The Forger's Spell - Edward Dolnick [100]
Six Vermeers in all, and each one sold at prices that ranged between $2.5 million and $8 million in today’s dollars. Six paintings in six years, moreover, with barely a question asked, even though only thirty-odd Vermeers had turned up over the course of the previous three centuries.
The sudden appearance of half a dozen masterpieces might have set the art world shouting for the police. But Van Meegeren’s luck held again. When Emmaus came along, the experts pointed out that this new Vermeer didn’t look like any of his other paintings. They rejected the obvious possibility—perhaps it’s not a Vermeer—and concluded instead that Vermeer had more to him than they had ever suspected. Now came a cascade of paintings by an artist famous for his tiny output. Did that raise any doubts?
Remarkably, it didn’t. Again, Emmaus was the key, and again it was that painting’s difference from other Vermeers that beguiled the experts. Vermeer had ventured down a new path, they explained, and he had emerged with Emmaus, a treasure. In the experts’ eyes, the conclusion was self-evident—it stood to reason he would have explored the same territory further, in search of similar rewards. Each new biblical “Vermeer” that came along served not to raise new doubts among the learned but to confirm their expectations.
IN SELLING THESE follow-up forgeries, Van Meegeren stuck with the strategy that had rewarded him so lavishly with Emmaus. Immediately after he sold Emmaus, and perhaps before he realized that Vermeer was a vein he had only begun to tap, Van Meegeren turned out a couple of so-so De Hoochs. No great shakes, these forgeries would have quickly been forgotten if not for Van Meegeren’s later notoriety. The prices weren’t up to Vermeer standards, but this was easy money even so. For the two De Hoochs, Van Meegeren pocketed a total of what today would be another $3 million.
Many of the familiar figures from the Emmaus drama turned up once again as the new forgeries came on the market, like actors in a sequel. Bredius, for instance, published an article in the art magazine Oud Holland, in 1939, called “A Gorgeous Pieter de Hoogh.”* He began in his usual rush: “What appeared impossible has in fact happened. A work by Pieter de Hoogh, which had hung for many years in a private home in Paris, has surfaced! It appears to be one of his most beautiful works, from his best year, 1658, and is modestly signed PDH.”
The echoes of the Emmaus story cannot be missed. “In 1658 De Hoogh painted the famous pieces now in the National Gallery and Buckingham Palace,” Bredius wrote. “I have no doubt: were one to choose, this painting would win. Let us hope that this work of art will not leave our country. Fortunately we do possess several beautiful De Hooghs, but we lack a piece like this one.”
The Rotterdam tycoons Van der Vorm and Van Beuningen showed up again, too, still competing for old masters. Back and forth they went, snatching up each new forgery as if they would never have such an opportunity again. Van der Vorm had struck first, in 1937, by putting up the lion’s share of the money for Emmaus. In 1939, it was Van Beuningen’s turn; he bought a Van Meegeren “De Hooch” for $1.7 million in today’s dollars. In 1941, Van der Vorm countered by buying the “gorgeous” De Hooch forgery that Bredius had praised, for $1.3 million. Then the rival collectors turned back to “Vermeers,” taking turns again while prices soared ever upward.
By the time they put their wallets away, Rotterdam