Word: goya
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...company argues that $7,750 would be ample. At that, Thompson was better off than the lenders to last July's Cézanne show on the Riviera, whose eight canvases have still not turned up, and the National Gallery in London, which is still short one Goya, the $392,000 Duke of Wellington...
...delay at least makes the film more timely. Its hero is an objet d'artful dodger (Rex Harrison) of the sort that stole Goya's Duke of Wellington from the National Gallery in London (TIME, Sept. 1). With the help of a dumb broad (Rita Hay worth) and a clever painterfeiter (Joseph Wiseman), Rex artnaps a Velásquez from a castle in Spain. But a sinister grandee (Grégoire Aslan) steals it back, and before long bodies are dropping almost as fast as bum mots ("I want so much to be a first-class crook...
Frans Hals's Portrait of a Cavalier, which, unknown to the art world, had been residing for more than 100 years in the collection of a Major Warde-Aldam, went for $509,600. This year a new record for Goya was set with the sale of his hapless Duke of Wellington, which thereupon went to London's National Gallery and was almost immediately stolen. The Montreal collector, L. V. Randall, sold his master drawings for $186,400. Among them was a saint by Hugo van der Goes that brought an astonishing $84,000, making it the most expensive...
...theft was so brazen that Agatha Christie herself would most likely have dismissed it as too farfetched even for Hercule Poirot to solve. For one thing, the Goya portrait of the first Duke of Wellington was just about the most-talked-about painting in Britain. It had made big headlines earlier in the summer, when U.S. Oilman Charles B. Wrightsman bought it for a whopping $392,000 from the Duke and Duchess of Leeds. Indignant cries went up about national treasures leaving the country, and a private foundation and Her Majesty's government raised...
Historical Prank? Why did he go to so much trouble? The Goya was too well known to be sold. It was not insured (no national treasures are), and Her Majesty's government could hardly be expected to pay ransom-the most logical motive for most of the other robberies. At week's end, Scotland Yard was leaning to the theory that it was the work of some ingenious prankster with a highly dramatic sense of history. After all, the theft took place just 50 years to the day after a superpatriotic Italian workman named Vincenzo Perugia repatriated...