A Big Law art lawyer on Nazi-era looted art, forgeries and secret commissions

From forgeries to looted art and multimillion-pound disputes, Pierre Valentin’s work sits at the intersection of art and law. As co-head of art law, heritage and cultural property at Fieldfisher, he splits his time commuting between London and Venice while advising collectors, galleries, museums and governments across the global art market.

His route into the field began with an unexpected opportunity at the global auction house Sotheby’s in the mid-90s.

“I was extremely lucky that, as a junior lawyer, I was hired by Sotheby's in London to be their first true in-house counsel for Europe,” he says.

Valentin emphasises that Sotheby’s wasn’t what it is today and while it was there that he learned the trade over more than six years, it was almost more by chance than design that he got the job in the first place.

“They had no reason really to choose me because, at the time, I was working in-house at an oil company. You can't imagine anything more different than oil and art, but somehow I managed to persuade them.”

After Sotheby’s, he worked in tech briefly, but “my heart was really in the art world,” he says. “Art is part of my DNA.”

A global market

The art world is also very global. “There's hardly any transaction that's purely UK. For example, right now I'm buying a piece of art in New York, the seller is in Michigan and the buyer is in Canada,” he says.

As to why an English lawyer is advising on that transaction, he says “I have no idea.” But the buyer is a former student of his from about 20 years ago whom he has stayed in touch with. “Whenever he has an international art issue, he calls me.”

Valentin has also taught classes at Bocconi Business School in Milan, the Sotheby’s Institute, the London School of Economics and Christie’s Education. For the past ten years, he has also travelled to Beirut, Lebanon once a year to teach at the local business school.

What counts as art

The tax code divides art into categories such as works of art, collectibles and antiques. But another definition, he says, is simply “anything that the auction houses would sell”. “They sell classic cars - I think that’s art, but most people would say it’s something you drive. It’s a collectible, and so is fine wine.”

One notable case he acted on involved American video artist Bill Viola and the estate of Dan Flavin, a pioneering minimalist artist known for sculptures made from fluorescent and neon lights.

A gallery in London had imported the works, which were taxed on import at around 5%, the VAT rate applied to works of art at the time. HMRC audited the gallery and argued the items were not works of art. The video screens, plugs, wires and neon tubes should instead be taxed at 20% as electronics, they said.

“The gallery had declared the art at half a million here, half a million there,” he says.

Imagine you are an artist and you’re told, well, what you’re doing doesn’t qualify as art...

“On behalf of the gallery, I took HMRC to court and the question was: are these items works of art, or are they just electrical parts?”

“Imagine you are an artist and you’re told, well, what you’re doing doesn’t qualify as art - it’s just bits and pieces of electrical goods?”

In the end, the gallery succeeded in persuading the Court of Appeal that the works were indeed art.

With artificial intelligence, that definition may expand further and become hazier. “AI is such a new field, and for lawyers, it’s a minefield.”

Copyright may be dead

He believes AI could fundamentally challenge existing copyright law.

“I think AI has shown that copyright may be coming to an end. Copyright that was introduced in the 19th century may not be fit for purpose any longer,” he says.

In his view, new frameworks may be needed to protect artists and ensure they can still earn a living from their work.

Ivory ban impact

Regulation has also reshaped parts of the art market in recent years. The UK’s Ivory Act in 2018 and wider restrictions on trading endangered species have had significant consequences for certain dealers, particularly those selling artworks incorporating these materials.

“Japanese art and, to a lesser extent, Chinese art, have really suffered as a result of these bans because so many artworks from those countries contain ivory and other endangered species. It's not an issue for most people, but for a small segment of the art market, that was a big event,” he says.

Art restitution

Another area of his work focuses on disputes involving looted or displaced cultural property, particularly art taken during the Nazi era. He also advises on the repatriation of cultural objects removed from their countries of origin, whether during the colonial period or through illegal export.

More recently, he co-founded a project with several colleagues focused on resolving disputes involving Nazi-looted art.

“We help primarily the current possessors of artworks that are discovered to have been looted to resolve the issue through negotiation,” he explains. “The aim is to find fair solutions so that the work’s history is addressed and the artwork can ultimately return to the open market with a clean title.”

If a work suddenly appears in one of those databases, its market value is essentially zero.

Nazi-era claims remain especially active, often involving disputes between current possessors - who often acquired the item in good faith and paid the fair market value on the open market - and the heirs of owners who were dispossessed during the Nazi period. Similar issues arise from other turbulent periods, including the Franco regime in Spain and the Mussolini era in Italy.

“A good outcome is where the parties come together and reach a fair and equitable solution,” he says. “That might involve selling the artwork and dividing the proceeds, the current possessor keeping the work and compensating the heirs, or the artwork being returned with payment flowing the other way.”

For current owners, the stakes can be high. Works linked to Nazi-era looting are often listed in public databases, which can effectively wipe out their market value.

“If a work suddenly appears in one of those databases, its market value is essentially zero - nobody will touch it with a bargepole,” he says. “Resolving the issue allows it to be removed from the register and return to the open market.”

Kitchen table projects

Outside of his main practice, he has founded several non-profits he calls “kitchen table projects”.

One association he founded brings together professionals across the art world - from accountants and insurers to valuers - to share knowledge and experiences. The forum has since grown to include chapters in London, New York and Milan.

He later created a network for scholars and professionals working on catalogue raisonnés, the complete inventories of an artist’s work.

“It’s the reference point used by experts, collectors, auction houses and dealers to check whether the artwork they have in front of them is authentic,” he explains.

I’ve always had a connection with artists and an affinity with artists.

His interest in artists themselves has also led to another initiative. “I’ve always had a connection with artists and an affinity with artists,” he says. “Now I run a project with others that focuses on designing and managing artists’ legacies.”

The project grew out of his observation that the legacy of many artists can become fragmented or lost after their death.

“I’ve seen too many situations where artists pass away and their body of work disappears - either because nobody makes decisions or the wrong decisions are made. Planning and managing an artist’s legacy is an art in itself.”

Breaking in

Art is a very niche area of law.

“It sort of breaks my heart because almost once a week someone writes to me saying they really want to become an art lawyer and asking if I can give them some advice.”

“It’s hard. I was lucky,” he says.

While auction houses, museums and law firms with art departments are all potential routes, he says that they don’t tend to hire junior lawyers and generally, there are very few seats.

It sort of breaks my heart because almost once a week someone writes to me saying they really want to become an art lawyer...

He suggests that the best way into art law may be through gaining a few years of experience in an area that has “a door open into art law” such as litigation, intellectual property, tax, private client work or international commercial transactions.

“And whilst you do that, network as much as you can. Go to art fairs, gallery openings, auctions. Unfortunately, the art world is still an environment where it’s about who you know.

“If you become a good lawyer after three or four years, you have something to sell and know the right people, at some point an opportunity may arise.”

‍Don’t do it for the money

Though, he says don’t do it for the money. “If you want to become a multi-millionaire, don’t become an art lawyer.”

“It’s quite a difficult area to make money. Museums pay very little, the commercial galleries and auction houses pay a bit more, but they don't pay huge amounts. And even in private practice to make it work is hard work.”

If you want to become a multi-millionaire, don’t become an art lawyer.

“You need to know what you're getting yourself into, but it's an absolutely fascinating field. The art world is full of interesting characters, and that’s what makes the work worthwhile, at least for me.”

“I couldn't be a lawyer working for large corporates because I would be bored to tears,” he says.

Personal collecting

“If money were no object, I would be buying on an obsessive scale, but I can’t really afford my own taste,” he says.

He is particularly drawn to classic cars and oriental rugs. “I love carpets and textiles, and while very different, also classic cars.”

Without the budget to match his taste, he turns instead to flea markets. “I love them,” he says.

For him, collecting is about personal taste, not financial return.

“I would never advise anyone to buy art as an investment because I don’t believe in that. Buy what you love and if you’re lucky, maybe a few of the paintings or works you bought will in 10 years’ time be worth 10 or maybe 100 times what you paid for them.”

“That’s part of the joy of collecting - loving what you buy, but also hoping someday your eye would have been a good one.”