Enger loved crime. As a child he was obsessed with two things. The first was Frances Ford Coppola’s mobster epic The Godfather. At 15, he even used his ill gotten money to fly to New York City and see where the film was made. The second was Edvard Munch’s haunting work The Scream. So, in 1994, he stole it.

But, according to a recently released documentary available to watch on Sky Now, The Man Who Stole The Scream, that wasn’t the first time Enger had committed a crime. Enger grew up in Oslo’s Tveita neighborhood, the epicenter of crime in Norway’s capital city and home of the Tveitagjengen, which dealt in everything from robbery to murder.

After shoplifting sweets from local stores as a boy, Enger graduated to more sophisticated, and malicious, types of crime: robbing jewelry shops, cracking safes at night, and blowing up ATMs, according to the Sun. His former teammate Erik Fosse told the Athletic he would never take the subway into the city, instead opting to steal a Porsche, Mercedes, or BMW and drive in. 

He first saw The Scream in school. To him, it was the oil and canvas version of the trauma he suffered at the hands of a violent stepfather and a brutal neighborhood. Stealing the work would be the culmination of his criminal life. But it wasn’t the first time he’d stolen a painting by his fellow Norwegian. 

In 1988 Enger’s star was rising on the soccer pitch. “He was very talented,” Dag Vestlund, Valerenga’s manager at the time, told the Athletic. “He was small, quick, tough. I liked him a lot. He was always very well behaved in my dealings with him. Always polite, very humble.” Still, he decided to show the world what he was capable of, not on the grass but in the shadows. He decided to steal The Scream from Oslo’s National Gallery. Along with his friend Bjorn Grytdal, with whom he’d committed many of his early crimes, he carefully planned the heist.

Their plan wasn’t perfect. A miscalculation landed them squarely in front of Munch’s Vampire. So they stole that instead.

“The disappointment lasted days,” Enger said, “but then it started to become fun.” For a while they hid the painting in the ceiling of a pool hall Enger had bought that had become a local hang out for off-duty police. “‘They don’t know it’s hanging just one meter from them,” Enger said, “That was the best feeling. We let them play for free just to have them there.”

Unfortunately for him, Grytdal told a neighbor, who turned out to be a confidential informant, about the heist and soon police barged into Enger’s home, where Vampire was hanging on the wall.

He served a four-year prison sentence for stealing Vampire and his soccer career slipped away. But he wasn’t done. When he was released, in 1992, The Scream’s swirling orange, red, and blue sky was still on his mind. 

On February 12, 1994, the world was focused on the opening ceremonies of that year’s Winter Olympics in Lillehammer, just two hours away by car. Enger seized the opportunity, knowing that most of Oslo’s police had been diverted north to secure the massive event.

Enger enlisted the help of a homeless man, William Aasheim, who undertook the same smash and grab Enger himself had undergone a few years before while he stayed at home with his wife. Aasheim and an accomplice used a ladder to climb up to a window at the National Gallery, smashed it open, and climbed inside. Ninety seconds later, The Scream was gone.

“The National Gallery had no security,” Leif Lier, the chief investigator for Oslo police, told the Athletic. “You could just break a window to go in and get the painting. They had a few surveillance cameras, but this was 1994 and the images were really blurry.”

Enger reveled in the fact that, despite being a suspect, police couldn’t link him to the crime. A few weeks after the heist, his first son was born, and Enger took out an ad in the newspaper saying his son, Oscar, was born “with a scream.” He also called in countless anonymous tips claiming he had the painting in his car. When police would stop him and search the vehicle, they’d come up empty, to Enger’s delight.

That revelry didn’t last long. Enger, through the art dealer Einar-Tore Ulving, attempted to fence the painting. At an Oslo hotel, Ulving met with a man who claimed to be an art dealer from the Getty Museum, but in actuality was an officer from Scotland Yard named Charley Hill.

Ulving demanded around $400,000 for the $150 million painting. Hill agreed and the two drove to Aasgardstrand, a small village south of Oslo, to retrieve The Scream from a cellar. Ulving quickly was arrested, and soon after, so was Aasheim.

Enger grabbed his infant son, strapped the boy to his chest, and drove away from his home with a gun in his hand. Police followed him to a gas station where he was ambushed before anything got out of hand. He was eventually changed with “gun offenses” and, despite the initial lack of evidence, the theft of The Scream. He was sentenced to six years in prison, the longest sentence in Norway’s history for a such a crime.

In prison, Enger learned to paint and now claims people line up to buy his work. Norway’s copy of The Scream (Munch made four versions), now hangs at the new National Museum, which opened last year and cost $630 million, a building Enger claims they built “because of him.”

Looking back at his life, Enger said he might have done a few things differently. But he has no regrets about stealing The Scream. “I made history and it’s a cool story. Movies are made about things like that. This wasn’t a movie. This was real life.”

The exterior columns of the Corridor, a nearly 500-year-old passageway along the river Arno between the Uffizi’s Palazzo Vecchio and the Palazzo Pitti, was tagged with graffiti related to the Munich soccer club in the early morning hours of August 23. According to CNN, the two alleged vandals were part of a group of 11 German tourists who were staying at an Airbnb in the center of Florence.

The two suspects were arrested after the Carabinieri raided their Airbnb, where they found two cans of black spray paint and paint-stained clothes. 

“Clearly this is not a drunken whim, but a premeditated act,’’ Uffizi director Eike Schmidt said in a statement. Schmidt called for severe punishment of the suspects, adding that in the United States similar crimes can carry a prison sentence of five years. “Enough with symbolic punishments and imaginative extenuating circumstances. We need the hard fist of the law.”

The vandals caused around $10,800 worth of damage to the Corridor, according to the Italian Ministry of Culture, and the repairs will be carried out under the protection of armed guards.

The Vasari Corridor was built by Giorgio Vasari, and Italian Renaissance painter and architect, in 1565. The one-kilometer-long structure was completed in less than 9 months. It was designed to serve as a secret route between the private family in the Boboli Gardens and the administrative offices of the then-head of the Medici family, Cosimo I de’Medici.

The tagging of the Vasari Corridor is the latest in a string of vandalism in Italy. Earlier this summer, a tourist was filmed carving his and his girlfriend’s names into a wall of the Colosseum in Rome, while in Milan the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II was defaced with graffiti.

The gift was the first stage of an initiative started by Brown and Richardson, who created the AND1 Mixtape film series, begun in the late ’90s, which documents a traveling basketball competition. The pair aims to teach professional basketball players about art, not only as something to be appreciated but also as something that will appreciate in value.  

“The art world has never really been explained to a lot of professional athletes. They may have seen paintings or pictures their whole lives, but it was never taught that they could get involved with art from a financial standpoint,” Richardson told ARTnews. 

Rookie One Court is organized by Think450, the for-profit wing of the NBA players’ union, the National Basketball Players Association (NBPA). Along with giving NBPA members control over their likeness and intellectual property rights, Think450, which is named after the total number of players in the NBA, has long been involved in teaching financial literacy to players and their fans.  

“One of the things we’re trying to teach a lot of these players is the value of owning things that accumulate value,” Que Gaskins, Think450’s president, told ARTnews, “as opposed to a depreciating asset like a car.” 

For Gaskins, teaching players to appreciate art is a step toward establishing financial savvy and literacy among players, many of whom fought hard to make out of impoverished neighborhoods.   

“What we are trying to instill is knowledge, getting them comfortable with different things that we think they will have an interest in and showing them that there are ways to create opportunity, generational wealth,” Gaskins said. 

The initiative makes perfect sense for Brown. As the vice president of the NBPA, Brown has been a fierce advocate for social justice and has become well-known for his support of Boston’s black community. Earlier this year, after he set a record for the most lucrative contract in NBA history, $304 million for five years with his Boston Celtics, Brown said he wanted to combat the wealth disparity in Boston and launch a project that would bring a “Black Wall Street” to the city, in part by promoting education in science and technology in underrepresented minority community high schools. 

Meanwhile, Richardson appears to be an ideal partner for Brown. He has gained a strong reputation for his creative advertising agency The Compound, based in Red Hook, which he has run for over a decade. Richardson also once ran an art gallery out of The Compound’s former home in the Bronx, which will soon reopen in Red Hook. In the past, he has acted as an art advisor to NBA players who want an entrée into the art world, like Kevin Durant and Malcom Brogdon. 

Richardson approaches his advisory role much the same way he does all his creative work, with the belief that combining creative influences from different areas will bring about something new and interesting. Collecting, he said, is part of a basketball player’s DNA as much as the originality of their game. Richardson pointed to sports trading cards and comics as collectibles often pursued by young athletes, which later beget collections of jerseys and trophies. And that’s not including the high prices fetched for sports memorabilia from the self-same NBA stars. Earlier this year, Sotheby’s held an auction dedicated to memorabilia, which featured a signed pair of sneakers once worn by Michael Jordan during his last championship season with the Chicago Bulls in 1997–98. They sold for $2.2 million, becoming the most expensive sneakers ever publicly auctioned. 

“In our culture, we’re looking at sneakers as collectibles, and there’s a direct line from that to collecting art,” Gaskin said. Hip-hop is another strong influence on the rise in art collecting, he added. “I think Jay-Z obviously played a big role in having people understand the power of art, the uniqueness of it as a collectible and as an investment vehicle,” Gaskins said.  

In 2018, Jay-Z and Beyonce featured over a dozen major art pieces in the Louvre for their “Apeshit” music video. That came five years after the rapper co-starred with performance artist Marina Abramovic in the music video for “Picasso Baby.” In 2021, Jay-Z and Beyonce, in an advertisement for Tiffany’s, posed in front of a rarely seen Basquiat work, Equals Pi (1982). The couple are known to have an extensive art collection in their 30,000-square-foot home in Malibu, California. Beyond that, Kanye West, Drake, and other major stars have prominently featured or worked with major contemporary artists in recent years. Earlier this month, Kendrick Lamar featured Henry Taylor paintings in performances at Lollapalooza and elsewhere, blown up to stadium size. 

These influences have spurred a trend that has seen major athletes looking to the art world for inspiration, identity, and, of course, investment. Serena Williams has amassed a top-notch art collection in her Florida home that includes KAWS, Radcliffe Bailey, and Titus Kaphar, and her sister Venus Williams served as a model for a recent painting by art market darling Anna Weyant. Six-time NBA All Star Amar’e Stoudemire is a Basquiat aficionado, and ten-time NBA All Star Carmelo Anthony’s collection includes household names like Banksy and Shephard Fairey. 

Through Richardson, Brown was motivated to explore the art world and has begun building a collection of his own. In fact, the limited edition Rafa Macarrón print gifted to the top rookies during the Rookie One party was acquired from Richardson’s mentor, the art dealer Lio Malca, who recently opened a new gallery at 60 White Street in Tribeca. And it’s through Richardson that Brown learned to think of art as, not only an investment but something personal, an extension of himself. 

“As I grow and mature, so does my taste for art and culture,” Brown told ARTnews. “Passing that knowledge down to rookies gives them a chance to get involved when their influence is at its peak. The younger generation are the next influencers of this world so giving them art hopefully gives them the inspiration to learn more but to also develop their view on life.”

The atlatl essentially works as a lever. The cylindrical tool consisted of a slightly curved shaft, at the end of which was a notch or cup. A dart or javelin was placed in the notch, which helped a thrower add velocity and thrust when launching the dart, spear, or javelin.

While javelins are older, the atlatl was invented at least 17,000 year ago by Upper Paleolithic humans, according to the reference website ThoughtCo. Spanish Conquistadors recorded the use of atlatls by Aztec peoples in Mexico and noted that, with it, a stone weapon could pierce metal armor. The earliest examples of the atlatl, whose name comes from the Aztec word for spearthrower, were found in the Combe Sauniere caves in Southwest France.

“Many people tend to view women in the past as passive and that only males were hunters, but increasingly that does not seem to be the case,” Michelle Bebber, an assistant professor in Kent State University’s department of anthropology, told Yahoo!News. “Indeed, and perhaps most importantly, there seems to be a growing consensus among different fields – archaeology, ethnography and now modern experiments – that women were likely active and successful hunters of game, big and small.”

Bebber’s study involved a group of 108 people, all novice javelin throwers, and a total of 2,160 throws. During the tests Bebber found that women quickly grew accustomed to the atlatl and could launch darts as far as the men “with little effort.”

“Often males became frustrated because they were trying too hard and attempting to use their strength to launch the darts,” Bebber said.

This led Bebber to the conclusion that, through the use of an atlatl, a more “diverse array of people could achieve equal performance results” facilitating equal participation of men and women in hunting.

Not only did the atlatl serve to make women more capable hunters but, according to Bebber, “given that females appear to benefit the most from atlatl use, it is certainly within the realm of possibility that in some contexts females invented the atlatl.”

The experts said that the GPS data was so accurate that it could reveal, within just a few feet, exactly where a photo was taken, and consequently, where the art was being stored.

“Around 10 percent of the uploaded images contain exact GPS coordinates,” Martin Tschirsich and André Zilch of the German cybersecurity research company Zentrust Partners told the Post.

According to Tschirsich and Zilch, when aspiring consigners upload images to the Christie’s website in hopes of a future sale, GPS information is often included with the photographs. The “Request an Auction Estimate” page of the auction house’s website says a prospective seller can upload up to three images of work to their “complimentary online auction estimate service” for consideration. (Estate representatives are directed to a wholly different page for “Estates, Appraisals & Valuation Services.”)

Despite being contacted about the lapse in security by the researchers in June, Christie’s reportedly didn’t resolve the vulnerability until Tuesday. Tschirsich and Zilch said they offered to help deal with the vulnerability for free, but were told by an unnamed Christie’s executive that the auction house “[did] not require any advice or assistance” and that the issue had been directed to in-house security.

“As cybersecurity researchers we were very surprised by this reaction,” Zilch told the Post, which noted that while many companies pay white hat hackers like Tschirsich and Zilch to find vulnerabilities in their system, Christie’s does not seem to “advertise such a program.”

The pair have done such work for free in the past. In one instance, they helped secure patients’ health data in Germany and Tschirsich was one in a group of researchers who helped uncover a problem that would have effected election software.

The duo turned their attention to Christie’s “after an acquaintance asked them about how secure Christie’s service was. “Unfortunately, it only took us a few minutes to come across this serious vulnerability,” Tschirsich told the Post. “The vulnerability is so simple that it can be exploited by anyone with a browser within a few minutes.”

In a statement to ARTnews, Christie’s said it respects its “clients concerns about privacy and treats the protection of client information as a top priority.” The statement, which is identical to the one provided to the Washington Post, continued to say the auction house has a “comprehensive information security program” that protects against unauthorized access to client information and that representatives there “continuously assess” their security safeguards.

It’s unclear why, if notified in June, the vulnerability was corrected only last week after being contacted by the Post. Tschirsich told the Post that the “vulnerability is so simple that it can be exploited by anyone with a browser within a few minutes.” According to Zilch, “it actually takes only a few hours to temporarily close the vulnerability and two days to completely fix the problem.”

The four plan to continue to work together despite Greenberg Rohatyn reclaiming 3 East 89th Street, the once and future home of Salon 94, where LGDR held shows for artists like Marilyn Minter and Zhang Zipiao. Salon 94 Design, the design-focused branch of that gallery, has always been, and will continue to be, housed in the building.

LGDR, under its new moniker Lévy Gorvy Dayan, will continue to operate out of their headquarters on 64th Street. In September, the gallery will open a survey of Pierre Soulages, the famed French painter who died earlier last year at 102.

“We have more similarities than differences,” Greenberg Rohatyn told ARTnews. “It’s just that the differences have always been more public.” 

When it was first formed, in 2021, LGDR had the aim of being more than a traditional gallery. In addition to representing artists, it set out to advise collectors and facilitate sales to auction houses.

Its four founders had different focuses: Greenberg Rohatyn knew contemporary art, Gorvy knew the burgeoning Asian market, Lévy had connections in Europe, Dayan in the Middle East. Their backgrounds differed widely, too.

Gorvy was the postwar and contemporary art rainmaker at Christie’s before he joined forces, in 2016, with the already formidable Lévy, who worked at Sotheby’s early in her career. Dayan, too, is an auction house veteran, having spent time at Phillips with Daniella Luxembourg. The two later became partners in the chic New York– and London-based gallery Luxembourg & Dayan, which is now simply Luxembourg + Co.

Greenberg Rohatyn, on the other hand, started Salon 94 out of her family’s Upper East Side Townhouse. While she has always been ambitious—New York Magazine critic Jerry Saltz once said she was “at the level of those death-star, mover-and-shaker mega gallerists, good and bad”—her passion, she says, has always been “working with artists, helping build a career, hand-holding one or two collectors and working with them to build wonderful collections, and [doing] art fairs as a place to show curatorial vision.”

Some suspected that the differences among the founders would keep LGDR from lasting long, but Dominique Lévy, speaking with ARTnews from Greece, said that the alliance remained strong. “Yes, the four of us are big personalities, but there is very little ego,” she said. “It’s about the success and the ambition of bringing something relevant to the art community and an asset to the artists who choose to work with us.”

From its inception LGDR was meant to be a collaboration had the ability to do whatever was asked of it. In the New York Times, Gorvy described it almost Socratically. “We’ve been looking at ourselves in the mirror and trying to understand who we are and what is the best way to address our clients,” he said. “What is the business model that is appropriate? We don’t have to do everything, but we can do anything.”

According to Lévy, the group had matching amounts of enthusiasm and creativity for their venture, but their taste and commitments were sometimes at odds. Greenberg Rohatyn had a long history of design, but the entity LGDR did see design as part of their program. She was also committed to artists that LGDR couldn’t fully commit to.

“We are all past 50,” Lévy said, “and we all feel life if about giving the best of yourself, first to the artists but also to each other. We could see Jeanne was torn between her previous life, which was maybe more nimble, more personal, and a life that’s more collective. I think she was somehow missing Salon 94, in a beautiful way.”

In a way, the dissolution of LGDR is a sign, like the “market correction” that many market figures continue to say is happening, that things have returned to the before-times. When LDGR was formed in the summer of 2021, gallery sector sales had dropped 20 percent, according to the New York Times. Today, gallery sales are reportedly up 7 percent year-on-year, bringing the art market’s value back to pre-pandemic numbers. And back then, Greenberg Rohatyn and Dayan had a secondary market business, and they will continue to do following LGDR’s demise.

The four will continue to work together in other ways, though Greenberg Rohatyn no longer has a stake in the new organization. At Lévy Gorvy Dayan’s booth this year at Paris+, several of the works will come from artists squarely in Greenberg Rohatyn’s oeuvre, like Barbara Chase-Riboud, who recently gained representation with Hauser & Wirth.

“She’s an artist I’ve followed for a long time, and I think the context of putting Barbara with, say, a Fontana, at an art fair is really interesting to me,” said Greenberg Rohatyn.

“We all love this collaborative way of working, of doing business,” she continued. “And that’s what it is. I don’t need my name on everything I do.”

While it wasn’t immediately clear what form Salon 94’s roster would take, the gallery represented artists such as Judy Chicago, Niki de Saint Phalle, Lyle Ashton Harris, Minter, and Robert Pruitt prior to its closure.

With the return of Salon 94, Greenberg Rohatyn says she’ll be able to work comfortably, quickly, maybe even impulsively. “I love to just react to something and put it out there. When you work in a bigger gallery, you actually can’t work as quickly. I like that agility to have a space where I can put something up, where I can experiment, maybe go to an artist studio and bring something back and put it on a wall, if I want.”

Salon 94 will officially reopen this October with a solo exhibition of work by the sculptor Karon Davis. In November the two galleries will present an exhibition of work by the painter Jenna Gribbon at Lévy Gorvy Dayan’s 64th Street space.

The video, taken on July 18 by fellow tourist Lex Jones, shows a woman in a blue shirt, blue cap, and white capri pants standing on the stones roughly five feet into the fountain. The woman is holding on to one of the large stones at the rear of the fountain to hold her balance, and she can be seen filling up a bottle with water trickling down from the apex of the fountain. 

Suddenly, from off camera, a whistle is heard. A yellow vested security guard walks toward the woman, who has made her way back across the rocks and hopped back tiled ground around the fountain. The guard again blows her whistle, and at first the tourist doesn’t seem to understand she’s done anything wrong. 

The two being to speak, and the tourist appears to be confused. The video ends with the woman following the guard up the stairs, away from the fountain. Interestingly, the whole situation could have been avoided had the thirsty tourist looked on the opposite side of the Trevi Fountain, where there is a rectangular water basin known as the “fountain of lovers,” which is continuously filled by two spouts.  

“There were signs all over saying that’s not allowed,” Jones wrote on the Storyful website. “I was just like, wow, this is crazy so I started videoing it.” She added that the tourist “kept trying to explain her side and didn’t really understand why she was in trouble.” 

It’s unclear if the tourist was fined or in some other way reprimanded.

The fountain’s water comes directly from the Aqua Virgo, an aqueduct that dates back to 19 BCE and is the only ancient Roman aqueduct still in use today. 

While ancient once Romans enjoyed clean spring water from Aqua Virgo, drinking from the fountain may not be the best idea. According to Rome Experience, 80,000 cubic meters of water produced by the fountain each day “is recycled and just for show, so don’t be tempted to drink it.”

The fountain, which was built in the architect Nicola Salvi and completed after Salvi’s death in 1762, is one of Rome’s most recognizable landmarks. The 1954 rom-com Three Coins in the Fountain is said to have started the tradition of throwing coins in the fountain for luck, but it’s possible that La Dolce Vita, the famed Federico Fellini film 1960 in which Anita Ekberg takes a walk in the fountain, may have spurred this stunt.

Since 2006, the coins, which often add up to €3,000 per day, are taken by a Roman Catholic charity and used to fund food and social programs. The wealth under the water has often been targeted by thieves, one of whom, who goes by the nickname “D’Artagnan,” was arrested in 2002 and reportedly took up to €1,000 a day from the fountain for over 34 years, according to the BBC.

It may still be summer, but the major auction houses already have their sights on November’s biannual evening sales. The biggest estate in play at the moment is that of longtime Whitney trustee and art collector Emily Fisher Landau.

Christie’s and Sotheby’s are going head-to-head for the artworks amassed by Fisher Landau, who died this past March at age 102, according to numerous dealers and advisors with knowledge of the negotiations. (She is survived by her daughter, Candia, who is also a collector and philanthropist.) The collection could rake in between $375 million and $500 million, several dealers told ARTnews, with the star being Picasso’s Femme à la montre (Woman with a Watch), a painting nearly five feet tall from 1932, considered by many to have been a pivotal year in the Spanish painter’s practice. In 2018, the Tate Modern even held an exhibition centered on Picasso’s work that year. In 1932 he also painted Nu au plateau de sculpteur (Nude, Green Leaves and Bust), which sold for $106 million at Christie’s New York in 2010, at the time a record for any work sold at auction. Femme à la montre could end up beating the current record for Picasso: $179 million for his 1955 harem scene, Les Femmes d’Alger (Version “O”), at Christie’s New York in 2015.

A painting like the Fisher Landau Picasso “will hopefully demonstrate that the market has not come down” over the past few months, dealer Brett Gorvy told ARTnews. Gorvy was cohead of Christie’s contemporary art department when both Nude, Green Leaves and Bust and Femmes d’Alger sold (he ended up in a bidding war on the latter artwork with fellow Christie’s specialist Loic Gouzer). Meanwhile, an art adviser who asked to remain anonymous told ARTnews that the Picasso could reinvigorate the market after wobbly sales in May, when the Gerald Fineberg collection, up for sale at Christie’s New York, didn’t quite reach expectations and featured lowered reserve prices.

Despite the lackluster Fineberg results, Christie’s has something going for it in the battle for the Fisher Landau collection: the house holds the current auction records for Picasso and Ed Ruscha. In 2019 Christie’s sold a 1964 Ruscha text painting, Hurting the Word Radio #2, for $52.5 million. The Fisher Landau collection has a similar text painting from the same year, Securing the Last Letter, which shows the word “BOSS” in all caps, with a vise gripping the final S.

Sotheby’s, meanwhile, holds the record for Cy Twombly, $70.5 million for a 1968 chalkboard painting—but only by a smidge: Christie’s sold a 1970 chalkboard work in 2014 for $69.6 million. The Fisher Landau holdings contain at least one stellar Twombly, an 8-foot-wide painting that the artist started in 1964 and revised in 1984.

Fisher Landau started collecting art in the early 1970s, after a well-publicized burglary of her jewelry collection brought a hefty insurance payout. She went on to amass some 1,500 works, including pieces by Mark Rothko, Georgia O’Keeffe, and Andy Warhol, who painted her portrait. Selections from the collection were shown last year at the Norton Museum in Palm Beach, where Fisher Landau had a home. The Picasso, which had been on loan to Miami’s Perez Art Museum in 2018, hung front and center.

In 1991 the collector opened the Fisher Landau Center for Art in a 25,000-square-foot former parachute factory in Long Island City, Queens. It served as a home for her collection and a museum that was open to the public. The center closed to the public in November 2017.

Fisher Landau donated 367 works to the Whitney Museum in 2010, where for years she had been a trustee. The gift was estimated to be worth between $50 and $75 million, and features pivotal names in American art including Jasper Johns, William Eggleston, and Ruscha. The gift also gave a glimpse into the depth at which Fisher Landau collected: there were 14 works by Robert Rauschenberg from between 1950 and 1990, four by James Rosenquist, including the mural-size House of Fire II (1982), and an impressive 44 works by Johns.

Sotheby’s and Christie’s did not respond to requests for comment by press time.

The conditions along the beach in Latina, the capital of Italy’s Lazio region, were perfect for a stroll: the day was hot, in the low 80s, and the sea was exceptionally clear. Incidentally, those are the same conditions that make finding an artifact from antiquity as easy as skipping stones. 

The flaneur was enjoying his walk along the shore of the Pontine beach when he spotted something not normally seen among the shells, umbrellas, and bits of driftwood that usually pepper a beach—a tall, thin jar known as an amphora, used in ancient times to transport wine and oil, among other things, along the shipping routes that border Italy.

The man called the closest lifeguard, an unnamed 19-year-old stationed not far away. The lifeguard, “with extreme caution,” lifted the amphora out of the sand by its neck. He then called the Coast Guard who sent Commander Samuel Sasso to retrieve the artifact. 

Experts have described the Dressel 2-4 amphora as “perfectly preserved,” and believe it to have washed up on shore overnight. 

According to Ansa, the amphora will likely be housed in a museum in Latina founded by Benito Mussolini in the 1930s, after the draining of the Pontine Marshes.

Sculptor Peter Stephenson crafted the work in 1850 from a single piece of white Vermont marble. He donated it in 1863 to the MCMA, where it was displayed at the organization’s headquarters for 65 years.

In 1958, amid a period of what the Times described as “financial trouble,” the MCMA sold their 300,000-square-foot Boston property. During the move to their new location, the MCMA was told The Wounded Indian had been destroyed.

However, after believing for years that the move had cost them the sculpture, the MCMA discovered in 1999 that The Wounded Indian was on display at the Chrysler Museum of Art. The museum claims to have bought the work from a New York collector and dealer in 1986, the dealer allegedly claiming that the work “had been abandoned and was his rightful property.”

Since then, the MCMA has worked to have the object returned, claiming that the statue is actually stolen property. Their general counsel, Paul Revere III, a descendant of the Revolutionary War hero who started the MCMA, and Greg Werkheiser, an attorney for the association, have since entered negotiations with the museum, though no headway had been made. 

That is, until recently, after the MCMA reached out to both the Washington Post and the FBI’s Art Crime division as a tactical move to put pressure on the museum to relinquish the sculpture.

“The Wounded Indian is as Boston a piece of art as anything can be,” Revere said in a statement to the New York Times. “The people of Boston deserve to be able to visit and appreciate this part of their heritage.”

Before long, the Chrysler Museum raised the white flag and agreed to hand the sculpture over to the MCMA by the end of August. Erik H. Neil, Chrysler Museum director, said in a statement that he “is pleased with the amicable resolution.” The MCMA complimented the museum’s “wisdom and collaboration in reaching an amicable and ethical resolution of this matter.”

The FBI even chimed in, according to the Times: We are “proud to have been able to help facilitate the return of this 19th-century statue to its rightful owner.”