In a fulsome letter dated 11 February 2017, Prince Charles (as he then was) thanked British socialite James Stunt for lending 17 paintings to Dumfries House, the Scottish mansion Charles narrowly saved from being sold in 2007 and which is now part of the charitable King’s Foundation.
The letter, topped with the crest of Clarence House, partly reads: “Dear James. It was a great sadness that you were unable to come to Clarence House the other day when Malcolm Rogers appeared with your marvellous pictures. I cannot tell you how exciting it was to see these paintings—especially the two Van Dycks—and it will be a great treat to have them at Dumfries House.
“…Your kindness and generosity are truly remarkable and I appreciate such a gesture more than you can ever know… I do hope that during one of my forthcoming visits to Dumfries House you will be able to join me and see all your magnificent artwork on display?” It is signed “Yours most sincerely, Charles”.
The “marvellous” paintings—which included a “Monet”, a “Salvador Dalí”, a “Chagall” and a “Picasso”—were among the works lent by Stunt, in a loan agreement signed by him and by the Prince’s aide at the time, Michael Fawcett. But it turned out that several of the paintings were fakes, recently turned out by a convicted art forger by the name of Tony Tetro.
The Royal Stunt
Now a new documentary, The Royal Stunt, brilliantly directed by Kief Davidson, unwraps this complex tale of counterfeiting, disappearing paintings and misrepresentation. (Disclosure: I make a brief appearance in the film).
The film is dominated by two people: Tetro, the baby-faced forger, now looking a bit worse for wear and dreaming of retiring to Costa Rica; and Stunt, who incidentally is the godson of the gangster Terry Adams.
In the documentary Tetro says he thought he was making the works just for Stunt, but during a visit to London, saw paperwork that revealed they were being passed off as genuine and loaned to Dumfries house.
The film plays extensive, foul-mouthed social media rants—since deleted—by Stunt, the one-time playboy who openly admits to snorting cocaine and using sex workers.
Initially, Stunt was happy to show off his art collection to an interviewer—Tetro says he recognises some of his handiwork there as well—and proudly exhibits around 20 framed letters from Prince Charles, thanking him for his loans. These royal letters are genuine. The provenance letters legitimising the Dalí, the Monet and the Picasso, however, were not—these works were also fakes.
The film traces how journalists at the Mail on Sunday worked with the filmmakers to unpick the story, contacting the beefy bodyguard who was employed by Stunt—and his head of security, both of whom dish the dirt on their former boss.
Extremely regrettable
It all is highly embarrassing for the Prince’s Foundation (as it was then known). The foundation stated at the time that the affair was “extremely regrettable” and that the pictures had all been returned to Stunt. And yet three Tetro paintings have apparently never been found, with Stunt denying he has them.
The film also clarifies why Stunt did it in the first place: by putting vastly inflated values on the art, he hoped to borrow millions of dollars against them. The producer, Giampiero Ambrosi, interviews a broker who tried to place them, only to realise that the $300m valuation was a fantasy.
What remains unclear, and rather shocking, is how King Charles or his advisers could have been hoodwinked so comprehensively. The monarch has one of the greatest art collections in the world; he didn’t really need these extra paintings as Dumfries House is already well stocked with art. And why did his advisers not take a closer look at the works?
As for the current location of the paintings, the film does not say, and Stunt has gone to ground, refusing a later attempt to interview him. Also refusing to be interviewed is Malcolm Rogers, the former director of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, who “promoted” no fewer than 14 works from “circle of”, “studio of” or “follower of” to autograph works, thereby greatly increasing their value. Fawcett did not respond to requests for comment and Clarence House issued the statement mentioned above.
“Investigating the film was endlessly interesting, with new twists and turns at every step,” says producer Ambrosi. “What strikes me is that people who could have or should have blown the whistle at every turn either actively colluded or simply averted their eyes.”
The Royal Stunt is currently in the process of partnering with distributors.
