The Forger's Spell - Edward Dolnick [85]
Then, after a brief description of the painting, this summary: “Dr. A. Bredius remains in doubt, given the situation, that this painting can be ascribed to Vermeer.”
The story now takes an even odder twist. Kronig sent off his letter questioning Boon and Emmaus on July 1, 1937. Two months later, on August 30, 1937, Boon wrote a long handwritten letter to Bredius. He told a fanciful story of where Emmaus had been all these years—this account differed a bit, for reasons no one has ever explained, from Van Meegeren’s tale of a Dutch heiress named Mavroeke—and, strangest of all, he wrote as if Bredius had never laid eyes on the painting!
“Dear sir,” Boon wrote to Bredius,
As the executor of the property of a family living abroad, whose father, deceased some 25 years ago, was Dutch, I found in a back room a painting of great beauty, though one which the family had never paid much attention to. All they knew was that the father had bought it some 40 or 50 years before, somewhere in the [southwest of Holland]. The longer I looked at it, the more convinced I became that this was the work of one of the greatest old Dutch masters. This was also the judgment of one of my friends, who—though a layman—has studied 17th-century art carefully, and whom I therefore brought with me to ask his opinion. I of course know full well that these opinions of ours are without any value. That is why I immediately decided to ask the opinion of the greatest connoisseur in this area, that is, Dr. Bredius. And as I was going to spend my vacation in St. Jean Cap Ferrat, near Monaco, six weeks later—as I do every year—I thought I would wait until then. I have the picture with me, and my question is if you would be willing to receive me. After that, I could leave the picture with you for a few days so that you can examine it. I hope that you will not find my request too immodest and that you will tell me when you can receive me.
Within days of receiving this letter, Bredius trumpeted to the world the news of his magnificent discovery. Both in published articles and in private letters, he told and retold the story of this monumental, career-topping find. From the moment he first saw the painting, he declared, he had recognized it as the greatest Vermeer of all.
That claim directly contradicts Kronig’s account in his July 1 letter. What happened between Boon’s two visits to Monaco? Why did Bredius “distrust” Emmaus in July and praise it extravagantly in September? And if Boon showed Emmaus to Bredius at the beginning of the summer, why did he write eight weeks later as if no such meeting had ever taken place?
Boon and Bredius kept diaries, which could have untangled the mystery, but both diaries seem to have disappeared. We can devise stories that account for the facts, but we have too few facts and too much leeway, like ancient sky-watchers who picked out a handful of stars and conjured up the image of a hunter. In a different mood, they might have seen a swan.
Perhaps the simplest scenario is this: When Boon showed up in Monaco in June, Kronig sized him up as a pest and sent him off with a white lie about how Bredius was unavailable. Later Kronig panicked—had he overreached?—and sent a letter to The Hague asking if Boon was legitimate. When he quickly received an emphatic “yes” in reply, he encouraged Boon to pay another visit. The reason that Boon and Bredius referred to their second meeting as if it were the first, in this scenario, would be that it was in fact their first encounter.
But Albert Blankert, the Dutch art historian, believes that events played out quite differently. Bredius did meet with Boon in June, Blankert suggests, but could not decide if Emmaus was legitimate. Wary of making a fool of himself after his last blunder with