Ilê Sartuzi “steals” historical coin from the British Museum

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After a year of careful planning, last month, the artist secretly replaced a 1645 silver coin minted in Newark during the English Civil War with a fake replica last month through an act of legerdemain. He then walked out of the galleries with the coin and placed it in the museum’s donation box before leaving.

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Sleight of Hand, Sartuzi explains, delves into mythical trickster figures and explores the role of magic in the dynamics of money and currency. The coin he used in his piece, emblematic of the period's rampant counterfeiting and edge-trimming, serves as a historical metaphor for the broader issues of value and authenticity. Sartuzi argues that the "fetishistic nature of money" and the concept of "momentary suspension of disbelief" are intricately linked with the essence of magic.

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A British Museum spokesperson has stated that the police will be notified about Sartuzi’s actions. However, arguably, the artist did not technically break the law. The Theft Act of 1968 states that “any person who without lawful authority removes from the building or its grounds the whole or part of any article displayed” is committing theft. According to the British Museum’s policy, visitors “must not touch any collection object on open display, including sculpture or stonework, except as part of our organised events, which include Touch tours and object handling desks.” Since the coin never left the building and was handled at an “object handling desk,” it did not constitute a legal breach.

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Sartuzi told Hyperallergic that his work “opens a discussion around theft and looting in both a historical context and from a neocolonial perspective within contemporary cultural institutions.” For decades, the British Museum has faced criticism over the origins of its collection, which comprises at least 8 million objects. Many artefacts were “acquired”—or, as critics argue, looted—during the British Empire's colonial past, often under coercive circumstances. Notable examples include the Elgin Marbles from Greece, the Benin Bronzes from Nigeria, and the Rosetta Stone from Egypt, which critics argue were unlawfully taken.

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The British Museum defends its holdings with complex and often convoluted arguments, claiming that the artefacts were acquired legally according to the rules at the time and that they are best displayed within the context of a global collection, and that they might consider lending items to their countries of origin. While the museum emphasises its ability to care for these objects, it is widely assumed that this is their justification on the matter. However, one argument they have not been able to refute is that many of these artefacts should be repatriated out of respect for the civilisations that created them.

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Compounding these concerns, the Museum last year saw about 2,000 items go missing or be lost, with some reportedly sold on eBay. Dr. Peter Higgs, a senior curator in the museum's Greek and Rome department, was dismissed following suspicions of his involvement in the disappearances. The museum has initiated legal proceedings over the alleged thefts, which Higgs denies.

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This situation raises questions about the museum's credibility and ethics. It seems particularly hypocritical for the British Museum to resist returning artefacts to their countries of origin while grappling with severe mismanagement issues within its own collection. To further underscore the irony, the museum is attempting to address these issues through a recovery program and has successfully recouped over 626 pieces.

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Sleight of Hand ties into the tradition of late 1960s institutional critique, a practice in which art itself becomes a tool to critique the power structures and economic foundations of institutions. Pioneers such as Hans Haacke and Andrea Fraser used their practices to expose the often opaque and problematic inner workings of institutions, revealing how they are intertwined with power and money, shedding light on the influence of money and authority on cultural production. Many of the issues they addressed almost 60 years ago are very much pertinent today.

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Sartuzi’s work ties into this tradition through its formal simplicity and conceptual depth. The piece operates as both a literal and metaphorical trick, leveraging the elegance of a magic trick to comment on institutional hypocrisy. The seemingly trivial act of theft—a gesture that might initially appear almost silly in its banality—serves as a profound critique of the museum’s practices. As the artist has said, it reflects Francis Alÿs’s motto “maximum effort, minimum result,” highlighting the disproportionate impact of a seemingly small gesture against a backdrop of complex institutional issues.

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Sleight of Hand is not only a trick but also a short-circuit, redirecting attention back to the institution's own historical and contemporary issues. It provocatively addresses the role of law and property in legitimising the foundational practices of “universal museums,” denouncing imperialist roots while speculating on the organisation and administration of such institutions. The choice of a coin as the focal point underscores an interest in the nature of money as a social construct, revealing the fetishistic character of currency and its connection to the magical suspension of disbelief. Through this seemingly minor act, Sartuzi inverts power dynamics, flipping the relationship between colonial authority and its subjects, and prompts a re-evaluation of institutional accountability and ethics.

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Its simple, almost trivial gesture—an elegant magic trick that might seem inconsequential— pushes forward a profound critique of institutional hypocrisy. By orchestrating a seemingly illegal act of theft, Sartuzi mirrors the very issues the museum is criticised for—both in its questionable acquisition practices and its management of the collection. If the museum is intent on holding Sartuzi accountable, it raises a crucial question: shouldn’t the institution also be held accountable for its historical and ongoing mishandling of its collection, including the dubious legitimacy of retaining many of its artefacts?

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