mona Lisa’ End up in France?, https://becomingitalianwordbyword.typepad.com/monalisabook/2016/03/how-did-the-mona-lisa-end-up-in-france.html

[7] Additional Information from the 2013 Documentary by Joe Medeiros, Mona Lisa is Missing – The Man Who Stole the Masterpiece