Three works from the Harvard Art Museum: How I Introduced Art Law to Educate Visitors

July 22, 2025

By Hannah Gadway

Art law is intriguing for those already invested in the realm of law, but can also be an educational tool that can help general museum visitors understand how museums function and the significance of certain pieces in art history. In this article, I will walk through how I specifically used my “Art and Law” Student Guide tour at the Harvard Art Museums to teach about how the law is used to protect art, artists, and art collectors.

Please note that I was part of the Student Guide program at the Harvard Art Museums, which is an interdisciplinary program that focuses on the individual perspectives of Harvard College students.^[1] This overview of my tour is meant to reflect my individual interests, not a prescribed set of highlights.

The law has a significant impact on the art world, as it interacts with issues such as taxation, theft, contracts, insurance, and more. The following is a look at three pieces at the Harvard Art Museums to explore art law, and, through their stories, showed how the law is used to protect art, artists, and art collectors. Doing so allowed me to educate visitors about basic aspects of art law, strengthen their museum literacy, and showcase how certain artworks fit into the broader narrative of art history. Let’s walk through the pieces on my tour and how art law allowed me to teach about each artwork.

Protecting Artists: Nocturne in Blue and Silver by James Abbott McNeil Whistler (1871-72)

James Abbott McNeil Whistler, a 19th-century American artist who lived in London, was a bit of a character.^[2] He pushed the limits of Victorian painting and the limits of acceptable eccentricity.^[3] His  Nocturne in Blue and Silver (1871-72) at the Harvard Art Museums, exemplifies his idiosyncratic style and independent spirit, as it is an abstract take on a riverbank, rendered as a hazy and entirely subjective depiction of Whistler’s viewpoint.

Not everyone liked Whistler. In fact, some people downright disliked his unique take on painting. John Ruskin, an eminent Victorian art critic, was one of those doubters.^[4] At the Grosvenor Gallery in 1877, he saw one of Whistler’s other nocturnes displayed — Nocturne in Black and Gold, the Falling Rocket, now at the Detroit Institute of Arts — and took to the publication Fors Clavigera to complain.^[5] He wrote: “I have seen and heard much of Cockney impudence before now, but never expected to hear a coxcomb ask two hundred guineas for flinging a pot of paint in the public’s face.”^[6]

Ruskin found that Whistler was purposefully mocking the art world. The critic was popular, so this writing had an effect, and Whistler’s reputation was substantially damaged. In order to combat Ruskin’s claims, Whistler met with solicitor James Anderson Rose and sued Ruskin for libel in 1877 in London’s High Court of Justice, Queen’s Bench Division.^[7]

As I explained this story to museum visitors, I also outlined the legal idea of libel. Libel includes written, published statements which are alleged to defame a named or identifiable individual in a manner which causes them loss in their trade or profession, or damages their reputation.^[8] A defamatory statement is presumed to be false unless the defendant can prove its truth.^[9] Allowable defenses for defendants are justification, honest opinion (previously known as fair comment), and privilege.^[10]

Since the case was about the specific field of the arts, a “special” jury of educated property-holders was assembled to decide if Whistler’s claim of libel could be substantiated.^[11] Part of the evidence used at the trial was Whistler’s own paintings, which were displayed to jurors for inspection. This evidence included the Harvard Art Museums’ Whistler painting. As I explained this story to visitors, I provided context as to why this courtroom drama had important legal and art historical significance.

It may seem obvious to us today that Whistler’s painting deserves to be called art, but in Victorian England, this was not so cut and dry. At that time, the value of a painting was highly tied to the hours used to execute a painting and the detail present in the end result.”^[12] Whistler directly challenged this idea, proclaiming that his art was a fleeting impression created in a day.^[13] Ruskin’s lawyer interrogated Whistler, “You ask two hundred guineas for two day’s work?” to which Whistler replied, “No. I ask it for the knowledge I have gained in the work of a lifetime.”^[14] On trial, Whistler defended the idea that the concept behind a piece of art can be just as important as the hours that an artist spends creating a work. This was an example of artists being able to use the law to protect themselves, and I explained that laws prohibiting libel can help artists maintain their reputations.

In the end, Whistler won this fight, although not most of his fees; he was only awarded a single farthing in damages. However, his case did have a lasting impact by both showing that an artist had the right to protect himself through the law and demonstrating that non-representational art had a place in the art world.

Delving into how this painting relates to art law helped me teach museum goers both how the law protects artists and why Whistler and his work are significant in the history of Western art. Artists are protected by the law in different ways, as their copyright is upheld, their property rights are protected, and their freedom of expression is shielded. Here, we see how the courtroom is not only a place to solve disputes, but also to create new ideas and discussions. In many ways, aesthetics were on trial just as much here as Ruskin and Whistler. As he defended himself in court from libel, Whistler also paved the way for the acceptance of impressionistic art in English society. The history of Whistler’s painting demonstrates how legal problems, like deciding what is art and how much an artist can define themselves, still have ramifications today.

Protecting (and Educating About) Art: Prince Shōtoku at Age Two (circa 1292)

One of the most common questions that I encountered on my tours was: “How did this get here?”

Many visitors at museums across the country don’t know that that information is normally right on the label of a work. At the Harvard Art Museums, I talked about how ownership at museums is established and utilized for teaching about our artworks.

Prince Shōtoku at Age Two is over 700 years old, and captivates almost everyone who walks into the Harvard Art Museums galleries.^[15] The wooden statue depicts Prince Shōtoku, an important figure in Japanese Buddhism, praying at the age of two.^[16] On the Harvard Art Museums website (and on the label in the galleries), one can learn about the ownership of this work by reading its provenance label:

[Yamanaka Shoji Co., Ltd, Awata Kyoto (1936)], sold; to Ellery Sedgwick, Beverly, MA, (1936-1960), passed; to his wife, Marjorie Russell, Beverly, MA (1960-1971), inherited; by Ellery Sedgwick, Jr., Gates Mills, Ohio, (1971-1991), inherited; by Walter Sedgwick, Woodside, CA, (1991-2019), partial and promised gift; to the Harvard Art Museums.^[17]

How does this line of information help me teach about this little statue of Prince Shōtoku? Firstly, it helps me explain the concept of provenance and the origins of this specific artwork. As I explain to visitors, provenance is “the recorded journey of an artwork from its origin through one or more owners to the present day.”^[18] Provenance can help museums establish legal — as well as ethical — claims over pieces in their collection.^[19]

Turning back to the provenance string of Prince Shōtoku; in 1930, Harvard graduate Ellery Sedgwick made his first trip to Japan, where he saw this small statue. In 1936, he went to the local dealer Yamanaka and Co. and purchased the statue, which was then sent to the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.^[20] One day, a visiting curator called Mr. Sedgwick, as he found that the statue was “rustling.”^[21] With permission from the owner, the Museum of Fine Arts opened a hole in the base of the statue, and found a unique surprise: Prince Shōtoku was hollow! The inside of the statue revealed over 70 tiny devotional objects, from scraps of paper to other miniature sculptures.^[22]

This story is very well-documented, proving a direct line of ownership from the object’s origins in Japan to the galleries of Cambridge today. The authenticity of the statue was confirmed by conservators’ technical research, as the tiny objects inside proved that the work was created around 1292 (making it one of the oldest statues of its kind). Of course, other questions affect provenance research, like ethical boundaries. The MFA’s choice to cut into a Buddhist relic is controversial in light of today’s provenance methods, and non-destructive techniques are now preferred.^[23] The standards of provenance research tend to shift, and the legal ability to cut into a statue is not the same as the standard museum practice (and those standards have drastically shifted in the century-wide span between Sedgwick’s purchase and today).

Now the piece is a partial and promised gift to the Harvard Art Museums, and a staple of the galleries. As I explain to visitors, this provenance history serves a legal and educational purpose. On the legal side, provenance research ensures that art is not illegally held by an individual or institution. It also serves an educational purpose. Through tracking Prince Shōtoku’s journey, we understand that he is one of the oldest statues of his kind, which allows us to highlight his importance in the history of Buddhist art.

The law preserves the rightful places of artworks and also ensures that we can tell their full stories. Beyond that, provenance research can bring museums together, as an exhibition exploring the statue’s origins united American and Japanese curators, and Sedgwick’s descendant described the piece as “an ambassador to the world.”^[24]

Protecting Art Collectors and Collections: Self-Portrait Dedicated to Paul Gauguin by Vincent van Gogh (1888)

One of the most famous pieces at the Harvard Art Museums is its Vincent van Gogh piece, Self-Portrait Dedicated to Paul Gauguin. Visitors want to know everything about the contents of the painting, but I use my tour to take a step back and look around at the other pieces in the collection and consider who brought them to the Museums.

I find that helping our visitors understand how art museums acquire work and how the law can protect art collectors and donors can help deepen museum literacy. Museum literacy is working knowledge of what happens in museums, from understanding the role of visitors to the capabilities of curators.^[25] Fostering museum literacy is a big goal of many museum educators, as it can help visitors feel more comfortable and empower them to have fulfilling visits to museums in the future.^[26]

In 1974, Maurice Wertheim, Harvard class of 1906, gave a bequest to the Harvard Art Museums consisting of 43 pieces of art by various world-class artists, from Picasso to Monet.^[27] As Cornell Law School’s Legal Encyclopedia explains, a bequest is “a gift of personal property made through a will.” Bequests normally include personal property, rather than real property, and are subject to certain stipulations. The Wertheim Bequest has a key restriction; it requires that all of the pieces be held together in the same gallery.^[28] Any packing, transport, unpacking, installation, deinstallation, repacking, and shipment of all of the objects in the collections must be completed within 3 months.

Wertheim may have had such specific instructions due to how he acquired the van Gogh painting. Wertheim’s acquisition of van Gogh’s self-portrait was fraught with controversy.^[29] In the collection of the Neue Staatsgalerie, Munich since 1919, it was denounced by the Nazis along with other examples of modern art as “degenerate” and sold at auction in 1939 in Switzerland.^[30] Many collectors refused to purchase works from this sale, not wishing to participate in any transaction with the Nazis,^[31] and Wertheim — who would be the president of the American Jewish Committee beginning in 1941^[32] — faced a dilemma. Although Wertheim detested the Nazis, he found saving the painting to be justifiable, as he was preserving it for future generations.

The legal stipulations surrounding Wertheim’s bequest, like the fact that it must stay together in the galleries and be constantly displayed, preserve the collector’s aim to provide visitors access to art. I used the history of this storied collection to show how the law can help preserve the wills of collectors even after their deaths. Art law also allowed me to delve into the background of so-called Nazi degenerate art and how art has been labelled by certain groups throughout history.

In Conclusion: Art Law as a Tool for Museum Educators

The three pieces on my tour at the Harvard Art Museums were supplemented with conversations about the law. I used concepts like libel, provenance, and estate planning to help build museum literacy and delve into the importance of these artworks in their wider historical contexts. Art law can be a tool for museum educators that can empower visitors to feel more knowledgeable about artworks and the function of museums and the law. In sum, in the museum, art law is (should be) on display for everyone.

Suggested Readings

• Jen Thum and Sarah Lieberman, “Fostering Museum Literacy and Museum-Going Identity at the Harvard Art Museums,” Index Magazine (2024), https://harvardartmuseums.org/article/fostering-museum-literacy-and-museum-going-identity-at-the-harvard-art-museums.
• John O’Brian, Degas to Matisse: The Maurice Wertheim Collection, Harry N. Abrams Publishers and the Fogg Art Museum (1988), https://archive.org/details/degastomatissema00fogg/page/n5/mode/2up.
• Linda Merrill, A Pot of Paint: Aesthetics on Trial in Whistler v Ruskin, Smithsonian Institution Press in collaboration with the Freer Gallery of Art, Smithsonian Institution (1992), https://archive.org/details/potofpaintaesthe0000merr.

About the Author

Hannah Gadway (Harvard College ’25, Harvard Law School Class of 2028) is the  Center for Art Law 2025 Outreach Coordinator. While attending Harvard College, Hannah helped generate interest in art on campus by working as a Student Guide at the Harvard Art Museums and the Co-President of the Harvard Undergraduate Law Review.

Reference:

1. Anmol K. Grewal, “Ho Family Student Guide Program at the Harvard Art Museums: A Unique and Interdisciplinary Approach to Art,” The Harvard Crimson (2024), available at https://www.thecrimson.com/article/2024/12/3/harvard-art-museums-ho-student-guide-program-spotlight-tours/. ↑
2. “James McNeill Whistler,” Smithsonian American Art Museum (2025), available at https://americanart.si.edu/artist/james-mcneill-whistler-5349. ↑
3. Linda Merrill, A Pot of Paint: Aesthetics on Trial in Whistler v Ruskin, Smithsonian Institution Press in collaboration with the Freer Gallery of Art, Smithsonian Institution (1992), p. 84, available at https://archive.org/details/potofpaintaesthe0000merr. ↑
4. Demie Kim, “When James Abbott McNeil Whistler Sued His Harshest Critics — and Won,” Artsy (2018), available at https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-james-abbott-mcneill-whistler-sued-harshest-critic-won. ↑
5. Merrill, p. 47 ↑
6. Id., p. 47 ↑
7. Id., p. 58 ↑
8. “Defamation,” Wex, Cornell Law School Legal Information Institute (accessed 2025), available at https://www.law.cornell.edu/wex/defamation. ↑
9. Id. ↑
10. Id. ↑
11. Merrill, p. 66 ↑
12. Id., p. 219 ↑
13. Id., 150 ↑
14. Id., p. 148 ↑
15. “2019.122: Prince Shōtoku at Age Two (Shōtoku Taishi Nisaizō),” Harvard Art Museums (accessed 2025), available at https://harvardartmuseums.org/collections/object/209642?position=0. ↑
16. Dr. Rachel Saunders and Angela Chang, “Prince Shōtoku at Age Two,” Smarthistory (accessed 2025), available at https://smarthistory.org/shotoku/. ↑
17. Id. ↑
18. Luke Kelly, “What Is Provenance—and Why Does It Matter?” Utah Museum of Fine Arts (accessed 2025), available at https://umfa.utah.edu/what-is-provenance. ↑
19. Id. ↑
20. “The Mysteries of Prince Shōtoku,” Harvard Art Museums (2018), available at https://harvardartmuseums.org/article/the-mysteries-of-prince-shotoku. ↑
21. Id. ↑
22. Id. ↑
23. Id. ↑
24. Katie Aberbach, “Reunited with a ‘transcendent’ figure,” The Harvard Gazette (2019), available at https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2019/06/reunion-with-shotoku-sculpture-alumnus-gifted-to-harvard-stirs-memories/. ↑
25. Jen Thum and Sarah Lieberman, “Fostering Museum Literacy and Museum-Going Identity at the Harvard Art Museums,” Index Magazine (2024), available at https://harvardartmuseums.org/article/fostering-museum-literacy-and-museum-going-identity-at-the-harvard-art-museums. ↑
26. Id. ↑
27. “The Maurice Wertheim Collection,” Harvard Art Museums (accessed 2025), available at https://harvardartmuseums.org/tour/80/slide/1895. ↑
28. Id. ↑
29. John O’Brian, Degas to Matisse: The Maurice Wertheim Collection, Harry N. Abrams Publishers and the Fogg Art Museum (1988), p. 26, https://archive.org/details/degastomatissema00fogg/page/n5/mode/2up. ↑
30. Id., p. 26 ↑
31. Id., p. 26 ↑
32. Id., p. 27 ↑