SOUTH AFRICA has experienced several notable art scandals over the years, including the dire state of the Johannesburg Art Gallery (JAG) and the possible theft of valuable artworks, which recently made headlines again. Unfortunately, only a handful of people care about it, which is why some of these colourful stories read like good thrillers due to the absurd nature of the crimes in a country where we have bigger fish to fry.
These range from Salvador Dalí's Aphrodisiac Telephone, forgotten and stashed in a steel cabinet on a piece of foam at the JAG, to the robbers at the Pretoria Art Museum who ditched the most valuable work, an Irma Stern painting, on the sidewalk when it wouldn't fit in their car. The story became even more outlandish when most of the works were found two days later at a cemetery under a bench.
Theft, murder, forgery, mismanagement, and artworks that generate controversy due to the sensitive cultural issues depicted – we've seen it all. The enormous amount of money and prestige associated with the art world creates an ample space for scandals to breed. If you approach the art industry from the perspective of a developing country, the space for scandals and fraud widens. One of our biggest art disasters is the cultural treasures that were plundered in Africa during the colonial period: Valuable cultural artefacts were removed, bartered, and collected for museums and private collections in Europe and North America.
The plundering of visual protest
The way our cultural heritage was largely ignored during apartheid, along with art representing indigenous and marginalised communities, must surely be considered one of the greatest crimes against art in the country. The state applied strict censorship on cultural products to maintain social control. Many works criticising the system were banned, removed or destroyed. Apartheid itself was one big censorship mechanism: Artists like Gerard Sekoto, Moses Mabhida, Louis Ndlovu, and Dumile Feni (to name just a few) were treated so badly that they went into exile early in their lives.
The censorship in all its forms, official and unofficial, was aimed at restricting and controlling the visual narratives of South Africa. From this oppression protest art emerged, which could be seen as one long movement over decades. After apartheid, the protests didn't stop, and new scandals continue to reflect the broader social issues in South Africa. This includes the ongoing struggle with the legacy of apartheid, the tension between traditional values and modernity, and the protection of national cultural heritage in a developing economic context.
The decolonisation debacle
During the #rhodesmustfall/Shackville protests in 2015, numerous artworks in Cape Town were destroyed and burned to provoke a response from the authorities. The protest initially arose from a lack of adequate student housing, symbolised by the erection of a shack on the University of Cape Town's (UCT) upper campus, but later deteriorated into a battlefield for paintings. The protest was defended on the grounds that the artworks embodied colonial oppression, and while many of the works weren't very valuable, important heritage works also suffered in the process.
GroundUp published a list of artworks that were removed from public spaces on campus by UCT because students had identified them as problematic. Various works by Sue Williamson, Irma Stern, Andrew Tshabangu, Breyten Breytenbach and a piece by Vusi Khumalo were “censored" by putting them in storage. Twenty-three artworks were destroyed during the #rhodesmustfall protest, but no list was ever made public.
Artists like David Goldblatt, Willie Bester and Breytenbach openly criticised UCT's decision to remove certain statues, busts, and artworks. Goldblatt, for example, questioned whether removing controversial artworks really addressed the underlying issues of transformation, or whether it rather suppressed intellectual engagement. He withdrew the collection of photographs he had donated to UCT and sent them to Yale University in the US.
Willie Bester, whose work is almost always politically charged, emphasised the importance of art as a platform for dialogue and confrontation rather than the erasure of history. Breytenbach also lamented what he saw as the undermining of creative expression and historical continuity.
Child of sin: Forgery
In 2019, artist Pippa Skotnes, daughter of the renowned Cecil Skotnes, began receiving inquiries about artworks supposedly created by her father. She was unfamiliar with these pieces, despite her unparallelled knowledge of her father's work. Over time, she realised: a stream of forged works by “Cecil Skotnes" and others had appeared on the art market. Work by his local contemporaries, such as Irma Stern, was also forged and offered for sale. Some of these forged artworks were sold by prestigious auction houses.
One of the most fascinating forged artworks is owned by the University of Pretoria. A humble, small oil painting attributed for decades to Rembrandt van Rijn (1588-1672) turned out to be fake all along. The work was part of an extensive private collection donated to the University of Pretoria by Dutch businessman J.A. van Tilburg.
I remember viewing this work for the first time as an art student. I couldn't determine why the painting of an elderly man with downcast eyes evoked no feeling in me. It was, after all, painted by Rembrandt: the master of the Dutch Golden Age of painting. The painting, which had belonged to the museum since 1976, was eventually subjected to extensive examination by the university's Tangible Heritage Conservation.
Initial assumptions about its authenticity were based on documentation in the prestigious Warneck collection in Paris, as mentioned in Cornelis Hofstede de Groot's scientific works. In 2015-16, auction catalogues at the RKD (Netherlands Institute for Art History) were studied, and the painting's provenance could be traced back through 14 buyers and sellers since 1899. Errors were found in this provenance.
After complex material analysis, it was found to be fake. Gerard de Kamper, curator at the University of Pretoria who was involved in the investigation, says he sees two forged pieces a week. De Kamper and Salome le Roux jointly manage a company called ART (Art, Research and Technical Analysis), specifically created to verify art, study forgeries, and maintain an archive of such works.
Forgeries of work by Maggie Laubser, Pierneef, Irma Stern, Anton van Wouw, Edoardo Villa, and Cecil Skotnes are common, he says. The Soweto Fine Art Gallery was well-known for forged old masters, according to De Kamper, but since the owner's death in March, smaller groups have become more prominent: Gansbaai for the Pierneefs, Johannesburg for the Modernists, Bloemfontein and Moorreesburg for sketches and Waenhuiskrans for watercolours.
Sipho Ndebele, a student of Cecil Skotnes, allegedly distributed forged artworks under the guise of gifts from his mentor, according to De Kamper. The techniques and materials he used didn't quite match those of Skotnes, although he was never formally found guilty of anything.
The combination of increasing international interest and insufficient regulation can lead to forgeries, and the exploitation of artists, especially in a traditionally undervalued market, Diana Neille indicates in an article in Maverick Life. More recently, questions have been raised about the authenticity of artworks said to be by Vladimir Tretchikoff, followed by several high-profile disputes over the provenance and authenticity of pieces supposedly created by the artist.
The bitter murder of Nokuphila Kumalo
In 2016, a fierce conflict arose between the Iziko South African National Gallery and the New Church Museum in Cape Town over a joint exhibition gone wrong. The exhibition, Our Lady, sparked public protest over the participation of photographer and painter Zwelethu Mthethwa, who was charged with murder.
The multimedia collaboration was meant to draw from the permanent historical art collections of Iziko museums and the New Church Museum's contemporary artworks. The exhibition was curated to disrupt typical and traditional moral attitudes and male-dominated stereotypes surrounding images of the female form. However, Mthethwa was charged with the violent murder of a woman: Nokuphila Kumalo (23), who was kicked to death next to his Porsche in Woodstock on April 14, 2013.
The Sex Worker Education and Advocacy Taskforce (Sweat) and the Sisonke sex worker movement held a silent protest outside the Iziko National Gallery. Several artists withdrew their work. It was ultimately decided to remove Mthethwa's work from the exhibition. Mthethwa was sentenced to 18 years in prison in June 2017 after CCTV footage was presented as evidence. Galleries and institutions struggled with the question of whether they could separate the art from the artist.
The Spear
The Spear, by Brett Murray, was responsible for major art hysteria in 2012. The painting was part of Murray's exhibition Hail to the Thief II at the Goodman Gallery in Johannesburg. It depicted then-president Jacob Zuma in a Lenin-like pose with exposed genitals. This image caused intense anger, leading to large protest marches, legal proceedings, and a court application by the ANC to have it removed. The painting was eventually damaged with knives and paint by Barend la Grange (58) and Louis Mabokela (25). In the court case, La Grange testified that he only met Mabokela when they were arrested.
They were charged with vandalism, which sparked major public discussions about freedom of expression versus respect for the dignity of individuals, especially public figures. It became a key moment in South Africa's ongoing conversations about artistic expression and political sensitivity. In his defence, La Grange testified that the gallery had the right to display the work, but after the work had made its point, it should have been removed. Both were acquitted with a slap on the wrist.
The reaction to The Spear touched on a deeper frustration about who has the right to create, criticise, and control artistic narratives in South Africa. Liza Essers, director of the Goodman Gallery, stated that the German owner of the work still wanted it - just as damaged as it was.
The Pretoria Art Museum heist
Five artworks worth R17,5 million were stolen from the Pretoria Art Museum in 2012. Three robbers pretended to be students when they came forward with a list of artworks they wanted to view. After the artworks were shown to them, they pointed a gun at Dawood Khan, a staff member, and tied him up.
Two days later, four of the paintings were discovered under a bench in a cemetery in Port Elizabeth after police received a tip from a whistleblower. The paintings in the cemetery were Stern's Fishing Boats, Maggie Laubser's Cat and Petunias, Pierneef's Eland and Bird, and Hugo Naudé's Hottentot Chief. The fifth artwork, by Sekoto, was only located much later in America.
A sixth painting, Stern's Two Malay Musicians, worth R12 million, was found on a sidewalk outside the museum after the robbery, because the criminals couldn't fit it in their getaway car. No one has yet been arrested in connection with the robbery although it is suspected that a well-known South African artist was involved.
Disappearance and reappearance
In October 2018, it was reported that a painting by Jan Hendrik Pierneef was handed over under suspicious circumstances to a Bloemfontein businessman by Ricardo Mettler, Ace Magashule's former bodyguard. According to a report by Netwerk24, Mettler allegedly wanted to use the painting (which had disappeared from the O.R. Tambo building in Bloemfontein) as security for a loan of R1,2 million to purchase property. The Free State High Court found Mettler guilty of theft, fraud and money laundering.
He claimed that he received the artwork, valued at R8 million, as a farewell gift from Magashule while helping to clear out his office. According to Mettler, Magashule told his officials to take the things that belonged to him as gifts, but to leave the Free State provincial government's property. Mettler took the painting to Strauss & Co Auctioneers to determine its value and later tried to use it as collateral for a loan from a Chinese businessman, Wei-Lun Hsu.
Because the painting had no provenance, Strauss & Co placed an advertisement to determine its origin. Hsu demanded proof that the work was indeed gifted to Mettler, whereupon Mettler forged a letter under the official letterhead of the premier's office declaring that the work had been given to him. Mettler was sentenced to 15 years in prison, but Magashule emerged unscathed from the incident.
The scandals reveal something greater
These types of art scandals reflect the complex nature of post-apartheid struggles that still shape the South African art landscape. They show how cultural institutions continue to grapple with transformation. There is also a fascinating economic dimension to these scandals. The theft of valuable artworks, such as the Pierneef painting, highlights a broader challenge in protecting South Africa’s heritage while working with limited resources.
The art market itself has become increasingly controversial. In addition to authenticity dilemmas, there are concerns about the commodification of African art and who benefits from it. While local artists often struggle to make a living, international auction houses have achieved record prices for South African art over the past decade. This economic inequality has sparked numerous debates about cultural ownership and exploitation.
♦ VWB ♦
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