Periodically I like to make note of books about art law that I find exceptional. Art law is many things to many people, and one of the interesting things in surveying the literature is seeing what selection various authors make in terms of their subject matter. I reviewed the excellent Art Collecting Legal Handbook by Massimo Sterpi and Bruno Boesch recently, and the strength of that book was their choice to take a set of questions recurring in art collecting in particular to experts around the world. It’s a fantastic resource for collectors and lawyers.
Another of the best such books in recent years is Visual Arts and the Law: a Handbook for Professionals by Judith Prowda. Prowda is a professor at the Sotheby’s Institute in New York, and counsel to the innovative art law collective Stropheus. The launch party for her book at the Sotheby’s Institute was the occasion for just about the most thought-provoking exchange about fair use that I can remember. The book enjoys a refreshingly straightforward organizational scheme, with three primary sections: Artists’ Rights, Artists’ Relationships, and Commercial Aspects of Art.
Prowda has renowned expertise in copyright and moral rights, and she begins her book with these themes. One aspects of my own arts education that I valued most was the focus on the object as the starting point: what is it? What color is it? What shape, texture is it? Prowda shrewdly begins her examination of visual arts and the law by discussing what the law defines as art. Those definitions are what give rise (or don’t) to the rights that then have to be negotiated and enforced. And this discussion is masterful, surveying the elements of copyright and moral rights arising out of visual art. Particularly helpful is her review of resale rights; with the Berne Convention many other aspects of copyright have been standardized among treaty nations, but droite de suite remains an exception about which there is little agreement. Anyone struggling with the right approach to this question will at the best least have an informed opinion after reading this section.
Probably the briefest section of the book is the one dealing with commercial relationships. Don’t be deceived: for practicing lawyers this may well be the section you consult most. A contract is a relationship, as this section underscores. In thirty-odd concise pages, Prowda reviews the elements of agreements (including, again, the starting questions of what gives rise to rights in the first place), parties’ duties to each other, and goes over example after example of common and recurring provisions. Like an evidence treatise to be pulled out each time you’re trying to articulate a hearsay objection or response, this portion of my copy of the book is the most dog-eared.
Lastly, the book treats commercial relationships. Auctions, dealers, expert opinions, and stolen art all get to-the-point treatment.
What I love about this book is that I wish I could have read it as an undergrad and a young museum professional. I wish I could have read it in law school or as a new lawyer. Its writing is so clear and precise that its usefulness extends well beyond non-lawyers, but equally useful for practitioners in the field. Indeed, its subtitle is so apt for this reason. It is not for legal professionals only, or museum professionals only, or academic professionals only. It is for anyone engaged professionally in the arts. If you are an art history student, a lawyer considering expanding your practice in art law, or an expert, you should read this book. And then the next time you’re wondering about something, read it again.
