Two Rembrandts

Rembrandt occupied much space in the art news of the week, and in a way which may be calculated to counteract the damaging effect of Dr. John C. Van Dyke's recent book of criticism and reattribution entitled Rembrandt and His School (TIME, Oct. 15).

Joseph E. Widener of Philadelphia refused a check for $520,334 with which Prince Felix Yusupov of Russia (TIME, Dec. 3) would fain buy back or "recapture" two Rembrandt portraits, heirlooms in his family for 200 years, but conditionally acquired by Mr. Widener in August, 1921. The refusal was an impressive demonstration of the undiminished potency of the great Dutch master's name.

Events leading up to the lawsuit in which the affair has now become involved:

In the Summer of 1921, Prince Yusupov, whose family was once reputed the "richest in Russia," found himself in financial straits. To raise immediate cash, he had already hypothecated these two historic Rembrandts, smuggled out of Soviet Russia in a manner still unexplained, for the admittedly inadequate sum of 45,000 pounds sterling.

At this juncture Mr. Widener (whose private gallery at Lynnewood, in the Elkins Park suburb of Philadelphia, contains a dozen or more of the finest Rembrandt canvases that ever have been brought out of Europe, including that celebrated landscape chef d'oeuvre The Mill) intervened, and paid or advanced as a loan to Prince Yusupov 100,000 pounds sterling, taking over the two paintings as security. It was announced at the time that he had purchased them outright, and evidently Mr. Widener himself preferred to view the transaction in that light, as he tightened it up with an iron-clad agreement, signed by the Prince, to the effect that the latter was to forfeit all right to the paintings unless on or before Jan. 1, 1924, he should pay back the -L-100,000 plus 8% interest dating from Aug. 1, 1921.

This is what Prince Yusupov is now trying to do, and is prepared to do, so far as having the cash in hand is concerned. He has proffered a check for $520,334, representing the current value of 100,000 pounds sterling plus 29 months' interest at 8%--a profit for Mr. Widener of $155,334 on his money investment, if he chooses to take it in that way.

But Mr. Widener does not so choose. He wants the pictures--not the financial profit. Even so, he is well ahead of the game, for this particular pair of portraits could be marketed for a good deal more than -L-100,000 if they are genuine Rembrandts, or even if painted by Vermeer of Delft, as Dr. Van Dyke somewhat fantastically asserts in his disquieting book. The figure mentioned at the time of Mr. Widener's "purchase" two years ago was $750,000.

And now, at the eleventh hour, when the young Russian nobleman attempts to reclaim the family heirlooms in the teeth of a harsh condition which must be fulfilled to the letter, he finds himself confronted with further obstacles, all in that remarkable agreement.

According to Mr. Widener's lawyers, it was nominated in the bond that in no case should Prince Yusupov be permitted to redeem his Rembrandts merely to sell or pawn them again. In fact, he is not supposed to buy back his treasures until "the terrible conditions in Russia have readjusted themselves," and the war-impoverished Prince "finds himself in the position to keep and personally enjoy these wonderful works of art."

Virtually, then whatever the reason the unlucky Yusupov wants back his Rembrandts, he must wait until the present Soviet regime in Russia is overthrown and the imperial Romanovs are restored to power, before he can make good money talk and reclaim the traditional family art possessions.

The case will make a pretty spectacle to watch in the courts.

The two paintings in question are half-length portraits of a man and a woman, a somewhat bourgeois-looking pair, 17th Century Dutch in type as well as in dress--the man with lace collar and cuffs, the woman wearing all her jewelry and holding an ostrich feather fan in her right hand. The date assigned to the two canvases is 1660, and they are superb specimens of the grand manner in portrait-painting--even though, as Dr. Van Dyke opines, "Rembrandt probably never saw either one of them."