THE PHOTOGRAPH AS A DOCUMENT

Medici's differentiation between a document and a photograph is representative of the traditional understanding, in the archives and records management field, of the term document as textual and paper-based. Michael K. Buckland, a noted scholar in the field of information sciences, explains that the notion of what constitutes a document has expanded with the introduction of technologies and a growing acceptance that printed words are not the only ways in which evidence can be conveyed.Footnote ⁷ He cites the work of Suzanne Briet, the French writer and librarian, who equated documents with physical evidence and who notably argued that an antelope in a zoo may be viewed as a document, as it becomes an information source that individuals can observe and study.Footnote ⁸ In the Digital Age, Buckland underscores the necessity to move beyond the traditional view of document to include information that is intangible, existing only as “a string of bits.”Footnote ⁹ This article supports Buckland's assertion that “there seems no reason not to extend the use of ‘text’ and ‘document’ to include images” and adheres to the contemporary understanding of document as an information source with evidentiary value.Footnote ¹⁰

What information can be derived from a photograph that text alone cannot offer? Photographs have assumed a societal role as sources of identity information. Most all adults possess a form of identification that carries their photographic likeness. In American-issued passports, for example, photographs were required as of 1914, with the passport photograph “considered to produce a ‘truthful’ image that could be used to reliably link a person to a passport and thus accurately establish an individual's identity.”Footnote ¹¹ In a similar way, photographs may be viewed as “identity” documents for cultural heritage objects, thus facilitating the protection, location, and recovery of these materials.

A reliance on photographs as identity documents for cultural materials is, however, not without its shortcomings. In an article for International and Comparative Law Quarterly, Catherine Phuong addresses the difficulty that individuals who are untrained in fine art may have in determining whether an object in hand matches the photographic image. In considering the case of antiquities looted from Iraq, Phuong maintains that it would be “virtually impossible” for a nonspecialist, such as a customs officer, to identify a cylindrical seal that comes into his possession by comparing it to the nearly identical two thousand images of cylindrical seals once included in INTERPOL's database.Footnote ¹² Still, a photograph is likely to provide guidance to an individual who lacks an understanding of a period or style of art and who may be unfamiliar with terminology or characteristics included in a written description.

Moreover, while this article maintains that photographs have distinct functions as sources of evidence for the cultural heritage field, it is necessary to consider how the unique nature of images influences the evidentiary value of these documents. Joan M. Schwartz, who has contributed to the scholarship on photographic archives and the history of photography, explains that the literature up until the late twentieth century primarily emphasized the objective truth of photographs, a predominant belief that stemmed from “its mechanical origins, and its capacity for exact reproducibility.”Footnote ¹³ With the first documented legal uses of photographs in the 1850s, these documents were early seen as having an evidential role in the courts. Henry Fox Talbot, the British photographer and inventor, explicitly addressed the potential weight that a photograph may have in legal proceedings pertaining to ownership of an object, an issue that is at the center of this article.Footnote ¹⁴ Susan Sontag, in her noted collection of essays entitled On Photography, echoes the idea that photography has evidential weight: “Photographs furnish evidence. Something we hear about, but doubt, seems proven when we're shown a photograph of it.”Footnote ¹⁵ But seems proven, of course, is quite different from is proven, and this distinction has consequences for the notion of the photograph as evidence.

How truthful is a photograph and how much trust should be extended to the evidence derived from a photograph? Schwartz addresses the malleable nature of photography as a medium: “Optical precision, of course, is not a guarantee of documentary neutrality. The photograph is neither truth nor reality, but a representation willed into existence for a purpose and mediated by the persons concurring in its formation.”Footnote ¹⁶ In determining the composition of his or her subject, the photographer chooses what information will be included in and omitted from the image. In this sense, a photograph is not an objective document but rather the photographer's deliberate interpretation of a scene, object, or individual. The photograph's context, and not only its content, becomes central in teasing evidence from the document. While this article looks to case studies involving film photography, the advent and prevalence of digital photography amplifies these issues of trustworthiness and the manipulatable qualities of the medium.

The subjectivity of a photograph also renders the image as interpretable for the viewers. What one individual sees may differ from another. The essayist John Berger, author of the celebrated work Ways of Seeing, writes, “All photographs are ambiguous…. In the relation between a photograph and words, the photograph begs for an interpretation.”Footnote ¹⁷ Because of the reality that there may be multiple interpretations associated with a photograph, it is unsurprising that Medici and his legal team objected to weight that the court placed on the photographic evidence.

Are there limitations in the value of photographs in determining whether an object was stolen or looted and in supporting ownership claims? The importance of photographs in identifying works has been touted by UNESCO and has been demonstrated by those organizations that provide illustrations of stolen or looted objects in databases and publications. This article argues that photographs are tools—tools that possess identity information and tools that have evidentiary value. Just as is the case with any kind of evidence, however, it is subject to scrutiny both content and context, consequently, must be considered.

PROTECTION AND IDENTIFICATION THROUGH PHOTOGRAPHY

The UNESCO Convention on the Means of Prohibiting and Preventing the Illicit Import, Export and Transfer of Ownership of Cultural Property 1970 (hereinafter, “1970 UNESCO Convention”) emerged in response to the growing concerns about the destruction of archaeological sites and the alarming persistence of the illicit trade in cultural property, an international crime that is often said to only be exceeded in monetary value by the narcotics and arms trades.Footnote ¹⁸ Signifying the international community's growing recognition of the need to protect cultural heritage, the 1970 UNESCO Convention was the first significant international treaty to recognize “looting-for-profit as a global problem” and not simply an issue that arises during times of conflict.Footnote ¹⁹ With 120 States Parties, the 1970 UNESCO Convention calls for countries to respect the cultural heritage of other states, but also actively care for their own cultural heritage through the implementation of protective measures.Footnote ²⁰

The link between photography and protection of cultural heritage is apparent in both the 1970 UNESCO Convention and cultural heritage literature. In 1997, UNESCO published a comprehensive handbook to guide states in their efforts to develop national programs and practices for protecting their own cultural heritage. Protection, authors Pernille Askerud and Etienne Clément argue, is directly related to documentation, including documentation through photography. They write, “Failure to identify objects conclusively is, indeed, one of the major obstacles in the protection of cultural property. Without photographs and detailed descriptions, it is almost impossible for police to recover such objects.”Footnote ²¹ Frederic J. Truslow, writing on measures in Peru to safeguard churches and museums, echoes the critical role that photographs play. He maintains, “Photographs are, of course, an essential part of any protection regime because they make it possible to identify and prove prior ownership of a stolen work.”Footnote ²² UNESCO sees it as not only advisable, but also the responsibility of states to take active measures to document objects of cultural heritage, particularly through photography. Askerud and Clément cite Article 5 of the 1970 UNESCO Convention, which calls upon governments that are Party to the Convention to establish and maintain a “national inventory of protected property, a list of important public and private cultural property whose export would constitute an appreciable impoverishment of the national heritage.”Footnote ²³ The authors impart that these inventories should, if they are to be effective in providing protection and leading to identification, include photographs as part of the record.Footnote ²⁴ Askerud and Clément stress that photography as a protective measure is “vital for identifying cultural or natural objects that have been stolen (and possibly illicitly exported or lost).”Footnote ²⁵

There is evidence that some States Parties have attempted to adopt projects that are in accordance to Article 5; Canada, for example, established the National Inventory Programme (now called the Canadian Heritage Information Network, or CHIN) in 1972, and it is today a publically accessible database.Footnote ²⁶ Additionally, a 2003 UNESCO document that reviews States Parties' self-reported efforts to implement the 1970 UNESCO Convention makes reference to inventory initiatives in Argentina, Colombia, Croatia, Cyprus, and other countries.Footnote ²⁷ But while national inventories may indeed be valuable means for protection, there are challenges associated with the creation of these photographic inventories. Shortly after the introduction of the UNESCO Convention, John B. Gordon commented on the feasibility of Article 5, noting that “the main disadvantage of an inventory is the immensity of the task of compiling it.”Footnote ²⁸ Such an effort, he explained, would be both expensive and prolonged and, consequently, not possible for all States Parties to fulfill. Truslow speaks to the challenges associated with creating inventories in Peru, explaining that those that exist are primarily paper-based inventories and do not exist as one centralized and comprehensive resource. Moreover, Truslow explains, “Public resources are scarce, and other priorities, including poverty and terrorism, more pressing. The heads of relevant agencies change frequently. Government, church, and private organizations change frequently.”Footnote ²⁹ Although Truslow is speaking to the experience of creating a national inventory in Peru, it is not difficult to imagine that the conditions that he highlights as deterrents to the process would exist in other countries affected by cultural heritage looting.

While UNESCO suggests that states should aspire to generate national inventories that are accessible to players who are involved in combating the illicit trade in cultural heritage, it appears that commercial and organizational databases publicizing looted, at-risk, and stolen cultural materials are perhaps more widely referenced by individuals and institutions in the art market to identify the provenance of an object. The former International Foundation for Art Research (IFAR) archive, originally a physical collection of records related to stolen art and later an image database of stolen art listings, was active from 1977 to 1991, at which time IFAR joined with London investors to develop the Art Loss Register.Footnote ³⁰ Today, the Art Loss Register is a commercial image database of stolen cultural materials, meaning that it includes objects that Malaro characterizes as “documented.”Footnote ³¹ The Art Loss Register indicates that individuals or institutions who have been victims of a theft must be able demonstrate “the ability to register the item in such a way that it is uniquely identifiable, so that a future match can be made without contention” and states that “good quality images” should be provided.Footnote ³² The illustrated database has gained traction since its inception. In a 1995 article, Constance Lowenthal, then executive director of IFAR, indicated that museums were making it a practice to consult the Art Loss Register in the years immediately following its creation, referencing both the J. Paul Getty Museum and the Metropolitan Museum of Art.Footnote ³³

In addition to the availability of a commercial database like the Art Loss Register, electronic resources maintained by organizations such as the International Council of Museums (ICOM), the International Criminal Police Organization (INTERPOL), and the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) depend upon the use of photographs in disseminating information about looted and stolen works. ICOM's Red Lists Database is notable in that it is a tool that can help locate materials that would otherwise be characterized as “undocumented,” objects that do not have a recorded history because they were illegally excavated and exported from a source country. Rather than providing information about known stolen works, as is the case with the Art Loss Register, ICOM identifies “endangered categories of archaeological objects or works of art in the most vulnerable areas of the world.”Footnote ³⁴ Red Lists have been created for Afghanistan and Iraq, countries in which war has threatened the security of their cultural heritage, and regions that have been historically affected by looting and the illicit trade in cultural property, such as Central and Latin America. Photographs are prominently included in these online records as representative images of objects that are particularly at risk of looting.Footnote ³⁵

INTERPOL and the FBI have initiatives in place in which photography is employed as an aid for the identification of stolen works. INTERPOL, an intergovernmental agency composed of 190 member countries, traces its contributions to combating the illicit trade in cultural property to 1947.Footnote ^36, Footnote ³⁷ When a theft occurs, UNESCO encourages national governments to submit a photograph and accompanying description of the stolen object to INTERPOL. In turn, INTERPOL disseminates this information through a database that includes images and descriptions of approximately 38,000 stolen works of art. Law enforcement agencies and members of the public who complete an application for use can access the full database, and the wider public is able to view images of recently stolen works and recovered works. Additionally, INTERPOL uses photography in its biannual publication of a “Most Wanted” poster, depicting six objects that the agency is currently attempting to locate.Footnote ³⁸

In the United States, the FBI administers the National Stolen Art File (NSAF), a computerized and searchable database of stolen cultural property. Like INTERPOL's resource, the NSAF is compiled through information submitted by law enforcement agencies, but it differs in that its focus is on works that have been stolen in the United States.Footnote ³⁹ The information available includes, whenever possible, a photograph of the work to accompany the description that is provided by police agencies.Footnote ⁴⁰ In December 2010, the FBI reported that images of 7000 stolen works were available through the NSAF, although additional information would be valuable in considering whether there are any differences in recovery rates for objects with and without accompanying photographs.Footnote ⁴¹

The ICOM, INTERPOL, and the FBI resources are united in that they are among the organizations that use the Object ID standard, a project launched by the Getty in 1997 and, since 2004, has been managed by ICOM.Footnote ⁴² Developed through a collaboration among representatives from the cultural field, the art market, and police and customs agencies, Object ID is intended to serve as an international standard for the consistent description of cultural property.Footnote ⁴³ As Robin Thornes explains, Object ID contributes to combating the illicit trade in cultural property “by encouraging the making of descriptions of objects in both private and public ownership, and by bringing together organizations that can encourage its implementation, as well as those that will play a part in developing networks along with this information can circulate.”Footnote ⁴⁴ In creating Object ID and determining the categories of information to include, the Getty surveyed and interviewed representatives from six communities: cultural heritage organizations, law enforcement groups, customs agencies, art dealers; appraisers, and insurance agencies. The respondents agreed that it was essential to include a photograph as part of the Object ID standard, with percentages ranging from 96% of representatives in law enforcement to 83% of representatives in cultural heritage organizations indicating that an image is fundamentally important for identification.Footnote ⁴⁵ Thornes, a consultant for the Object ID project, writes that “when it comes to identifying objects, a photograph is said to be worth a thousand words” by the players involved in the development of the standard.Footnote ⁴⁶

In addition to the included photograph, Object ID has put forth a checklist of descriptive information that should be recorded, including the object's measurements, materials, and distinguishing characteristics.Footnote ⁴⁷ The creators of the Object ID stipulate that “all record photographs” should also indicate size, which can be achieved by photographing the object next to a scale in which unit and length of measurement is visible. Moreover, whenever possible, the object should be photographed with a color reference card so that when an image is duplicated and, if needed, passed on to other parties, the color reference card will encourage greater accuracy in the copy.Footnote ⁴⁸

How widely used is the Object ID standard? Although organizations like UNESCO, ICOM, INTERPOL, and the FBI encourage its implementation internationally, Mark Durney explains that it can be difficult for many national governments to employ. Just as Gordon questioned how feasible it is for many states to create national inventories as stipulated by Article 5 of the 1970 UNESCO Convention, Durney explains, “Unfortunately, the fact that many resource-poor nations cannot afford to develop and maintain such databases has inhibited Object ID's greater application.”Footnote ⁴⁹ Anayat Durrani, in an entry on the web site Fine Art Registry, reports that ICOM has been challenged in its efforts to obtain data that speaks to the effectiveness of the standard.Footnote ⁵⁰

The function of each of the initiatives is to inform the international community, through description and illustration, of the need to protect at-risk cultural heritage and the need to locate and recover looted and stolen cultural heritage. The introduction of Object ID reflected the mindset that standardization is important for effective protection and identification. However, should a stolen or looted object enter the market, photographic identification through one of these resources might best be seen as a spark for action and inquiry. In speaking specifically of the ICOM Red Lists, Vernon Rapley of the British Metropolitan Police's Art and Antiques Unit (AAU) says that the AAU is unable to confiscate an object because it bears similarities to a photograph included in the Red List. The “onus,” Rapley explains, still falls to the AAU to prove through additional documentation that the object entered the market illicitly since the enactment date of domestic legislation protecting cultural heritage.Footnote ⁵¹ Still, the illustrated resources can be the impetus for an investigation, a valuable lead that may provide enough probable cause to initiate an investigation and to support repatriation.

PHOTOGRAPHY AND RECOVERY

The uses highlighted above employ photographs as tools, assisting states in documenting their heritage as a protective measure and facilitating identification of stolen or looted materials. But photographs can assume a second role when they are presented as evidence to support an ownership claim or to question the provenance of an object. Such can occur in cases involving both documented and undocumented objects. If a “documented” painting, for example, is stolen from a museum and surfaces on the market, photographs may serve as evidence in recovery efforts. Regarding Nazi-era loot, Lawrence M. Kaye notes that ownership claims may be supported by documents that range from original insurance policies to, when available, “photographs identifying the art in the original owner's home.”Footnote ⁵²

In the case of undocumented materials, it is still possible that there may be photographs connected to the objects, as not all objects that would be characterized as undocumented are hidden from view beneath the earth. Looted cultural objects from a visible heritage site or historic structure may be linked to its original location if photographic evidence exists. Roger Atwood, in his Stealing History: Tomb Raiders, Smugglers, and the Looting of the Ancient World, provides insight to this point. He observes, “It is riskier to buy and sell pieces hacked off standing monuments because there will be records and photographs of what those pieces looked like and where they stood…. Antiquities pulled from the ground, however, have no such records, no catalogue numbers or schematic drawings, and so it is that much more difficult to detect them as they move through the market and, if seized, to prove that they were plundered.”Footnote ⁵³ He describes one case study in which photographic evidence led to the repatriation of an object in this category of visible “undocumented” objects. When presented with a UNESCO book of photographs of looted items from Angkor Wat, chief curator of South and Southeast Asian Art Martin Lerner recognized an image of a stone head in situ, or in its find-site, as an object in the Met's collection. Lerner was compelled to initiate the return of the stone head to the Cambodian government. Atwood characterizes the photograph as “the kind of irrefutable proof that exists in only the rarest cases.”Footnote ⁵⁴ Andrew Slayman recounts another case in which photographic evidence was used to locate the place of origin for antiquities. In 1997, curator John L. Hermann Jr. of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, recognized the capitals of two marble columns in a Christie's catalog and identified them as having been in the ruins of a Christian basilica in Rome. Hermann, who had taken photographs of the structure and its columns while conducting research for his dissertation in the 1960s, sent his images to the director of the antiquities department at Christie's who agreed that they matched the items in the auction. The capitals were removed from the sale, seized by U.S. Customs, and repatriated to Italy.Footnote ^55, Footnote ⁵⁶

Although more rare, there have been cases in which photographs have been used to demonstrate that objects have been illegally excavated from the earth. Perhaps the most notable case study of photography as evidence in cases involving undocumented cultural property and repatriation is that of Giacomo Medici and his aforementioned Polaroids of antiquities. In Chasing Aphrodite: The Hunt for Looted Antiquities at the World's Richest Museum, David Felch and Ralph Frammolino indicate that the Italian authorities saw the Polaroids as “proof”—proof of Medici's role in the illicit antiquities trade and proof of the illegal nature of the excavations through which Medici's antiquities were acquired.Footnote ⁵⁷ With 30 albums of Polaroids discovered, along with 15 envelopes of developed film and 12 envelopes of rolls of film, the pool of evidence seized by law enforcement was a rich and substantial one.Footnote ⁵⁸ These photographs served two purposes for the Italian authorities, acting as evidence to support Medici's role in the illicit trade and to support Italian ownership of materials in museum collections.

Maurizio Pellegrini, a document and photograph analyst who assisted Italian investigators in building a case against Medici, categorized the content of the seized photographs. The first category consisted of images of antiquities “as they had left the ground … in pieces, in fragments, with soil and other encrustations adhered to them.”Footnote ⁵⁹ In a second grouping of photographs, the antiquities were depicted in stages of repair, with the excavated fragments reassembled and the dirt removed. Finally, Pellegrini observed that the photographs included captured images of the objects in acquisition catalogs and, even, a small group of images in which Medici posed alongside the restored objects, now on exhibit in museum galleries.Footnote ⁶⁰ Watson and Todeschini describe the collection of Polaroids as a “photographic paper trail” that illuminated the underground path that the antiquities took from the earth to museum galleries and incriminated Medici.Footnote ⁶¹ The dealer was ultimately found guilty of smuggling and trafficking in antiquities in 2005, following a yearlong trial that focused largely on the documentation discovered in the Swiss warehouse, both textual and photographic.Footnote ⁶²

The very fact that Medici's photographs were Polaroids acted as evidence that supported Italy's case against Medici and the country's ownership of the objects represented in the images. In 1939, the Italian government passed the Law of June 1, 1939, Regarding the Protection of Objects of Artistic and Historic Interest, a piece of legislation that gives the Italian government ownership of all antiquities within the state. Under this law, if an individual found an antiquity, even if it was discovered on his or her private property, the individual would be required to inform the government of the find. It would be illegal for the individual to attempt to sell the object or export it from the country.Footnote ⁶³ Polaroid film, Watson and Todeschini explain, was not invented until 1948, nearly 10 years after the passage of Italy's patrimony law. The particular model of camera used, the SX-70, did not enter the market in the United States and Europe until the 1970s. The act of taking a Polaroid, which is self-developing, may suggest that the excavations were conducted clandestinely, with those involved wanting to avoid a third-party developer. Moreover, while professional archaeologists do take photographs of excavations, this documentation is done very differently. It is purposeful; archaeologists photograph an excavated object in its original context, illustrating the size through the use of a measuring tool and indicating the date of the find. The Medici Polaroids did not exhibit these professional standards.Footnote ⁶⁴

Again, these photographs served two purposes for the Italian investigators: They helped to build the prosecution's case against Medici and were used by the Italian investigative team in a type of matching game, in which researchers linked the illegally excavated objects to the collections of a number of the world's most significant museums. Medici, in some instances, provided evidence that made this second task simple for the researchers. There were, as mentioned, Polaroids in the collection in which Medici is seen posing with an object on exhibit in a museum gallery. He had also developed a coding system for his photographic collection, marking some of the images, for example, with “PGM,” for the Paul Getty Museum.Footnote ⁶⁵ The investigation ultimately placed Medici's antiquities in notable museum collections in the United States, Europe, and Asia.

The investigation that linked Medici's Polaroids to objects in museum collections brought about repatriation negotiations between the Italian government and museums that included the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, and the J. Paul Getty Museum. In February 2006, Philippe de Montebello signed an accord with the Italian Ministry of Culture in what has been described as a “watershed moment for American museums.”Footnote ⁶⁶ In doing so, the Metropolitan Museum of Art agreed to return the famed Euphronios Krater, a 16-piece set of silver, and four archaeological objects to Italy in exchange for long-term Italian loans said to be of equivalent importance and beauty.Footnote ⁶⁷ In spite of the years of circulating rumors about the origin of the krater and Medici's involvement with its sale, it was the 1995 raid on the Swiss warehouse that produced the evidence needed to strengthen the Italian government's claims of ownership of the krater and the other objects returned as part of the February 2006 agreement. The photograph that linked the dealer to the krater was one of a proud Medici posing with the krater on exhibit at the Met.Footnote ⁶⁸

The leadership at the Metropolitan Museum of Art was reluctant to accept the photographs that connected Medici to the krater and other items in the collection as significant enough to support Italy's ownership claims. Prior to entering into an agreement with Italy, de Montebello had maintained that he would not entertain the idea of returning any objects to Italy unless he was given “incontrovertible evidence” that the items originated in Italy, a statement that suggests that he did not perceive photographs as irrefutable proof of Italy's rightful ownership.Footnote ⁶⁹ Italian representatives responded by arguing that it was nearly impossible to provide forensic proof to support an ownership claim.Footnote ⁷⁰ De Montebello ultimately accepted that his standard of evidence was not viable, reportedly remarking, “I am not a lawyer … and the word ‘incontrovertible’ that I used … it has been brought to my attention that even in murder cases it is not used.”Footnote ⁷¹ He revised his stance with the acknowledgment that the photographic evidence and other documentation introduced revealed a “substantial or highly probable” likelihood that the repatriated antiquities included in the agreement had been looted from Italy.Footnote ⁷²

Although the Met initially evaded coming to an agreement with the Italian government, the negotiations between Italy and the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, are notable in that it was the institution that initiated the discussions surrounding the return of objects in its collection. In September 2006, the Museum of Fine Arts signed an agreement with the Italian government that arranged for the repatriation of 13 antiquities. Although director Malcolm Rogers said the objects were acquired in “good faith,” evidence emerged suggesting that the items, among them a second-century statue of Emperor Hadrian's wife Sabina, were of questionable provenance.Footnote ⁷³ While the dealer who had sold the statue to the Museum of Fine Arts had provided records that suggested that the statue Sabina had been in “an aristocratic family collection in Bavaria,” multiple images of the dirt-encrusted piece were among those captured on Polaroid film and in the seized Medici collection of photographs.Footnote ⁷⁴ The photographs were seen as sufficient evidence to support repatriation.

The Getty's association with Giacomo Medici is one that has received much attention from the media, given the high-profile trial of Marion True, the former Getty antiquities curator who was indicted by an Italian court in April 2005 for trafficking in looted antiquities.Footnote ⁷⁵ In developing a case against True, the Italian Carbinieri produced photographic evidence discovered in Medici's warehouse that linked acquisitions carried out by the curator to the convicted dealer, evidence that investigators described as “nothing short of an antiquities ‘smoking gun.’”Footnote ⁷⁶ Once seen as a leader in promoting ethical collecting practices in museums, the Polaroids had a devastating impact on True's reputation, connecting her to what Christine L. Green describes as Giacomo Medici's “skullduggery.”Footnote ⁷⁷ The New York Times reported that among the evidence presented by Italian prosecutors in True's trial was a “striking” pair of photographs. The first image was that of “two dirt-encrusted fragments of a terra-cotta figure,” which the Italian prosecutors maintained was taken after the fragments were excavated from the earth; it was noted that signs of smoke damage were visible on the fragments. The second was an image of the same terra-cotta figure, bearing the same signs of smoke damage, but intact and now part of the J. Paul Getty Museum collection.Footnote ⁷⁸

Although the Italian court dismissed True without a verdict in October 2010, following the expiration of the statute of limitations on her charges, Medici's Polaroids did have a decided effect on the Getty and its antiquities collection.Footnote ⁷⁹ In the summer of 2007, eight months after the investigators first presented the Getty with a series of images of antiquities from the seized Medici photographs as evidence to support Italy's ownership of objects in the Getty's collection, Italian Minister of Culture Francesco Rutelli and Getty Director Michael Brand announced an agreement between the two parties.Footnote ⁸⁰ As part of this agreement, 40 objects would ultimately be returned to the Italian government, including a pair of marble griffins, dating to the fourth century bce and described by New York Times writer Elisabetta Povoledo as “one of the glories of the Getty's collection.”Footnote ⁸¹

Given the size of Medici's Polaroid collection and Italy's persistence in recovering cultural materials, it is unsurprising that reports continue to surface in the press today about more institutions with holdings that are connected to the photographs. In 2005, David Gill and Christopher Chippendale estimated that there were “thousands of antiquities now residing in public and private collections still to be identified from the seized Polaroids.”Footnote ⁸² As recently as the summer and fall of 2010, a potential connection was made between the Medici photographic archive and objects in the collection of Madrid's National Archaeological Museum, as well as antiquities that were slated to be sold at Bonhams in London.Footnote ⁸³ Gill and Chippendale also raise the possibility that the Polaroids will serve as evidence for ownership claims by the Greek government and continue to lead to agreements between institutions and the source countries looted by Medici.Footnote ⁸⁴

THE PHOTOGRAPH AS EVIDENCE

In an appeal submitted to the Italian court in July 2005, Medici's legal team expressed disapproval over the judge's determination that the Polaroids of antiquities implicated the dealer in their illicit excavation and sale. They wrote, “The possession of photographs does not necessarily imply the possession of the object.”Footnote ⁸⁵ Medici echoed this sentiment to archaeologist and author Vernon Silver by presenting a photograph of himself with an Etruscan chariot in the Metropolitan Museum of Art's collection, a piece that had been excavated in the nineteenth century. Consequently, Medici argued that the court should not be able to treat the photographs in which he is posed with antiquities in museum galleries as evidence that he was involved in their smuggling.Footnote ⁸⁶ The Italian investigators were very conscious of the fact that an isolated photograph of Medici with an object in a museum “didn't constitute proof of anything,” as Medici's legal team also asserted in his appeal. Still, as Watson and Todeschini note, “Taken in context, however, alongside all the other photographs … it was extremely revealing, and damning” evidence.Footnote ⁸⁷

Watson and Todeschini's observation reflects a concept that is at the very center of the archival view of the document. An understanding of a document comes with an understanding of the document's context—the document's creator, the circumstances and time of its creation, and its relationship with other documents. In the case of a photograph as document, Schwartz offers insight, explaining that the photograph's “‘true nature’ cannot be discerned from the content of the photograph alone. Its evidential value … only becomes clear when the image is returned to its broader context of production, purpose, and use.”Footnote ⁸⁸ In the case of Medici's criminal charges, one photograph may be limited in its evidentiary value, but meaning and evidence emerge when many photographs are studied as a collection and when linkages among the photographs and acquisition catalogs, among other elements, are considered, as well as the nature of their production as Polaroids and the photographs' connection to seized textual records.

Medici's conviction likely advanced and bolstered Italian efforts to claim ownership of antiquities in museum collections. In presenting the images to museum administers as evidence to support repatriation, the Italians could point to more than the content of the photographs alone. The judge's verdict allowed the Italians to compellingly emphasize a contextual aspect of the photographs—their connection to Medici, a man who was found guilty of trafficking in looted antiquities and whose antiquities found their way to the museum's collection. Moreover, the Metropolitan Museum of Art's willingness to enter into a repatriation agreement with the Italians legitimized the country's argument that the Polaroids have evidentiary value as provenance records, thus paving the way for agreements with the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, and the J. Paul Getty Museum.