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Priceless: How I Went Undercover to Rescue the World's Stolen Treasures
In Priceless, Robert K. Wittman, the founder of the FBI’s Art Crime Team, pulls back the curtain on his career for the first time.
Rising from humble roots as the son of an antiques dealer, Wittman built a twenty-year career that was nothing short of extraordinary. He went undercover, usually unarmed, to catch art thieves, scammers, and black market traders in Paris and Philadelphia, Rio and Santa Fe, Miami and Madrid.
In this memoir, Wittman relates the stories behind his recoveries of priceless art and antiquities: The golden armor of an ancient Peruvian warrior king. The Rodin sculpture that inspired the Impressionist movement. The headdress Geronimo wore at his final Pow-Wow. The rare Civil War battle flag carried into battle by one of the nation’s first African-American regiments.
The breadth of Wittman’s exploits is unmatched: He traveled the world to rescue paintings by Rockwell and Rembrandt, Pissarro, Monet and Picasso, often working undercover overseas at the whim of foreign governments. Closer to home, he recovered an original copy of the Bill of Rights and cracked the scam that rocked the PBS series Antiques Roadshow.
By the FBI’s accounting, Wittman saved hundreds of millions of dollars worth of art and antiquities. He says the statistic isn’t important. After all, who’s to say what is worth more --a Rembrandt self-portrait or an American flag carried into battle? They're both priceless.
The art thieves and scammers Wittman caught run the gamut from rich to poor, smart to foolish, organized criminals to desperate loners. The smuggler who brought him a looted 6th-century treasure turned out to be a high-ranking diplomat. The appraiser who stole countless heirlooms from war heroes’ descendants was a slick, aristocratic con man. The museum janitor who made off with locks of George Washington's hair just wanted to make a few extra bucks, figuring no one would miss what he’d filched.
In his final case, Wittman called on every bit of knowledge and experience in his arsenal to take on his greatest challenge: working undercover to track the vicious criminals behind what might be the most audacious art theft of all.
Rising from humble roots as the son of an antiques dealer, Wittman built a twenty-year career that was nothing short of extraordinary. He went undercover, usually unarmed, to catch art thieves, scammers, and black market traders in Paris and Philadelphia, Rio and Santa Fe, Miami and Madrid.
In this memoir, Wittman relates the stories behind his recoveries of priceless art and antiquities: The golden armor of an ancient Peruvian warrior king. The Rodin sculpture that inspired the Impressionist movement. The headdress Geronimo wore at his final Pow-Wow. The rare Civil War battle flag carried into battle by one of the nation’s first African-American regiments.
The breadth of Wittman’s exploits is unmatched: He traveled the world to rescue paintings by Rockwell and Rembrandt, Pissarro, Monet and Picasso, often working undercover overseas at the whim of foreign governments. Closer to home, he recovered an original copy of the Bill of Rights and cracked the scam that rocked the PBS series Antiques Roadshow.
By the FBI’s accounting, Wittman saved hundreds of millions of dollars worth of art and antiquities. He says the statistic isn’t important. After all, who’s to say what is worth more --a Rembrandt self-portrait or an American flag carried into battle? They're both priceless.
The art thieves and scammers Wittman caught run the gamut from rich to poor, smart to foolish, organized criminals to desperate loners. The smuggler who brought him a looted 6th-century treasure turned out to be a high-ranking diplomat. The appraiser who stole countless heirlooms from war heroes’ descendants was a slick, aristocratic con man. The museum janitor who made off with locks of George Washington's hair just wanted to make a few extra bucks, figuring no one would miss what he’d filched.
In his final case, Wittman called on every bit of knowledge and experience in his arsenal to take on his greatest challenge: working undercover to track the vicious criminals behind what might be the most audacious art theft of all.
324 pages, Audiobook
First published June 1, 2010
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 863 reviews
August 15, 2012
The content is interesting, even very interesting. The way he tells it is not. Not only is his writing dull, but it drove me crazy that he makes himself out to be the best thing to happen to the FBI since, well, the X-Files. (Personal opinion, of course - not everyone likes the X-Files.) But, seriously, man, bring the ego down a notch.
February 15, 2022
Это моя вторая книга-воспоминания спецагента ФБР, и оба автора кажутся невероятными снобами, единственными, кто в состоянии делать такую сложную работу, как розыск утерянных произведений искусства (или маньяков). Хотела бы я узнать, как происходит рекрутинг в ФБР, какова там внутренняя кухня, потому что наверняка каждый из этих агентов, в общем, вправе сказать, что он крутой молодец.
Не обращая внимания на некоторое бахвальство (и лишние фрагменты биографии), книжку можно прочитать не без удовольствия. Узнать, например, что продавать перья белоголового орла в США незаконно, а украденного Рембрандта гораздо легче украсть, чем продать. Такое собранье пестрых анекдотов о реальных делах, плюс ценные советы, как вести работу под прикрытием :)
Не обращая внимания на некоторое бахвальство (и лишние фрагменты биографии), книжку можно прочитать не без удовольствия. Узнать, например, что продавать перья белоголового орла в США незаконно, а украденного Рембрандта гораздо легче украсть, чем продать. Такое собранье пестрых анекдотов о реальных делах, плюс ценные советы, как вести работу под прикрытием :)
November 4, 2019
In talking about this with friends, I called it an autobiography. Wittman calls it a memoir, and I suppose that is the more accurate term as there is very little having to do with his life other than his FBI career. Wittman tells us that even as a child he had been interested in working for the FBI. His neighbor was an agent and his favorite TV program was The F.B.I. with Efrem Zimbalist Jr. When he finally landed a job as agent, there was not as yet an FBI Art Crimes Unit.
Wittman tells us how he felt lucky that his first position was to be paired with a man in the property crimes squad in Philadelphia, a man who had more than a passing interest in investigating art crime. And as further luck would have it, in his first month with the bureau there were two museum thefts. Wittman's story continues as he went undercover in a number of cases where he was successful in recovering precious art.
There were a couple of cases that interested me a bit more than others. One involved the recovery of a Civil War battle flag. This flag had been carried at the front of a Corps d'Afrique unit and there were only 5 such flags known to exist. Wittman spent several pages providing background on how initially African Americans weren't allowed to participate in other than support positions, and then how they eventually served honorably. Another case involved the recovery of one of the original 14 copies of the Bill of Rights. After passing Congress, 14 copies were made: one to stay in Washington, DC and 13 others to be delivered to each of the original states for ratification. At the end of the Civil War, as Union soldiers captured Raleigh, North Carolina, that state's "copy" went missing.
Wittman tells of other cases where he went undercover. He went undercover in cases involving Rembrandt and Picasso and other names easily recognized even by those who aren't art followers, like me. Throughout, however, he talks about how important these works are to all of us. Simply put, they are our history and our heritage.
I continue to wonder why I am drawn to books having to do with lives and activities surrounding art, while having little interest in the works of art themselves. But I *am* drawn to this type of work and I will likely be content to find myself in front of another, either nonfiction or fiction. This memoir put a lot in context. It is very readable and I suspect that is due in large part to his co-writer, John Shiffman, an investigative reporter for The Philadelphia Inquirer. I think Wittman might not have more stories to tell, but I should watch for others by Shiffman. This was better than I might have expected and I enjoyed it thoroughly - 5-stars worth.
Wittman tells us how he felt lucky that his first position was to be paired with a man in the property crimes squad in Philadelphia, a man who had more than a passing interest in investigating art crime. And as further luck would have it, in his first month with the bureau there were two museum thefts. Wittman's story continues as he went undercover in a number of cases where he was successful in recovering precious art.
There were a couple of cases that interested me a bit more than others. One involved the recovery of a Civil War battle flag. This flag had been carried at the front of a Corps d'Afrique unit and there were only 5 such flags known to exist. Wittman spent several pages providing background on how initially African Americans weren't allowed to participate in other than support positions, and then how they eventually served honorably. Another case involved the recovery of one of the original 14 copies of the Bill of Rights. After passing Congress, 14 copies were made: one to stay in Washington, DC and 13 others to be delivered to each of the original states for ratification. At the end of the Civil War, as Union soldiers captured Raleigh, North Carolina, that state's "copy" went missing.
Wittman tells of other cases where he went undercover. He went undercover in cases involving Rembrandt and Picasso and other names easily recognized even by those who aren't art followers, like me. Throughout, however, he talks about how important these works are to all of us. Simply put, they are our history and our heritage.
I continue to wonder why I am drawn to books having to do with lives and activities surrounding art, while having little interest in the works of art themselves. But I *am* drawn to this type of work and I will likely be content to find myself in front of another, either nonfiction or fiction. This memoir put a lot in context. It is very readable and I suspect that is due in large part to his co-writer, John Shiffman, an investigative reporter for The Philadelphia Inquirer. I think Wittman might not have more stories to tell, but I should watch for others by Shiffman. This was better than I might have expected and I enjoyed it thoroughly - 5-stars worth.
August 5, 2013
"Undercover work is like chess. You need to master your subject and stay one or two moves ahead of your opponent.....It's all about understanding human nature--winning a person's trust and then taking advantage of it. You befriend, then betray."
Robert Wittman's memoir of his twenty years as an art detective for the FBI was fascinating. He traveled around the world recovering hundreds of millions of dollars of stolen art. The author points out that a part of our history and our culture is lost whenever art and antiquities are stolen. He also founded and trained the FBI's Art Crime Team.
John Shiffman, an investigative reporter, worked as a team with Robert Wittman to write this informative and entertaining look at art theft, FBI undercover work, and government bureaucracy.
Robert Wittman's memoir of his twenty years as an art detective for the FBI was fascinating. He traveled around the world recovering hundreds of millions of dollars of stolen art. The author points out that a part of our history and our culture is lost whenever art and antiquities are stolen. He also founded and trained the FBI's Art Crime Team.
John Shiffman, an investigative reporter, worked as a team with Robert Wittman to write this informative and entertaining look at art theft, FBI undercover work, and government bureaucracy.
March 13, 2021
The blurbs say that it's riveting, spellbinding, entertaining, surprisingly informative, lively, fascinating etc. I did want to find it so, but sorry to say I have not.
That said, I do realize why and how the author wanted to vent his disappointment at the FBI and their inefficiency in solving art crimes. Still, for me, this made for a rather depressive read: apparently, the situation with art crimes is very sad, yet as a private individual, I cannot see how I can be of any help.
There are some interesting art history facts, but, of course, one learns more from actual art history books, and with the crime part being so drab, I did not particularly enjoy this book.
But of course, this had to be written so that maybe somebody who can influence the FBI could explain to them that they're wrong and Robert Wittman is right (so it seems to me, I mean).
That said, I do realize why and how the author wanted to vent his disappointment at the FBI and their inefficiency in solving art crimes. Still, for me, this made for a rather depressive read: apparently, the situation with art crimes is very sad, yet as a private individual, I cannot see how I can be of any help.
There are some interesting art history facts, but, of course, one learns more from actual art history books, and with the crime part being so drab, I did not particularly enjoy this book.
But of course, this had to be written so that maybe somebody who can influence the FBI could explain to them that they're wrong and Robert Wittman is right (so it seems to me, I mean).
February 16, 2011
This book almost feels bipolar. At times, it is a very good book about the stealing of art. Other times, it is a personal story about an FBI agent.
Sadly, the personal story is really boring and amounts to digressions that really, really take too long. While Wittman's background is told quickly, when he joins the FBI he seems to spend too much time that on things that have nothing to do with the title. While one particular event is important because it impacts him, other events aren't essential and get overblown.
And it also seems as if he is tooting his horn a bit too much. Though in all fairness, it is a first person narrative. It's hard not to.
Towards the end, Wittman has to deal with red tape and this slows the pacing done.
However, I am very glad I read it.
Sadly, the personal story is really boring and amounts to digressions that really, really take too long. While Wittman's background is told quickly, when he joins the FBI he seems to spend too much time that on things that have nothing to do with the title. While one particular event is important because it impacts him, other events aren't essential and get overblown.
And it also seems as if he is tooting his horn a bit too much. Though in all fairness, it is a first person narrative. It's hard not to.
Towards the end, Wittman has to deal with red tape and this slows the pacing done.
However, I am very glad I read it.
Read
July 29, 2022Whittman's memoir is a fast-paced, addictive, page-turner. You'll get pulled down the rabbit hole, into the world of Art Crime, a book that blends stories of art heists and black-market transactions with Wittman's early life and his time in the FBI Academy.
It sucks you in right from the get-go and doesn't let go - It is fascinating!
Art crime is a six-billion-dollar industry, and Priceless really drives home the lengths thieves will go to in order to steal priceless works of art, only to then sell them for a fraction of their value. For example, in 1994, Edvard Munch’s masterpiece The Scream was stolen from a museum in Oslo. The thieves attempted to sell the $75 million painting for a paltry $750,000!
This memoir would make a great book for a discussion.
If you enjoy the WHO, WHAT, WHEN, WHERE, and WHY of art history and true crime – this book will undoubtedly feed your appetite!
Lisa Palmer - Reader Services Department
It sucks you in right from the get-go and doesn't let go - It is fascinating!
Art crime is a six-billion-dollar industry, and Priceless really drives home the lengths thieves will go to in order to steal priceless works of art, only to then sell them for a fraction of their value. For example, in 1994, Edvard Munch’s masterpiece The Scream was stolen from a museum in Oslo. The thieves attempted to sell the $75 million painting for a paltry $750,000!
This memoir would make a great book for a discussion.
If you enjoy the WHO, WHAT, WHEN, WHERE, and WHY of art history and true crime – this book will undoubtedly feed your appetite!
Lisa Palmer - Reader Services Department
December 12, 2018
Robert Wittman’s memoir about his 20-year career as an FBI agent specializing in art and cultural history crimes. He traveled internationally and worked with other countries’ law enforcement agencies to recover stolen art and antiquities, such as Geronimo’s war bonnet, North Carolina’s copy of the Bill of Rights, a Rembrandt self-portrait, a Peruvian golden backflap (from a suit of armor), and more. The book takes each case, examines the history of the stolen property, and details the covert work required to recover it. He weaves elements from his personal life into the narrative.
I found this book fascinating. It revolves around two of my personal passions: art and history. It includes intriguing elements such as art heists, fake deals, undercover subterfuge, and an insider’s view of the FBI. I flew through it. One of the most touching scenes in the book is the retrieval of the American Civil War battle flag from one of the first African American regiments to fight for the Union.
Wittman’s account gives a glimpse of the what the FBI is like, from the recognition and accolades when they resolve a high-profile case to the bureaucracy, turf wars, and personality conflicts. Wittman’s story was captivating, especially the details of his undercover work, how he gains the criminals’ confidence, appeals to their greed, and eventually obtains the necessary evidence needed to arrest them and recover the artwork. My only issue with it is the colloquial writing style (lots of discussion of facts and food). Recommended to those interested in art history, the FBI, or true crime.
I found this book fascinating. It revolves around two of my personal passions: art and history. It includes intriguing elements such as art heists, fake deals, undercover subterfuge, and an insider’s view of the FBI. I flew through it. One of the most touching scenes in the book is the retrieval of the American Civil War battle flag from one of the first African American regiments to fight for the Union.
Wittman’s account gives a glimpse of the what the FBI is like, from the recognition and accolades when they resolve a high-profile case to the bureaucracy, turf wars, and personality conflicts. Wittman’s story was captivating, especially the details of his undercover work, how he gains the criminals’ confidence, appeals to their greed, and eventually obtains the necessary evidence needed to arrest them and recover the artwork. My only issue with it is the colloquial writing style (lots of discussion of facts and food). Recommended to those interested in art history, the FBI, or true crime.
August 22, 2012
Somehow, I knew that art thieves were not all really like Pierce Brosnon's Thomas Crowne, hiding Picasso's in his mane of chest hair, or like Catherine Zeta Jones getting her freak on with laser alarms. Yet, I wanted to believe that they were like that. But, "Priceless" serves to put those rumors to rest. A tell-all about the art crime industry from the FBI's pioneer in the field, the book shares tale after tale of the tawdry, seedy, and even boneheadedly simple and very un-Pierce-like world of art thieves. To me, the whole concept of art crime being considered as almost a fashionable and less threatening crime despite the cowardly looting of truly priceless objects is quite fascinating. And it is a theme that the author also keeps harping on. The stories do get a bit bogged down in the telling however. So many of the investigations tend to run into each other and share many of the same basic concepts that the reader can get a bit lost. Though he isn't the world's best story-teller, Wittman does have a pretty amazing story to tell.
May 8, 2015
This was a very fascinating read. It catalogues the career of the ONLY full time Art theft agent. Over his career he recovered Geronimo's headrest, an 800 year old piece of armor and even an original Bill Of Rights missing for over a hundred years. All total the value of his recovered art is well over 250 MILLION DOLLARS. It was written very well and was actually quite entertaining.
June 9, 2010
What a life Wittman lived as an undercover FBI agent hunting down stolen treasures. I ‘m amazed he was able to use the same undercover name for twenty years without the bad guys catching up with him. I’d assumed the art theft underworld was fairly small and maybe it is for criminals with some art knowledge but they mostly seem to be inept bumblers who see an opportunity and take it. So many museums are under secured it’s a shame. In the end it was interconnectedness of the criminals and the agents that ended Wittman’s government career, that and governmental bureaucracy both at home and abroad. It’s an old boys club filled with one upsmanship. What a shame especially since the final chapters hold out glimmers of hope of finding the Vermeer and Rembrandt stolen from the Gardner Museum in Boston in 1990. It was wrenching to hear one of the other Gardner paintings described as being badly damaged. Though I wish there was better news on the Gardner front that in no way takes away from the many other lovely things Wittman was able to retrieve in fact his descriptive art insider’s information made this book for me. For me this is one of the best art crime books I’ve read in years.
April 13, 2017
I might have given it 3 stars, but I was turned off by the ego of the author. He was always right, no one else was as good, and the way he talked about the FBI made me wonder why he ever wanted to work there. No doubt he did good things and was good at his job, but his attitude was what turned this book sour for me.
December 28, 2021
Не стоит ждать от этой книги увлекательных историй об успешных поисках похищенных шедевров в стиле "Аферы Томаса Крауна". Автор рассказывает о том, как устроен в США (или как был устроен до 2010-х гг) поиск музейных артефактов: от украденных из музея в Бостоне и так и не найденных, Рембрандта и Вермеера, до одного из первых экземпляров Билля о правах или традиционных индейских головных уборов из перьев.
В начале автор приводит данные о том, какие средства выделялись на организацию поиска предметов искусства в США и Европе в начале 2000-х. Лидировала Италия, затем шли другие страны Европы, США были далеко не в первой пятерке. Уиттман довольно откровенно говорит о недостатках организации работы по поиску музейных ценностей, о низком уровне специального образовании агентов, занимающихся преступлениями в сфере искусства, о других особенностях системы.
Читается "Операция "Шедевр" очень легко, сюжеты увлекательные, автор честно рассказывает о себе и это приближает читателя к главному герою, "включает" сопереживание и книга воспринимается уже не просто как нон-фикшн, а как своеобразная автобиография с элементами детектива.
В начале автор приводит данные о том, какие средства выделялись на организацию поиска предметов искусства в США и Европе в начале 2000-х. Лидировала Италия, затем шли другие страны Европы, США были далеко не в первой пятерке. Уиттман довольно откровенно говорит о недостатках организации работы по поиску музейных ценностей, о низком уровне специального образовании агентов, занимающихся преступлениями в сфере искусства, о других особенностях системы.
Читается "Операция "Шедевр" очень легко, сюжеты увлекательные, автор честно рассказывает о себе и это приближает читателя к главному герою, "включает" сопереживание и книга воспринимается уже не просто как нон-фикшн, а как своеобразная автобиография с элементами детектива.
September 2, 2021
As many of you know, I am a sucker for heist and con artists stories. So I was drawn to Priceless because Robert K. Wittman offered a perspective I haven’t heard from—I’ve read a lot of stories from the points of view of the criminals, as well as from the marks. I was excited to hear from a retired law enforcement officer who specialized at going undercover. Wittman’s memoir is a treasure trove of insight into how art theft and the underground art market works, along with some interesting looks at how world events in the 1990s and 2000s shaped FBI enforcement and pursuit of things like art crime. As with many memoirs, one must swallow his stories with a grain of salt, sift through the small moments of self-aggrandizement. Yet Wittman largely won me over, and most importantly, I feel like I learned a lot.
The structure of this book is from a textbook in memoir writing: start with a dramatic incident at the height of Wittman’s career, then yank us back to the beginning of his life to tell us how he got involved in the FBI and art theft. This works pretty well. We learn about Wittman’s background (he is mixed race, his father a white American who served in the Korean War and married Wittman’s Japanese mother while on deployment), along with why he became interested in being an FBI agent. His entrance into the world of art crime was a little more accidental, though Wittman draws lines connecting his father’s interest in antiques and Wittman’s own penchant for sales—in the case of the latter, Wittman emphasizes the need for an undercover agent to sell oneself all the time: they buy you, your personality, not the facts of the cover story.
In this way, this book becomes about more than mere art theft. This is a window on the life of a certain type of FBI agent during the 1990s and 2000s. Wittman emphasizes the procedural demands of the job, along with his attitude towards them. He’s up front that one of the reasons he retired as soon as he was eligible for a full pension is that he thought, by 2008, that the FBI had “changed” and was “no longer the agency it once was.” Throughout his tellings, he definitely comes across as one of the smartest people in the room—that’s not to say he makes a Mary Sue out of himself, but there were a couple of points near the beginning of the book that I was tempted to put it down and walk away. I didn’t want to snark on this guy in a bad review. Nevertheless, I persevered, and eventually his tone and storytelling style grew on me. I believe Wittman is genuinely doing his best to be honest and straight with us, that he isn’t trying to make himself out to be some outsized hero.
So once you get past that, there’s a lot of interesting stuff in here. Wittman discusses why the FBI generally didn’t put a lot of resources behind art crime within the United States. He describes how 9/11 changed that (along with his own, very personal involvement on that day). I definitely got the impression that a lot of his experiences, the opportunities he had, the way things went down was a case of “the stars aligned” kind of juxtaposition of various events—something I feel is all too common in our lives and a good thing to keep in mind as we move through them. You never know how one world event or life event is going to alter the trajectory of what you are studying, working on, or engaged in.
Regarding the actual art crime angle, I built upon my existing knowledge. For example, I already knew that a lot of stolen art is difficult to fence because it is rare and recognizable. I knew that when it came to antiquities from nations in the global south, the market was driven by rich people from the West. I didn’t know much about the process that goes into investigating and taking down an art thief or dealer. Each chapter of Priceless focuses on a particular undercover case from Wittman’s career, and each reveals slightly different facets of the art crime industry. I really liked one in which, ironically, he couldn’t go undercover because it was too close to home—he arrested an Antiques Roadshow appraiser for defrauding people of the true value of their antiques! Wittman’s passion for getting justice and preserving the artistic and cultural heritage of various countries comes through loud and clear in these chapters. He laments law enforcement officers who focus solely on “getting their man” and putting people behind bars; for him, solving art crimes and retrieving stolen art was a public good.
So if you are looking for some good yarns, some “back in my day” adventures from a former undercover art crime investigator, Priceless has what you want. It has more serious moments, of course, such as when Wittman talks about the years-long struggle to clear his name of a drunk driving charge based on a hospital test mix-up. But this book is mostly what you would expect from the title and description, so as long as you go into it expecting that, you will be satisfied.
Originally posted on Kara.Reviews, where you can easily browse all my reviews and subscribe to my newsletter.
The structure of this book is from a textbook in memoir writing: start with a dramatic incident at the height of Wittman’s career, then yank us back to the beginning of his life to tell us how he got involved in the FBI and art theft. This works pretty well. We learn about Wittman’s background (he is mixed race, his father a white American who served in the Korean War and married Wittman’s Japanese mother while on deployment), along with why he became interested in being an FBI agent. His entrance into the world of art crime was a little more accidental, though Wittman draws lines connecting his father’s interest in antiques and Wittman’s own penchant for sales—in the case of the latter, Wittman emphasizes the need for an undercover agent to sell oneself all the time: they buy you, your personality, not the facts of the cover story.
In this way, this book becomes about more than mere art theft. This is a window on the life of a certain type of FBI agent during the 1990s and 2000s. Wittman emphasizes the procedural demands of the job, along with his attitude towards them. He’s up front that one of the reasons he retired as soon as he was eligible for a full pension is that he thought, by 2008, that the FBI had “changed” and was “no longer the agency it once was.” Throughout his tellings, he definitely comes across as one of the smartest people in the room—that’s not to say he makes a Mary Sue out of himself, but there were a couple of points near the beginning of the book that I was tempted to put it down and walk away. I didn’t want to snark on this guy in a bad review. Nevertheless, I persevered, and eventually his tone and storytelling style grew on me. I believe Wittman is genuinely doing his best to be honest and straight with us, that he isn’t trying to make himself out to be some outsized hero.
So once you get past that, there’s a lot of interesting stuff in here. Wittman discusses why the FBI generally didn’t put a lot of resources behind art crime within the United States. He describes how 9/11 changed that (along with his own, very personal involvement on that day). I definitely got the impression that a lot of his experiences, the opportunities he had, the way things went down was a case of “the stars aligned” kind of juxtaposition of various events—something I feel is all too common in our lives and a good thing to keep in mind as we move through them. You never know how one world event or life event is going to alter the trajectory of what you are studying, working on, or engaged in.
Regarding the actual art crime angle, I built upon my existing knowledge. For example, I already knew that a lot of stolen art is difficult to fence because it is rare and recognizable. I knew that when it came to antiquities from nations in the global south, the market was driven by rich people from the West. I didn’t know much about the process that goes into investigating and taking down an art thief or dealer. Each chapter of Priceless focuses on a particular undercover case from Wittman’s career, and each reveals slightly different facets of the art crime industry. I really liked one in which, ironically, he couldn’t go undercover because it was too close to home—he arrested an Antiques Roadshow appraiser for defrauding people of the true value of their antiques! Wittman’s passion for getting justice and preserving the artistic and cultural heritage of various countries comes through loud and clear in these chapters. He laments law enforcement officers who focus solely on “getting their man” and putting people behind bars; for him, solving art crimes and retrieving stolen art was a public good.
So if you are looking for some good yarns, some “back in my day” adventures from a former undercover art crime investigator, Priceless has what you want. It has more serious moments, of course, such as when Wittman talks about the years-long struggle to clear his name of a drunk driving charge based on a hospital test mix-up. But this book is mostly what you would expect from the title and description, so as long as you go into it expecting that, you will be satisfied.
Originally posted on Kara.Reviews, where you can easily browse all my reviews and subscribe to my newsletter.
August 1, 2010
In this stunning autobiography, former FBI undercover agent Robert K. Wittman details his 20-year career investigating the murky world of art theft. Adopting the false but carefully documented identity of Bob Clay, a shady art dealer with a taste for contraband, Wittman successfully infiltrated domestic and international criminal networks to recover more than $225 million worth of stolen cultural property — items ranging from a Rembrandt self-portrait to an original copy of the U.S. Bill of Rights.
Wittman also came closer than anyone else in the world to unraveling the mysterious 1990 robbery at Boston's Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. His encounters with criminals closely associated with the theft make for some of the most riveting chapters in the book, providing new and surprising information about the heist and the probable whereabouts of the Gardner's missing Rembrandt and Vermeer...
The rest of my review is available online here: http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html...
Wittman also came closer than anyone else in the world to unraveling the mysterious 1990 robbery at Boston's Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. His encounters with criminals closely associated with the theft make for some of the most riveting chapters in the book, providing new and surprising information about the heist and the probable whereabouts of the Gardner's missing Rembrandt and Vermeer...
The rest of my review is available online here: http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html...
January 16, 2020
A memoir with undercover proportions.
Not only I liked this reading, but also got me searching the internet for all the masterpieces in question. Robert K. Wittman spent over 20yrs as an FBI agent cracking theft of art pieces. His recovery methods and tactics, as well as the team involved in each art heist are commendable.
Not only I liked this reading, but also got me searching the internet for all the masterpieces in question. Robert K. Wittman spent over 20yrs as an FBI agent cracking theft of art pieces. His recovery methods and tactics, as well as the team involved in each art heist are commendable.
November 30, 2023
The concept was fun--a book relating the true stories of a man going undercover to recover stolen art. The stories could have been fascinating, but the writing felt amateur and detail-heavy. I thought I would be easily drawn in but I had a hard time getting through it.
December 21, 2012
As someone who enjoys crime fiction, I thought it would be fun to read some crime NON-fiction, and possibly learn a few things. While this book was vague on a few details on the inner workings of the FBI, it was highly informative, both about art heists and government bureaucracy.
Bob Wittman began his career with the FBI without any law enforcement experience, but his job history and personal interests gave him some unique skills that came in handy. When he first joined the bureau, art theft was barely even considered a crime, but over the course of 20 years, Wittman brought about some changes. In the end, the lumbering inefficiencies and petty egos of the bureaucracy came shining through, though.
This book chronicles Wittman’s early years in the FBI and then goes on to tell the fascinating tales of several lost and then recovered works of art. He begins with the artwork’s history, details its theft, and then goes on to describe how he helped get it back. One fascinating sidenote was information on differing police procedures in other countries, and how American agents work with them. Though not terribly in-depth in many places, it provided a decent overview and did educate me enough about art theft to know that, unsurprisingly, Hollywood almost always gets it wrong.
Bob Wittman began his career with the FBI without any law enforcement experience, but his job history and personal interests gave him some unique skills that came in handy. When he first joined the bureau, art theft was barely even considered a crime, but over the course of 20 years, Wittman brought about some changes. In the end, the lumbering inefficiencies and petty egos of the bureaucracy came shining through, though.
This book chronicles Wittman’s early years in the FBI and then goes on to tell the fascinating tales of several lost and then recovered works of art. He begins with the artwork’s history, details its theft, and then goes on to describe how he helped get it back. One fascinating sidenote was information on differing police procedures in other countries, and how American agents work with them. Though not terribly in-depth in many places, it provided a decent overview and did educate me enough about art theft to know that, unsurprisingly, Hollywood almost always gets it wrong.
June 13, 2011
You don't have to be an art connoisseur or even much of an art fan to appreciate this book. Here, Robert Wittman, now retired from the FBI, relates how he made a career of tracking down and recovering stolen art and artifacts. He recovered hundreds of millions of dollars worth of important historical artifacts and art through his career. Some highlights include the recovery of the 14th Bill of Rights, which was stolen during the Civil War; uncovering and exposing the scandel connected with two shady dealers on Antiques Roadshow; and the recovery of more than $2 million in Revolutionary and Civil War era relics stolen from a Philadelphia museum. The story is fast-paced and straightforward; Wittman finds the right balance of giving just enough history behind the pieces and the thefts without it coming across as a lengthy arts and history lecture. His stories on what he has to do to infiltrate the less seemly side of society are fascinating and, at times, intense. This is a must-read for true crime and history fans.
February 10, 2011
I'm in the arts for a living, so a book with the subject of just about anything about any aspect of art will fascinate me. I loved the premise of this book--an autobiography of a G-man's career finding stolen art and, ideally, bringing those who stole it to justice--and did enjoy it, but as I was reading it I found myself more interested in the author's description of the nuts-and-bolts of going undercover and of how the FBI works than in the stories of the rescued artworks. It is not a particularly well-written book (it is, after all, the product of a collaboration between a FBI guy and a journalist); however, it does have its moments of nail-biting action and the inclusion of the author's role in investigating the famous Isabella Stewart Gardner theft makes it particularly juicy. It has certainly warned me off of trying to purchase anything without solid provenance. Or provenience. (the author explains the difference)
February 22, 2011
Despite the author's repeated insistence that art theft is nothing like how it is depicted in the movies and on TV, the anecdotes he shares with us readers are just as exciting and interesting and shocking.
This memoir was highly enjoyable and easy to read but I was left with two sadly unsatisfying feelings:
1. That the best and juiciest portions of his undercover work were left unwritten or edited out (to protect people?). What there is is certainly eye opening but I couldn't help feeling like there was more he wasn't telling us. Or that he conveniently glossed over portions...
2. His career certainly built up nicely over the course of the narrative and you were rooting for the Art Crime Team to really get the recognition they deserved. But just at the pinnacle of his career, with major pieces at stake, everything seems to unravel. He blames it on internal FBI politics and that may be true but it's disappointing to say the least and made me wonder if there was more to it.
This memoir was highly enjoyable and easy to read but I was left with two sadly unsatisfying feelings:
1. That the best and juiciest portions of his undercover work were left unwritten or edited out (to protect people?). What there is is certainly eye opening but I couldn't help feeling like there was more he wasn't telling us. Or that he conveniently glossed over portions...
2. His career certainly built up nicely over the course of the narrative and you were rooting for the Art Crime Team to really get the recognition they deserved. But just at the pinnacle of his career, with major pieces at stake, everything seems to unravel. He blames it on internal FBI politics and that may be true but it's disappointing to say the least and made me wonder if there was more to it.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
January 10, 2011
This was a fascinating and compelling read. Written by and about a retired FBI agent who spent 20 years working undercover to catch thieves and recover works of art worth millions, the cases he outlines are varied and sometimes practically unbelievable. Wittman did an excellent job of educating the reader about the history and value of the artifacts he recovered, without making it feel like reading a textbook. He also has no difficulty describing some of the bureaucratic frustrations he faced within the FBI. Overall, a great read and a nice shift from the types of books I read most often.
February 16, 2018
Absolutely fascinating! Behind the scenes insight into the secret world of art and antique crime. The book keeps you on the edge of your seat as you follow an undercover FBI agent throughout his career. All I can think is that I would love to have a beer with Bob & just listen to more stories he has. Definitely recommended.
December 26, 2011
What can i say, i'm a sucker for books about art fraud. this book is really interesting,not just because of the stories he tells but also because it's well-written. Each chapter could have been a book on its own.
December 17, 2020
The author covers his career as an agent of the FBI, during which he specialized in undercover recovery of objects of art and historical significance. His early training in art was followed by a year-long study at the Barnes museum. His hard work and excellent sources stood him well in the repatriation of things such as an Indian headdress with eagle feathers, a preColumbian gold body armor plate, a Rembrandt, and more.
May 27, 2018
Pretty good balance between biography, true crime, art, and the soul crushing pain of bureaucracy.
March 20, 2018
Really liked this book. An easy read but a fun one. Reminded me of white collar. Liked to see how an agent gets tips and goes undercover and different interesting cases. Made me want to go to Barnes meseum.
June 5, 2018
I am a sucker for a good memoir of crime and justice, and this is one of the best. In his early 30s, Robert Wittman quit a career as an advertising man for an agricultural newsletter to try a hand at his dream job of being an FBI agent. A few chance accidents, like working the 1988 burglary of Rodin's "The Mask of the Man with the Broken Nose" from a Philadelphia museum, lead to his true calling as an art theft expert.
As Wittman writes, art theft thrills us in ways that more ordinary crime (drugs, bank robbery, fraud), does not. Art is immensely, insanely valuable. A Leonard da Vinci painting sold for a cool $450 million last year, and while that is an outlier, anything by an artist that you've heard of is probably worth a few million dollars at least. Museums and private collections are ludicrously poorly secured compared to banks and other hard targets. Yet artwork is the furthest thing from fungible. A piece is only as good as its provenance. A famous stolen artwork is impossible to display and very difficult to sell. They must be ransomed back to the legitimate world.
As such, the best move is the undercover sting, a long con played on a thief looking to sell to Wittman's undercover alter-ego, elite gray-market broker Bob Clay. Wittman moves through his career breezily, describing how he took down a New Mexico dealer in Native American artifacts with eagle feathers (illegal to sell in the US, legal to possess in Europe), a Panamanian diplomat selling ancient Peruvian artifacts, and the hosts of Antiques Roadshow. The standard template involved a delicate game to get the mark to bring the goods to a hotel room, where Wittman would confirm authenticity and then signal SWAT to bust down the door. He was good at it, closing dozens of tricky cases and recovering perhaps $500 million in artwork.
Art and artifact theft is the fourth largest crime by financial value, after drugs, weapons, and financial fraud, but you wouldn't know it from how the FBI handles it. Italy has a 300 officer special detachment, the best in the world. France is in second place, and Europe in general well-organized to combat art theft. The FBI's squad never exceeded eight people, and was dissolved with Wittman's retirement. His last case, the appropriately named Operation Masterpiece to recover the paintings stolen from the Gardner Museum, was almost a fiasco due to bureaucratic turf struggles within the FBI.
If Wittmann fails at anythings, it's his stated goal of removing the glamour from art theft. Too often we think of its perpetrators as a Thomas Crown or Sophie Devereaux, a sophisticated and worldly criminal. In real life, they're mostly dumb thugs and dishonest brokers, with the occasional unscrupulous insider. Art theft is a crime against our common soul, a defacement of the human aesthetic legacy. And yet, as ugly as it is, Wittman can't help but take joy in his job. More than justice, it's about winning a game.
And hey, I'm putting together a crew for a job. Going to need a hacker, hitter, grifter, and thief. You in, or you out?
As Wittman writes, art theft thrills us in ways that more ordinary crime (drugs, bank robbery, fraud), does not. Art is immensely, insanely valuable. A Leonard da Vinci painting sold for a cool $450 million last year, and while that is an outlier, anything by an artist that you've heard of is probably worth a few million dollars at least. Museums and private collections are ludicrously poorly secured compared to banks and other hard targets. Yet artwork is the furthest thing from fungible. A piece is only as good as its provenance. A famous stolen artwork is impossible to display and very difficult to sell. They must be ransomed back to the legitimate world.
As such, the best move is the undercover sting, a long con played on a thief looking to sell to Wittman's undercover alter-ego, elite gray-market broker Bob Clay. Wittman moves through his career breezily, describing how he took down a New Mexico dealer in Native American artifacts with eagle feathers (illegal to sell in the US, legal to possess in Europe), a Panamanian diplomat selling ancient Peruvian artifacts, and the hosts of Antiques Roadshow. The standard template involved a delicate game to get the mark to bring the goods to a hotel room, where Wittman would confirm authenticity and then signal SWAT to bust down the door. He was good at it, closing dozens of tricky cases and recovering perhaps $500 million in artwork.
Art and artifact theft is the fourth largest crime by financial value, after drugs, weapons, and financial fraud, but you wouldn't know it from how the FBI handles it. Italy has a 300 officer special detachment, the best in the world. France is in second place, and Europe in general well-organized to combat art theft. The FBI's squad never exceeded eight people, and was dissolved with Wittman's retirement. His last case, the appropriately named Operation Masterpiece to recover the paintings stolen from the Gardner Museum, was almost a fiasco due to bureaucratic turf struggles within the FBI.
If Wittmann fails at anythings, it's his stated goal of removing the glamour from art theft. Too often we think of its perpetrators as a Thomas Crown or Sophie Devereaux, a sophisticated and worldly criminal. In real life, they're mostly dumb thugs and dishonest brokers, with the occasional unscrupulous insider. Art theft is a crime against our common soul, a defacement of the human aesthetic legacy. And yet, as ugly as it is, Wittman can't help but take joy in his job. More than justice, it's about winning a game.
And hey, I'm putting together a crew for a job. Going to need a hacker, hitter, grifter, and thief. You in, or you out?
March 4, 2018
Another book for the Popsugar Reading Challenge, this was an absolutely fascinating read. Wittman takes you into his world of recovering stolen art, and the many cases he was involved in-I think one of the most interesting ones to me was the Antiques Roadshow scam, as I remember watching that show!
October 18, 2012
Years ago, I decided that I wanted to see all of the extant Brueghel paintings--a fun project that has led me to visit some places I otherwise wouldn't have. Online, I've met people who are trying to do the same thing with Vermeer, but nobody new is signing on for that, even though Vermeer has fewer known works, because one of them was stolen from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in 1990 and no one knows if it will ever be seen again.
This book eventually gets to that case, but it tells many other stories along the way. FBI agent Wittman worked not just on stolen paintings but also on looted artifacts and misappropriated cultural treasures. He often worked undercover, and his stories of duping greedy thieves in seedy hotel rooms are very satisfying. Not only do the good guys win, but art is returned to be appreciated by the public.
The writing here is workmanlike (Wittman enlisted a journalist as cowriter) but I didn't mind because the tales are so good. The backstory on Wittman's childhood is reasonably interesting and not drawn out. He also tells about how he went to trial for drunk-driving/manslaughter (and was acquitted) after a car accident that killed his good friend and FBI partner. This isn't particularly relevant to the art theft theme, but I think he had to address it since it dwarfs the rest of his career in the public record, and the authors do make an attempt to tie it to his approach as an FBI agent.
The book concludes with Wittman's effort to recover the Gardner paintings. If you follow the art world, you know he didn't succeed, because you would have heard about it. But he comes tantalizingly close and is apparently in contact with a syndicate that possesses the art. Then bureaucratic turf wars get in the way and the criminals shimmy out of the net. This part of the book is heavy-handed--there's a guy in Boston who comes off particularly badly and would probably want to issue a rebuttal--but having had no idea that there were any leads at all, I devoured the last fifty pages of this book.
This book eventually gets to that case, but it tells many other stories along the way. FBI agent Wittman worked not just on stolen paintings but also on looted artifacts and misappropriated cultural treasures. He often worked undercover, and his stories of duping greedy thieves in seedy hotel rooms are very satisfying. Not only do the good guys win, but art is returned to be appreciated by the public.
The writing here is workmanlike (Wittman enlisted a journalist as cowriter) but I didn't mind because the tales are so good. The backstory on Wittman's childhood is reasonably interesting and not drawn out. He also tells about how he went to trial for drunk-driving/manslaughter (and was acquitted) after a car accident that killed his good friend and FBI partner. This isn't particularly relevant to the art theft theme, but I think he had to address it since it dwarfs the rest of his career in the public record, and the authors do make an attempt to tie it to his approach as an FBI agent.
The book concludes with Wittman's effort to recover the Gardner paintings. If you follow the art world, you know he didn't succeed, because you would have heard about it. But he comes tantalizingly close and is apparently in contact with a syndicate that possesses the art. Then bureaucratic turf wars get in the way and the criminals shimmy out of the net. This part of the book is heavy-handed--there's a guy in Boston who comes off particularly badly and would probably want to issue a rebuttal--but having had no idea that there were any leads at all, I devoured the last fifty pages of this book.
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