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An ancient Apollo statue landed in Cleveland and touched off an international outcry

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Even as the Tutela Patrimonio Cuturale, known as the TPC, went after the major players, there'd been rumblings that Cleveland was on its short list of targeted museums. During the trial of dealer Robert Hecht, the Italians cited eight pieces Hecht had sold to Cleveland. And after the Metropolitan Museum agreed to return six works, Maurizio Fiorilli, an Italian prosecutor, noted that his country's focus was moving toward larger museums in Ohio.

But while Princeton, Boston, and Virginia rushed to make conciliatory announcements, Cleveland was largely silent. "I think the whole issue with the Apollo might have something to do with how they're choosing to deal with this," says one insider with close ties to the Cleveland museum.

The art world could only guess which pieces the Italians might have in their sights. Topping the list was the Medea calyx krater, a vase created in the fourth century B.C., one of the few works to have survived the period.

Up until 1990, the vase was part of the private collection of brothers Nelson and William Hunt, whose family made its fortune in oil. In the 1980s, they'd been caught violating securities laws by trying to corner the silver market. Each was fined $10 million.

To help cover the bill, the brothers put the Medea up for sale. Cleveland jumped, allegedly paying $400,000. The problem, however, was that the Hunts had acquired the work through Bob Hecht.

Cleveland had also bought a fourth century B.C. oil flask from Hecht. The piece features the Greek god Pan presenting a hare to an elegantly dressed woman. During Hecht's trial, the Italians alleged that the flask was one of 94 pieces the dealer had illegally trafficked.

But Cleveland officials refused to publicly discuss Italy's inquiries. Then late last year, Suzan Mazur, an investigative journalist who first reported the Medea's suspect provenance, produced a list of the items the TPC wanted returned from Cleveland. It covered more than 27 works — including a marble bust of Emperor Balbinus from the third century A.D. and a bronze statue of an Etruscan warrior from around 500 B.C.

Also on the list was the Apollo. It seems the Italians believed that the statue was rightfully theirs, claiming that it had been recovered from its national waters.

If the list was accurate, it meant the TPC were hoping to secure millions worth of art from Cleveland, gutting the museum's modest Roman collection.

Cleveland refuses to comment, other than to say it's held discussions with Italy. "It's supposed to be a confidential document," says spokesman James Kopniske. "I don't even know what's on it."

But talking to Bennett, one gets the sense that the museum won't be quick to wave a white flag. "Our policy is really straightforward," he says. "Anyone at anytime" can protest an item's status. And "If someone has information that proves [the piece was illegally purchased], the museum has an obligation to look at that evidence . . . The Cleveland Museum of Art wants to know as much as possible about the items in our exhibits."

At the same time, Bennett claims that all pieces are vigorously researched. Just because a dealer is charged doesn't mean all his deals were tainted. Hecht's case is ongoing.

But it's worth noting that in the half-dozen or so instances that a work has been challenged, Cleveland has yet to return a piece.

Today, the Apollo rests securely in the nether regions of the museum. There it will sit until the doors open in 2010 to a new Greek and Roman exhibit.

Meanwhile, life continues in its normal frenzy for Bennett. Between organizing new exhibits, he's working on a book about the Apollo. And later this month, he'll be touring Europe again.

He's very excited. After all, he says, brown eyes sparkling like winter ice, you never know what treasures might be unearthed.

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