Case Review: Cassirer v. Thyssen-Bornemisza Collection Foundation

By Timothy Chung

The artworks subject to claim for restitution frequently carry with them grim histories, often filled with heartache and tragedy in equal measure. Too often, looted objects can never be reunited with their owners or rightful heirs before the proper chain of title is discovered.^[1] The artwork in dispute in Cassirer v. Thyssen-Bornemisza Collection Foundation is no exception in this regard.^[2] Its story is one steeped in melancholy, and like many other cases concerning Nazi-looted art, it begins with a museum.

Madrid-based Museo Nacional Thyssen-Bornemisza (the “Thyssen”) ranks amongst the world’s largest private collections of European art, and boasts membership to the beloved Golden Triangle of Art alongside museums El Prado and Reina Sofia. However, in May 2005, the Thyssen was thrust into the global spotlight for a less-than-desirable reason when Claude Cassirer ("Claude"), a man of Jewish descent, filed an action against the Kingdom of Spain and the Thyssen, seeking restitution of the Pissarro masterpiece, Rue St.-Honore, Apres-Midi, Effet de Pluie (the “Painting” or the “Pissarro”).^[3] The Painting, it turned out, was stolen by a Nazi agent in 1939 from Claude’s grandmother, Lilly Cassirer (“Lilly”).

After years of litigation, the case finally came to a close on May 1, 2019. The case bounced from the Central District Court of California to the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals and back again. U.S. District Judge John Walter ultimately ruled in favor of the defendant, the Thyssen, concluding that the museum was the lawful owner of the painting under Spanish law. Judge Walter, however, did express his displeasure by noting that the Thyssen’s refusal to return the painting to the Cassirer family was “inconsistent with the Washington Principles and the Terezin Declaration,” both of which the Kingdom of Spain endorsed.^[4] Judge Walter wrote, resignedly, that the “Court ha[d] no alternative but to apply Spanish law and cannot force the Kingdom of Spain or [the Thyssen] to comply with its moral commitments.”^[5] With that, the likelihood of Pissarro’s masterpiece returning to the Cassirers anytime soon became impossibly slim.