North Toward Home—To Stay; a guest blog by Reba White Williams

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Full disclosure: I read and enthusiastically blurbed Reba White Williams' debut novel, Restrike. I enjoyed the spunky, stand-up-for-themselves heroines, the behind-the-scenes view of the New York art world, and the small cultural touchstones of Southerners living up north. As someone with strong Alabama roots living in New England, I can well identify with that. So, as a matter of fact, can Reba...

 

            In 1967, Willie Morris, an admired Southern writer, published North Toward Home, a memoir of his Mississippi childhood, his Texas college days, and his move to New York.

            I was attracted by his title, which told my story, too. I was a Southern child, and I had come “North toward home” to New York. But I suffered none of the worries that tortured Willie, torn between Mississippi and New York, troubled about losing his Southerness, and about turning his back on his past. He saw himself as an exile, “alienated from Mississippi, but forever drawn back to it,” and was unhappy in the city he called the “Cave.”

            Why did he come to New York? He wrote: “We had always come, the most ambitious of us, because we had to, because the ineluctable pull of the cultural capital, when the wanderlust was high, was too compelling to resist.” He sounded as if he came against his will. He seemed to see the City through dark and dismal glasses, criticizing everything about New York, including the people. I resolved to adopt his title, ignore his misery, and to embrace New York with the love and appreciation it deserved.

            I had left North Carolina with only $500, under a cloud of family disapproval. I took a train to New York, but with no money to spare for a reserved seat, I was crammed into a crowded ladies’ room, sitting with four women sipping moonshine from mayonnaise jars. I was offered a swig, but declined, not because I feared germs, but because the ride was rough and I feared I’d be sick. Despite my discomfort, I was so excited, I felt as if I were flying.

          

  In New York, I shared an apartment at 601 Cathedral Parkway with a friend who was studying at Columbia, two of her classmates, a large collie, a small diapered monkey, and a pigeon with one wing. Did I dislike my new home? I wasn’t wild about the monkey, but even he was part of the adventure. My roommates introduced me to subways, bakeries, Broadway, Chinese food, pizzerias, the automat, and a Murphy bed.  

            I saw New York City through rose-tinted glasses. I embraced all that they showed me and much more. I loved everything, especially the fast pace, and the fascinating people. I worked at three part-time jobs to pay my share of the rent, and didn’t complain. I mastered the subway, and used it to explore the city. I attended most of the Broadway shows alone, and standing at the back of the theatre.

            Mocked and teased about my Southern drawl, I was unfazed. I kept my Southern accent, and resolved to transport aspects of the South I loved to New York, notably flowers and food. My garden features Magnolia Grandiflora trees, crepe myrtles, mimosa and honeysuckle.

            I serve homemade ice cream made from ripe peaches from the Carolinas to neighbors in the summertime. While Willie wondered, while eating black-eyed peas on New Year’s Day in Harlem, “where else could a Southern white boy have such a meal?” I and any number of other Southerners were eating that New Year’s meal every year.

            I found another apartment, and got a great job as a researcher at McKinsey. My life was all I’d dreamed about. The touches of the South I brought north added a subtle touch of spice to the flavor of a favorite recipe.

            I give my books a touch of Southern flavor: Coleman and Dinah Greene, the protagonists of Restrike, are from North Carolina, but live and work in New York. They and some of their friends speak with Southern accents or phrases. Dinah often prepares Southern dishes. They remain influenced by their Southern past, but they are true New Yorkers. They, like me, have come North toward home.

 You can find out more about Reba, read her essays, and find out where to meet her in person (hint: tomorrow night, at Longfellow books in Portland, with yours truly) at her web site.

True Crime Tuesday--Vanishing Treasures

HANK: Anthony Amore is a character right out of a suspense thiller. And yet, he's real. He's a world class expert of art security and art theft. He's a lead investigator on the Isabella Stewart Gardner thefts--that's the missing Rembrandt "Storm on the Sea of Galilee" to the left--and more scoop on that below.

(You have to admit, now that they've caught the notorious Whitey Bulger, the Gardner heist is the biggest unsolved mystery in Boston. And there's a reward of five miliion dolalrs for info that leads to the return of the thirteen stolen works of art!)

Anthony Amore will be at Crime Bake--and the inside stuff he knows is quite amazing. For instance--ask him how the bad guys carry a huge paintings out of a museum. His answer will suprise you.

But today...True Crime Tuesday...he takes us inside the world of art theft.

ANTHONY AMORE: Less than a month ago, two valuable paintings—one a portrait of two smiling boys by Frans Hal and the other a landscape by Jacob van Ruysdael—were stolen from a museum in Leerdam in The Netherlands. Amazingly, this crime, in which the thieves made off with a haul valued in the millions of US dollars, received barely a mention in North America. In fact, I had to use an online translation program in order to read about the theft in English. It’s safe to assume that this is at least partly due to the fact that the public is unaware of the enormity of the problem of crimes against art.

HANK: Tell us more! So this goes on all the time? What are some of the most famous cases?

Anthony Amore: Art theft happens much more than one may think. The trafficking of illicit art is a multi-billion dollar “industry” and includes everything from stolen paintings to Egyptian artifacts to rare items from our nation’s history. It ranges from thefts of antique family heirlooms taken from private homes to thefts from internationally known museums, such as the infamous 1990 theft of 13 priceless items from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston. That art crime, still unsolved, ranks as the largest property theft in recorded history.

HANK: You investigated that Isabella Stewart Gardner theft. Below is a stolen Degas. Do you think you'll ever discover who did it?

Anthony Amore: Unfortunately, crimes against important cultural property still happen every day. Despite the best efforts of law enforcement and INTERPOL, Europe is a hotbed for stolen art and antiquities. This is true in around the world, and the United States is no different. Art theft is so prevalent in America that in 2004 the Federal Bureau of Investigation formed an Art Crime Team to investigate such losses. However, here in the United States, little emphasis is put on the recovery of lost art at the state and local levels of law enforcement.

The good news is that, at least when it comes to stolen masterpieces, the recovery rate is fairly good. That’s because highly recognizable art is very difficult to move. Thieves who see enormous dollar values often commit crimes of opportunity. But as retired FBI agent Robert Wittman has noted, the true art of art theft is in the moving of the goods, not the heist itself. So, while the bad guys usually prevail when it comes to lesser known works, there is hope for better known items. This is just one of the reasons that I am hopeful for a recovery of the stolen Gardner art.

HANK: How do they get away with it? And do the bad guys usually prevail?

Anthony Amore: Over the past year, investigative reporter Tom Mashberg and I teamed up to examine the problem of art theft by researching all of the thefts of paintings by the great master Rembrandt van Rijn throughout the last century. The result of this research is the basis for our book Stealing Rembrandts: The Untold Stories of Notorious Art Heists .

Stealing Rembrandts makes three things abundantly clear: 1) art is not stolen by swashbuckling, debonair thieves on behalf of nefarious billionaires. It is stolen by common crooks, often as a crime of opportunity; 2) stealing high-value art by well-known artists is a fool’s errand because such works are nearly impossible to sell; and 3) prevention against the theft of our priceless cultural treasures, not just the recovery of stolen art, is vitally important. Despite these truths, art remains an attractive target for criminals who are romanced by astronomical values attributed to master works.

HANK: Why did you pick Rembrandt thefts? Is he the most-stolen artist ever?

Anthony Amore: We chose Rembrandt for several reasons. Chief among them was the fact that in my work pursuing the stolen Gardner Rembrandts, I spent considerable time examining how other theft of the great master took place. In seeking out as much information on art crime as I could, I was surprised to see just how often works by Rembrandt have been stolen. Thus, the topic of our book was born. Tom Mashberg, himself no stranger to the pursuit of stolen art, brought his talents for investigative journalism to the project, and we created what we feel is a book that will help the cause of art security for decades to come.

History has proven that, once stolen, thieves have very little success monetizing their booty. Like many of us, they believe the version of life they see on the Hollywood screen, which is based entirely on fantasy, not reality. So, despite the folly of it all, criminals will likely always target art. And that means we have to remain vigilant in our efforts to protect it. An essential part of that is knowing who the culprits are, and who they are not.

One of the more entertaining parts of the book Tom and I wrote deals with the genesis of the myth of “Dr. No.” We examine the origins of the public’s fallacious yet widespread belief that stolen masterpieces now hang on the walls of some master crime figure’s underground lair, there for him to enjoy alone with his brandy snifter. In fact, an investigator is far more likely to find a stolen masterpiece wrapped in a blanket in a storage facility, attic, or basement than he is to find it in a mansion hanging by a fireplace. This is the reality of art theft, and it’s nothing like it is on the big screen.

Hopefully, in some measure, Stealing Rembrandts will smash that myth, helping law enforcement to better identify art thieves and fences, while also showing art collectors (including museums and galleries) who it is they must defend themselves against.

Until art is better protected, and the enemy more clearly understood, our cultural treasures will continue to fall victim to thieves with little regard for history, beauty, or the best achievements of their fellow man.

HANK: SO interesting, huh? Questions for Anthony? Or--what's your favorite painting? A signed copy of Stealing Rembrandts to one lucky commenter!

Anthony Amore is an art security expert and the co-author, with Tom Mashberg, of Stealing Rembrandts: The Untold Stories of Notorious Art Heists, published by Palgrave MacMillan. He can be reached at anthonyamore@hotmail.com