在博物館行竊比你想的要輕松

進(jìn)入大英博物館，走過(guò)羅塞塔石碑和帕特農(nóng)神廟的雕塑，不要被維納斯的胴體所誘惑，直接上樓到69號(hào)房間。這里很安靜，存放著一些老物件：古希臘的陶壺，古羅馬的粗制裝飾品，還有一扇木質(zhì)雙開(kāi)門(mén)，上面的銅制蜂鳴器夸耀著自己通向“古希臘和古羅馬的文物”。按下門(mén)鈴，卻無(wú)人應(yīng)答。因?yàn)樵诮?jīng)歷幾次盜竊事件后，門(mén)后的文物已經(jīng)遠(yuǎn)不如以前那樣多了。

大英博物館正處于危機(jī)。雖然具體的失竊文物數(shù)量尚不知曉，但博物館方面已通知了如下事項(xiàng)：一些最早可追溯到公元前15世紀(jì)的文物，包括黃金首飾和寶石，處于“丟失、被盜或損壞”的狀態(tài)。一名博物館員工甚至遭受搶劫。有的人秉持著刨根問(wèn)底的精神挖掘出了更多信息：據(jù)說(shuō)博物館在2021年首次察覺(jué)到了文物受盜；據(jù)說(shuō)羅馬浮雕寶石也在被盜文物之內(nèi)。寶石雖小，事件很大。來(lái)自愛(ài)奧尼亞大學(xué)的赫里斯托斯·齊羅甲尼斯教授說(shuō)道“這可能是迄今為止最?lèi)毫拥氖录瓫](méi)有人會(huì)想到在博物館里能發(fā)生這種事?！痹摻淌谠诼?lián)合國(guó)教科文組織領(lǐng)導(dǎo)一個(gè)調(diào)查文物走私的小組。

但與其關(guān)注丟失的文物，不如關(guān)注博物館的管理問(wèn)題。丟失一件文物可能是不幸，但丟失一堆文物就是博物館的失職了。大英博物館聲稱(chēng)館內(nèi)藏品被妥善管理，并以此建立自己的聲譽(yù)。而此次事件證明了事實(shí)并非如此。劍橋大學(xué)的古希臘文化名譽(yù)教授保羅·卡特利奇則認(rèn)為珠寶被盜并不意味著館內(nèi)其他藏品，比如帕特農(nóng)神廟的雕塑，都是不安全的。但他也說(shuō)如果藏品失竊持續(xù)了一段時(shí)間的話，“為什么沒(méi)有人發(fā)現(xiàn)？”

也就是說(shuō)：藏品到底是如何丟失的？博物館就像一座冰山，只展出少量的藏品，大部分的藏品不對(duì)外展示。大英博物館的館藏高達(dá)八百萬(wàn)件，展出的藏品只占其中的百分之一。而這百分之一的展品往往都是最具魅力和最負(fù)盛名的，比如帕特農(nóng)神廟雕塑和埃及羅塞塔石碑。如果這種文物被盜肯定會(huì)被立即發(fā)現(xiàn)。所以偷走小小的羅馬浮雕寶石無(wú)疑是“明智之舉”。甚至管理員都有可能不知道這件藏品的存在。

而現(xiàn)在這些文物因被盜變得聲名鵲起。有一些文物并非因其藝術(shù)價(jià)值而知名，而是因?yàn)樗?jīng)被盜過(guò)?！睹赡塞惿奈⑿Α吩?911年被盜前除了一些藝術(shù)愛(ài)好者鮮有人知，并且當(dāng)時(shí)盧浮宮方面過(guò)了26個(gè)小時(shí)才注意到它的丟失。大英博物館比任何人都清楚這一點(diǎn)，因?yàn)橐晃磺叭勿^長(zhǎng)曾說(shuō)過(guò)，帕特農(nóng)神廟雕塑之所以能成為“西方藝術(shù)的偉大代表是因?yàn)樗鼈儽灰瞥隽伺撂剞r(nóng)神廟?！?/span>

由此看來(lái)，這一系列的盜竊案便顯得十分尷尬。針對(duì)博物館失竊也難免會(huì)有幸災(zāi)樂(lè)禍的評(píng)論。齊羅甲尼斯教授說(shuō)，盜竊者“以大英博物館之道還治其之身?！睅讉€(gè)世紀(jì)以來(lái)，大英博物館肆意掠奪偷盜他國(guó)文物，引發(fā)了諸多國(guó)家的不滿(mǎn)。“現(xiàn)在他們自己倒成了盜竊案的受害者?！辈贿^(guò)寶石若找回，它們也將被展出，只是這次將作為主角登場(chǎng)，而不是浮雕寶石上只露半張臉的配角。

Original Text:

Stealing from museums is easier than you might think

Go into the British Museum. Ignore the Rosetta Stone; don’t turn left for the Parthenon sculptures; don’t be seduced by the sumptuous naked statue of Venus. Instead, head up the stairs to Room 69. Here, it is quieter. There is the usual old stuff: Greek pots; some rude Roman decorations; and a pair of wooden double doors whose brass buzzer announces, expansively, that they lead to “greek and roman antiquities”. Press it, and no one answers. They are not likely to. Because, after a series of thefts, there are fewer antiquities behind this museum’s doors than there should be.

The British Museum is in trouble. Precisely how much is not yet clear. The museum has announced a few facts: objects dating as far back as the 15th century bc, including gold jewellery and gems, are “missing, stolen or damaged”. A staff member has been sacked. More details have, with archaeological painstakingness, been unearthed by others: it is said that the Museum first learnt of this in 2021; it is said Roman cameo gems are among the things stolen. This might sound small—the gems are tiddly. It is not. Dr Christos Tsirogiannis, who heads a unesco group on antiquities trafficking at Ionian University, says this is “probably the worst case so far…No one expects that to happen in a museum.”

This is less about pottery than principles. To lose one antiquity may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose hundreds looks as if you are a museum that cannot do its job. The museum has built its reputation—and defended its collection—by arguing that it looks after things well. This would imply that it can’t. Paul Cartledge, emeritus professor of Greek culture at Cambridge University, thinks that is overstating it: the theft of some jewels does not mean the Parthenon sculptures are unsafe. But, he says, if this was going on for some time, “How the hell was it not noticed?”

Equally: how the hell would it be? Museums are icebergs of antiquity, with the vast majority of their collections unseen. In the case of the British Museum’s 8m objects, only around 1% are usually on display. As with humans, museums’ “one percent” tends to be glamorous and noticeable: the Parthenon sculptures, the Rosetta Stone. Steal that, and it would be noticed immediately. Steal a tiny Roman cameo and most would be none the wiser. Other curators may not have even known they had it in the first place.

Until, that is, the theft becomes known, for filched art is fascinating. Some of the most famous exhibits acquired their fame less from artistic merit than because they were nicked. The Mona Lisa, until it was stolen in 1911, was little known except to art enthusiasts; it took 26 hours for the Louvre to notice it had gone. The British Museum knows this better than anyone: as a former curator once pointed out, the Parthenon sculptures became “this great icon of Western art because they were removed”.

Those sculptures are one reason why these thefts are so embarrassing. The sweet savour of Schadenfreude is evident in some of the comments on the thefts. The museum, says Dr Tsirogiannis, is “having a taste of their own medicine”. For centuries, it has collected objects—to the fury of other countries, which often claim such items were stolen. “Now they find themselves being…the victims of theft.” Though if the museum ever gets these gems back they could put them on display. This time, as a star appearance, not a mere cameo.