The last of the centennial shows was supposed to be made up of loans from the world's finest museums -- modest things like the "Mona Lisa" and Rembrandt's "Night Watch." But it never happened because the insurance was not affordable.
I was fuming to my staff about how I wished the United States could follow the lead of Britain, whose art indemnity law required that the government pick up the cost of the insurance, when a new member of my staff remarked that the U.S. State Department did indemnify certain private businesses for up to 90% of the value. Our initial inquiries led directly to passage of the Arts and Artifacts Indemnity Act of 1975, which now indemnifies foreign art shows up to $500 million in value. Without this, Tut would never have hit these shores.
Once indemnified, we were able to mount the spectacular Scythian Gold show from Russia, and for the first time we developed a fine product line, including some stunning jewelry. We dared to make solid gold replicas of pieces in the exhibition, with a price tag of $3,500, and were astonished to find that the expensive items sold better than the tchotchkes.
Then came Tut 1976, dreamed up by President Nixon to show that we Americans had bested the Soviets in Egypt. I was asked to organize the extravaganza. What few people know is that the first show was designed to raise money to help Egypt fix up the decrepit Egyptian Museum. Because several museums on the tour were not planning to charge admission, my pitch to the Egyptians was that we publish a grand catalog and make a fabulous product line of replicas and jewelry from which Egypt would receive all the profits for the run of the show. (Egypt made about $7 million, but that money has vanished, at least according to Zahi Hawass, Egypt's chief of antiquities, who said recently that "Egypt got nothing," which is odd because he was there when the checks were delivered.)
And 8 million people came to the show.
Yes, it's true that these shows can be a little crass. And of course none of us likes commercialization. And, yes, it would certainly be nice if we could all sit around in our villas and look at the world's greatest art on our own walls, or visit the Egyptian Museum alone at night and kiss Tut's mask.
But the reality is that these blockbuster exhibits have brought real, rare and beautiful works of art to millions who otherwise wouldn't have seen them, at a cost they can afford and in a way that is both respectful and savvy. If that comes at a cost of a few trinkets and slightly higher ticket prices and a little crowding, so what?
To those who think that $30 is too expensive to see incomparable works of precious ancient art, think of how much it would cost to take your family to Cairo for a long weekend.
