New Book Tells How U.S. Soldiers Saved Works of Art During World War II |
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| Written by Simon Langworthy |
| Monday, 28 September 2009 01:32 |
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Working on
the front lines in conditions of great deprivation and danger, these unlikely
soldiers stripped the great galleries of their incomparable holdings and sent
them into safety by any means they could; when trucks could not be requisitioned
or “borrowed,” a Tiepolo altarpiece might make its midnight journey across the
countryside balanced in the front basket of a bicycle. They blocked a Nazi
convoy of two hundred stolen paintings—including Danae, Titian’s voluptuous
masterpiece, an intended birthday present for Hermann Göring. They worked with
skeptical army strategists to make sure air raids didn’t take out the heart of
an ancient city, and patched up Renaissance palazzi and ancient churches whose
lead roofs were sometimes melted away by the savagery of the attacks, exposing
their frescoed interiors to the harsh Tuscan winters and blistering summers.
Sometimes they failed. But to an astonishing degree, they succeeded, and anyone
who marvels at Italy’s artistic riches today is witnessing their handiwork.
In the course of her research, Brey gained unprecedented access to private archives and primary sources, and the result is a book at once thorough and grandly entertaining—a revelatory take on a little-known chapter of World War II history. The Venus Fixers is an adventure story with the gorgeous tints of a Botticelli landscape as its backdrop. Ilaria Dagnini Brey Ilaria Dagnini Brey is a journalist and translator who was born in Padua, Italy. She now lives in New York City with her husband, Carter Brey, the principal cellist of the New York Philharmonic. This is her first book. Publishers Weekly They were a gaggle of misfits-nerdy, old, bookish and sometimes pompous and abrasive. Yet the group of Allied soldiers nicknamed "the Venus Fixers" believed that saving Italy's culture-from bombing, from Göring's coffers, from careless soldiers-was an essential component of the war effort. Initially, it was the Italians who tried to find safe havens for the art, and then the job fell to the Venus Fixers, who performed triage after an area was secured by the military. In one harrowing tale, Brey describes how the Venus Fixers saved delicate manuscripts from being bulldozed along with rubble into the Arno. Often these artistic subversives were at odds with their own armies. In her first book, journalist and translator Brey isn't as skilled as one would like in bringing her soldiers to life on the page-a shame, given what a unique bunch they were and what an unusual task they had-but the book makes a strong case for what the Allies were fighting for in Italy: its history, and the artworks that continue to inspire us today. 8 pages of b&w illus. (Aug.2009) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved Click on logo below to add this article to your favorite Social Website ~ |
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Working on
the front lines in conditions of great deprivation and danger, these unlikely
soldiers stripped the great galleries of their incomparable holdings and sent
them into safety by any means they could; when trucks could not be requisitioned
or “borrowed,” a Tiepolo altarpiece might make its midnight journey across the
countryside balanced in the front basket of a bicycle. They blocked a Nazi
convoy of two hundred stolen paintings—including Danae, Titian’s voluptuous
masterpiece, an intended birthday present for Hermann Göring. They worked with
skeptical army strategists to make sure air raids didn’t take out the heart of
an ancient city, and patched up Renaissance palazzi and ancient churches whose
lead roofs were sometimes melted away by the savagery of the attacks, exposing
their frescoed interiors to the harsh Tuscan winters and blistering summers.
Sometimes they failed. But to an astonishing degree, they succeeded, and anyone
who marvels at Italy’s artistic riches today is witnessing their handiwork.

