Vuillard Fake or Fortune?

The art world, where paintings change hands for fortunes.

Selling at 95 million.

But for every known masterpiece there may be another

still waiting to be discovered.

Oh, my word.

They're known as "sleepers".

International art dealer Philip Mould hunts them down.

In the past, we looked AT pictures.

Now, almost, you can look THROUGH them.

Using cutting-edge science and investigative research,

we've teamed up to find long lost works by the great masters.

Wow.

The problem is, not every painting is quite what it seems.

When these paintings were thought to be genuine,

-how much were they worth?

-Millions.

It's a journey that can end in joy...

-Isn't that great?

-Yes, it is.

..or bitter disappointment.

I can't get my head round it, I really can't.

In this episode, could a chance find in a country sale room

be a long lost masterpiece by celebrated French artist Edouard Vuillard?

We're up against experts who are notoriously tough to convince.

-We have come across them before.

-Right.

-That's not going to be easy.

Our investigation takes us back to Jazz Age Paris.

To Geneva, where we gain access to a secret art vault.

Wow, the veil is lifted.

And to Amsterdam, to unearth the unexpected.

-I'm almost lost for words, to be honest!

-Speechless.

-Yes, I am!

But will we succeed where others have tried and failed?

-Ready?

-I think so.

Keith, you're looking pretty nervous.

We've come to a country sale room in the town of Diss, Norfolk.

All manner of curiosities are on offer here.

You never know what treasures might turn up in a place like this.

This is a bit different from the swanky West End galleries

you usually inhabit, Philip, isn't it?

I have to say, I love coming round auctions like this at the weekend.

Yeah, but it's in places like this

that some of the great art discoveries have been made.

Well, I always hope I'm going to find some kind of hidden gem

at an auction. I haven't yet, I have to say.

I mean, it's certainly true that the paintings we read about

that make huge sums of money are normally sold

in the major auction rooms, London, Paris, New York and what have you.

But occasionally, things have slipped through the net

and really good paintings can end up in places like this

and that's when fortunes can be made.

Writer Keith Tutt hoped he'd discovered a treasure here

back in 2007 when he saw a painting for sale by an artist

whose works normally only grace the big name auction houses.

-Hello, Keith.

-Hi there.

The picture was thought to be

by celebrated French painter Edouard Vuillard,

whose works usually sell for hundreds of thousands of pounds.

Well...

And yet here it was in a country sale room,

at a fraction of the price.

It's lovely.

So, two, what, three ladies sitting on a banquette,

on a bench seat at what looks like a Parisian cafe table

enjoying their coffee.

It has a feel of Paris, doesn't it?

It does, it does, a sort of 1920s Paris, maybe.

Philip, what do you think?

I'm already rather fascinated by this picture

because it looks a bit of a mess in that top left corner

when your eye goes to it, do you know what I mean?

All these sort of fragmentary colours and shapes.

But just in the last 20 seconds or 30 seconds,

it's begun to take shape.

It's begun to became rather more coherent.

And is Vuillard a particular love of yours?

Yes, he is. When I was at school, he was my favourite artist.

I was doing Art A level and I loved painting

and I loved Vuillard more than any other painter,

and I always said to myself, that if it were possible to get hold of a Vuillard,

if the opportunity arose, then I would love to take it.

I never thought that it would actually happen.

Keith is not alone in his esteem for Vuillard.

He's one of the leading lights of the French post-Impressionist movement.

Inspired by Degas and Gauguin, Vuillard's work spans

five decades from the late 19th century to the early 20th century,

when a new generation of painters experimented with colour and form.

Vuillard is best known for his intimate snapshots

of middle-class life.

His mother in her dressmaking shop.

Her seamstresses at work.

His friends at play.

After his death in 1940, Vuillard was overlooked for decades.

But in recent years, his name has been back on the rise.

At £4 million.

In 2009, this painting, The Dressmakers,

sold for a phenomenal £5.1 million. which could bode well for Keith.

So, what did you think, when you saw it in the auction?

I thought, "Wow."

My first question was, "Is it really a Vuillard?"

because it seemed very unlikely.

All I had to go on at this point was the style of the picture which,

I thought I knew Vuillard fairly well,

and it has a signature and it has a little plaque

that says "E Vuillard" and it looks very authentic.

-But how much did you pay in the end?

-About 11,000.

Which would be a very painful amount to have spent on a bad mistake,

but, of course, a fraction of what it's worth

-if you can prove it's by Vuillard.

-Yeah.

So, what's the snag then? Why was it so cheap?

Well, I guess the reason I discovered was the fact

that it isn't currently in the catalogue raisonne of Vuillard's work.

So, the official list of his works, and that painting's not in it.

-Not in it, no.

-Yeah, but I mean in art-world terms, that's like...

It's like a car without the engine.

I mean, you've got to have the paperwork to go with it.

If you can prove it, if the evidence can be marshalled for this,

it's surely worth a quarter of a million pounds.

It's a very attractive picture, it's got impact.

Or as they say in the trade, it's got "wall power".

Hopefully, Keith's £11,000 gamble was one worth taking.

The question is, is this a genuine Vuillard?

Looking at the brushstrokes here,

I think Keith just may have made a very astute purchase.

Now, we need to do tests,

but I just feel in my bones that this picture is right.

That's just my view,

but, for Keith, there's only one opinion that counts.

After I bought it, I contacted Christies and they gave me

an e-mail of someone who belonged to the committee that decides

the authenticity of Vuillard works

and works at the Wildenstein Institute.

-At the Wildenstein Institute?

-Mm.

-Oh, we have come across them before.

-Right.

That's not going to be easy.

The Wildenstein Institute is in charge of authenticating

the work of many of the world's most celebrated artists.

They publish catalogues raisonnes,

official lists of every genuine work by a particular artist.

If a painting isn't included in the Wildenstein catalogue,

its authenticity is questioned,

and the major auction houses won't touch it, vastly reducing its value.

Back in 2010, Philip and I thought we'd put together

enough evidence to prove that a painting

was by the most famous Impressionist artist of all, Claude Monet.

Despite compelling forensic analysis,

exhaustive research into the painting's history,

plus the support of the world's leading Monet experts,

the Wildenstein Institute insisted the work was fake.

Guy Wildenstein has said no.

In his opinion, it is not by Monet.

-The man's mad.

-I can't believe it.

I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry.

It was heart-breaking for the owner, David Joel.

I hope, for Keith, that history doesn't repeat itself.

Well, I've already written to one of the authors

of Vuillard's catalogue raisonne five or six times.

-Didn't get any response to any of my e-mails.

-Six times and no response?

No, I later rang him and had a very awkward phone call,

and he said, "No, no, we don't think it is by Vuillard."

I've got to say, of all the names you could have mentioned,

I wish you hadn't mentioned Wildenstein.

If we're to convince the Wildenstein Institute

that Keith's painting is genuine, we'll need to build a robust case,

so, I'm sending it for forensic analysis.

I've come to the Courtauld Institute in London,

a centre of excellence for the scientific study of art.

Head of the lab is Aviva Burnstock,

one of the world's leading conservation scientists.

Her years of experience in the forensic study of paintings

will be a huge asset to our investigation.

-Hi, Aviva, how are you?

-Nice to see you.

Aviva has agreed to undertake a series of tests which could

help determine the authenticity of Keith's painting.

-So, what do you think?

-I think it's really interesting.

Lovely surface, very matte and freely painted.

Yeah, I'm looking forward to looking at this more closely

and seeing how it's made and what it's made with.

The first stage is to use imaging techniques to examine the painting.

Different wavelengths of light can help unlock clues

hidden within the canvas.

The forensic process is now beginning.

Science can reach things, tell you things, that the human eye can't.

The history of the picture, the processes by which it's made,

its very beginnings. It could provide the evidence

to help prove whether this painting is genuine or fake.

At Philip's gallery, our head of research,

Dr Bendor Grosvenor, has been hunting down the evidence.

So, here is the man at the centre of our mystery.

The celebrated post-Impressionist, Edouard Vuillard.

So, we need to prove to the Wildenstein Institute

that this man created Keith's painting,

but so far they've rejected it as a fake. What leads have we got?

Well, as usual, I've been rootling around the back of the picture

and I've come across some rather fascinating clues.

There's some mysterious writing that says "Hessel."

-Previous owner?

-Quite possibly.

I'll have to look into that.

But there's also another label, a printed one this time,

-that says "A Robinot".

-We've seen in the past, haven't we,

how useful these labels can be

in telling us about the previous life of the painting.

-Maybe this one can help us as well.

-Yeah.

But first, I think we need to look into some of the compelling research

that Keith has done into the picture, because although his painting

is not in the catalogue raisonne,

he thinks it can be linked to a picture which is,

and that's this painting, which is a large oval called

Le Grand Teddy.

And this is accepted as a genuine Vuillard.

Yes, this picture is fully accepted as a Vuillard in the catalogue raisonne,

which tells us that Vuillard was commissioned to paint the scene,

as part of the interior decorative scheme of a new cafe in Paris

which opened in 1919, called Le Grand Teddy.

Now, Keith thinks that his oval relates to this

larger oval by Vuillard.

And is there any evidence for that?

Well, there's only some circumstantial evidence.

The catalogue raisonne tells us that the same time as Vuillard

was doing the larger oval, he was working on two smaller ones,

but these have always been thought to be lost.

And Keith thinks that his painting could be one of those lost ovals.

Mm-hm.

So, here's the plan.

If we can prove that Keith's picture was painted at the same time

as this other fully-accepted Vuillard, for the same cafe,

then we'll have enough evidence

to go back to the Wildenstein Institute.

I'm heading to Switzerland on our quest to solve this mystery.

I'm going to see the genuine Vuillard which may hold the key

to unlocking the truth about Keith's painting.

Welcome to Geneva, one of the most affluent cities in the world.

Here, money, opulence and fine art go hand in hand.

I've asked our expert scientist Aviva Burnstock

to join me at a secret underground vault

where this privately owned work is stored.

We've been given special access to see the painting Vuillard created

for Le Grand Teddy cafe.

This is an incredibly exciting moment.

Inside this box could lie the evidence that will decide

whether Keith's picture is genuine or not.

We're incredibly privileged to have such intimate access

to a privately owned work of art.

The painting is rarely on display.

This is so thrilling. It's like opening the doors of a tomb.

The collector who owns Vuillard's Le Grand Teddy

has granted us permission to study and analyse his painting.

If Keith's picture is genuine, then it should

be similar in style and technique to this larger Vuillard work.

Wow, the veil is lifted.

It's such a chic and genuinely beautiful object.

I mean, you can just imagine it there, can't you, in the cafe,

the sort of, the height of Parisian fashion.

You could see how it would catch the eye

and you can see how it would also set the atmosphere.

I mean, because it is acting a bit like Keith's image,

as a sort of reflection of what's going inside.

Yes, in fact there are passages of paint that look

closely similar, in design at least, in composition to Keith's painting.

Superficially, I must say it's compelling

that the texture of the paint,

the way the brush work's been applied,

even the canvas texture

looks closely similar to the smaller oval.

If Keith's painting is genuine,

then it must have been painted at the same time, you know,

in the same studio, using the same pigments,

so, surely from a forensic point of view,

we've got a huge advantage here.

Well, this is actually a gift. I mean, we are going to be able

to compare the pigments used for the painting

and the binding medium, to see whether, indeed, both pictures

have been made using the same materials.

I have to say, it's another egg from the same nest.

Rather like Keith's painting, it's catching the mood.

You can feel the heat of the bodies,

you can hear the clatter of the china,

you can smell the smoke.

Paris 1919,

the year Le Grand Teddy cafe opened for business.

Owner Keith and I have travelled here to see if we can find the place

where his painting may once have hung.

The First World War had ended at last

and the city was ready to put on its dancing shoes.

The place was buzzing with American soldiers who were listening

to a new kind of music from New Orleans.

they called it "jazz".

It wasn't long before American bars started to spring up everywhere.

Le Grand Teddy was one of them,

named after US president Teddy Roosevelt.

It was on Rue Caumartin, known as the Broadway of Paris.

Well, this is Rue Caumartin and back just after the First World War,

this was the place to be seen, you know, up until the 1920s.

Fitzgerald, Hemingway would hang around here.

A bit later, Josephine Baker, you know, with her banana skirts

and dancing naked under a fur coat.

Now, we've managed to find a photograph of what it looked like.

Oh, you're kidding.

"24 Rue Caumartin. Restaurant, American bar. Teddy"

So, somewhere down here will be number 24.

Have you ever thought to come here and look for it yourself?

Yes, I've wanted to, but partly a question of resources

and I just wasn't sure what I would find.

Well, also you didn't know what you were looking for.

You didn't have the picture.

The street lamps have gone but we might see this balustrade.

There's a balustrade over there. Shall we cross the road?

Let's go and have a look.

I think the balustrade's just up there.

There's number 24 on the door there.

And then this bit is this side here,

where it says "Teddy" over the door.

Restaurant Pizza Firenze.

Florence has come to Paris.

-Do you want to go inside?

-Yeah, let's.

See what remains, if anything.

Right.

-Well, obviously, it's changed a lot.

-Yeah.

I mean, it's still got pictures on the walls,

-obviously, scenes of Italy.

-Slightly different.

But big areas of wall where clearly there could have been art works.

And the banquette seating there.

Yeah, banquette seating, that's quite distinctive.

I can imagine, takes quite a lot of imagination,

-but your oval, say, over there.

-Yeah.

You can just imagine ladies sitting along that banquette seating,

-having their coffee.

-Yeah.

I wonder if there's any old photographs of it.

-Monsieur, vous etes le patron ici?

-Oui.

-Bonjour, bonjour.

-Enchante.

Vous avez... des photos du restaurant..

J'avais une seule photo.

So, the most recent picture we've got is 15 years ago.

-And we're talking about...

-Monsieur, merci beaucoup.

We've got a bit of work to do,

cos this is only, yeah, this is only taking us so far.

Yeah, sure. But interesting, interesting to be here, very.

Back in Geneva, I've asked the art handlers to remove

Le Grand Teddy from its frame and protective glass

so that Aviva can access the paint surface and begin to make

scientific comparisons with Keith's painting.

OK, now we're in front of the picture, one can really feel

and see the texture. I mean, whatever he's used

is quite extraordinary.

This is not like oil painting at all.

-It just, it just feels different.

-No, it's very, very different.

A lovely matte, unsaturated surface and it looks like it's made

in a very similar way to Keith's painting.

In order to find out exactly how this genuine Vuillard was made,

Aviva is removing tiny flecks of paint which contain

a vast amount of information about the materials the artist used.

She can compare these samples with Keith's picture,

to see if the paint mix is the same.

The back of the canvas can also provide vital clues in our quest

to prove Keith's painting is genuine.

So, we're looking here at the original canvas.

Are you able to relate it to Keith's canvas?

Well, that would be a very interesting and useful thing to do.

What I can try to do is to measure the weave count.

That's the density of threads

that were used to weave this canvas

and then compare them with the other canvas.

-I can show you if you like.

-Go ahead.

If you just look through there. Can you see?

Yes, it's like a sort of chess board.

They're going across and down.

Exactly. You just count the number of threads in one direction

and then we'll turn around the ruler and count them in the vertical direction.

Got it. And I can see

possibly now how every canvas could be slightly different.

-That's right.

-So, if you measure the ups and the downs,

the crosses, on Keith's picture and they're the same,

we could be talking about the same manufacturer,

the same roll of canvas that could have been used for Keith's picture?

Well, it's certainly another piece of evidence

and it might add weight to their origins from the same studio

and painted at the same time.

Back in Paris, we've come to the Bibliotheque Nationale,

the National Library of France.

-Hi, Bendor.

-Hi.

How are you? Nice to see you.

Bendor has joined us to help in our hunt for images

of Le Grand Teddy cafe.

A photograph of Keith's painting on the wall would clinch our case.

There's an extensive design library here and the archivist

has pulled out a box containing plans of decorative schemes

for Jazz Age Parisian bars.

Oh, oh my.

-What is this?

-Oh, my.

Is this it?

Does it look like a cafe?

You've been in it, you know.

Well it's, no, well, there's a banquette seat here.

Now what have we got here?

Oval picture on the wall.

And there's something else here.

Possibly another oval picture smaller, opposite.

How can we tell if this is it or not?

It doesn't say anything on it, does it?

Oh, hang on, what's this? The interior of Le Grand Teddy.

-Oh, my.

-Bingo.

That's the American bar.

Wow, gosh, so this is the actual drawing of the interior.

-Fascinating.

-Do you think that's a space for the big picture.

That's definitely the right size for the large Grand Teddy painting

and this is the small oval. It looks like the size of my painting.

But we're looking for TWO smaller ovals, not just one?

We are looking for two smaller ovals.

Yes, but we can't see everything here, this is just one view.

-The thing that's really frustrating, is they're blank.

-Yeah.

I mean, who'd have thought that nearly 100 years on,

the original designs for Le Grand Teddy would still exist

and there we are, we've got the oval and then another oval,

of course empty, because Vuillard had yet to do his work.

Closer, but it's still just out of reach, just out of reach.

Paris in springtime, who'd have thought it?

I'm taking shelter in a famous cafe called La Rotonde,

one of the places Vuillard sought inspiration

for his Grand Teddy ovals.

In Vuillard's time, this was a favourite haunt of artists.

Up and coming painters would gather here.

Picasso, Chagall,

hard-up Modigliani was known to exchange a painting for a hot meal.

Vuillard, too, once sat here, looking for subjects

and making notes in his journal.

I know Vuillard was obviously wonderful with a paintbrush,

he was hopeless with a pen.

I mean, his writing. It's taken me ages to decipher it.

"21st February, 1918. Preoccupation with restaurant decor.

"American, floral borders, effects of mirrors.

"Daylight and artificial lighting."

"July, 1918. Public amusing, the men on their own,

"young soldiers and young women, brunettes and blondes.

"Still preoccupied with subject."

"17th December, sketches and maquette

"for la grand oval" - for the large oval -

"and also designed the small ovals to complete the decor."

So, there we are, the three ovals. I wonder if there's anything more

about the small ovals. Hang on a minute.

"Les Huitres et Le Cafe."

So, these are the names of the small ovals, The Oysters and The Cafe!

And the cafe certainly bodes well for Keith's painting,

because Keith's painting obviously is of a cafe.

Bingo.

Back in Geneva, Aviva has called in scientists

from the Fine Art Expert Institute to help us reveal

an elusive clue on the back of the canvas.

An old label could provide information about the past life

of this genuine Vuillard that might connect it to Keith's painting.

There's some writing, but it's difficult to make out.

Dr Killian Anhauser and his team

try to shed some light on the problem,

using infrared photography.

We have a result.

Unfortunately, it's not quite what we wanted to see.

You can see they used different inks there on the label

and 564, the number, features very clearly,

and this was a carbon-based ink but what we wanted to see

-doesn't feature at all.

-It's disappeared.

Yes, it has disappeared,

because it's an ink that is invisible in the infrared.

Our research has gone backwards.

Killian has another go, this time using ultraviolet light.

Now, that to me looks much more like a result,

-it's far more vivid.

-That's a really clear result.

I mean, it's very interesting, that sometimes where infrared

doesn't work, ultraviolet light does show the writing more clearly.

OK, so, we can see that there's a printed area at the top.

-This is an exhibition label.

-Yes.

And then, well, that says "Vuillard", doesn't it?

But there's a name beneath, you can read that much more clearly.

That's H... That says "Hessel".

Hessel is a name that means something to us.

This is a really exciting advance.

We've found, on the back of the picture, a name,

the name "Hessel," and Hessel appears,

I've got it here, on the back of Keith's picture.

This man... Who is this man that connects the two pictures?

We head back to London with a string of new leads.

At Philip's gallery, we've gathered to piece together the evidence.

So, here is the plan of Le Grand Teddy which we found in Paris

and I've had a bit of a play around on the computer,

so, we can imagine what it might have been like in its day.

Have a look at this.

Oh, look at that.

Brilliant.

And Keith's picture is exactly the right size

and shape to fit that frame.

And I've got something else here which is really exciting.

These were given out as sort of promotional material

for when the Grand Teddy opened in 1919.

It comes from the National Fan Museum in Greenwich, would you believe?

Oh, wow!

Look, it's the whole scene going on at the Grand Teddy.

All the ladies in their finery and there's an orchestra playing

back here and everyone's looking at this lady being hoisted in the air

-by her partner.

-What a unique glimpse it is into that world.

But what's even more interesting is if I put the fan image

up on the screen here, and we zoom in on the top right hand corner,

let's have a look at what emerges.

Oh, that's superb. That is exactly the right shape for Keith's picture.

Yeah, and it's the right sort of colour scheme too.

You can imagine how it might just have sat in there

with the tablecloth strip of white.

That's never going to cut at the Wildenstein Institute, though.

No, but another piece of evidence might.

The trip to Geneva threw up an interesting link between

the Grand Teddy, the accepted picture,

and Keith's. On the back of both was written the name "Hessel".

Now, does that mean anything to you, Bendor?

It does indeed. Jos Hessel was Vuillard's close friend

and his dealer. There's a portrait of him here by Vuillard,

which was painted in 1905,

and this man, Hessel, had a nice gallery in Paris

and he sold many of Vuillard's works.

-Sounds promising.

-It was a very interesting relationship,

because Vuillard was having an affair with Jos Hessel's wife, Lucie,

and he painted her a number of times over the four decades

that their relationship lasted from 1899 until about 1940.

So, Hessel's wife was Vuillard's mistress for 40 years.

I mean, presumably, Hessel must have known about that.

A rather fabulous menage a trois.

Well, it seemed to have worked for the three of them

because they went on holidays together, spent time together.

And, in fact, Vuillard spending time with Lucie Hessel allowed Jos Hessel

to go off and do his own womanising.

How marvellously French, and given that the name Hessel

appeared on the back of Le Grand Teddy

and on the back of Keith's painting, can we speculate then

that both paintings passed through Hessel's gallery?

No, for that we need solid documentary evidence,

ledgers, something written down, a receipt.

Bendor, have you found anything?

Unfortunately not, cos the Hessel archive seems to have disappeared

or at least I can't find it. But the catalogue raisonne does tell us

that Jos Hessel bought the large picture, the Grand Teddy,

from the cafe when it closed in 1922.

Then the question is, what happened to the other two ovals?

Well, I think the answer could lie

in one of these labels on the back of Keith's picture.

There's a fragment of one which says "A Robinot".

Now, A Robinot was a specialist art courier.

He used to take pictures to and from exhibitions.

The only problem is, we're missing the crucial bit

of paper which tells us which exhibition the picture went to.

How frustrating!

If we knew where that exhibition took place, we might be able

to prove that Keith's painting is a genuine Vuillard.

We badly need to know what was written on that label.

I'm on the hunt for this missing piece of the jigsaw,

the location of the exhibition on the courier label.

I've come to Ipswich where I've tracked down the people

who put the painting up for auction, back in 2007.

Art consultant Robert Warren and his wife Hayley

have their own chapter in this story.

It began back in 1999, when Robert was asked to clear

the contents of a country house in Suffolk.

It was once owned by an artist named Doris Zinkeisen who passed away,

leaving her collection of paintings.

There were a number of paintings to dispose of,

and amongst them were two Vuillard cafe scenes.

There were two paintings?

Yes, they're here.

One of two ladies

and one a lady and a gentleman eating oysters in a cafe interior.

So, THIS is the other painting!

This belongs to Keith at the moment, but this was the big mystery.

I didn't know you had this photograph.

Gosh! What were you able to find out about the paintings?

Before Doris Zinkeisen,

they were owned by Charles Cochran,

the theatrical impresario.

This is a wonderful picture of him here surrounded by all the showgirls who were there.

He did all kinds of wonderful revues and theatrical performances in London.

Is there any documentation to prove that Charles Cochran

ever actually owned these specific two paintings?

-Oh, no, no, no, no.

-All we've got is word of mouth

from the family that this is where they came from.

But, it isn't actually specifically documented.

It's remarkable to see an image of the pair to Keith's painting.

But can the Warrens help with another mystery?

What was written on that damaged label?

"A Robinot" it says, who was a courier.

"Exposition" - exhibition.

But the crucial bit is missing cos it's damaged here.

We had the pictures restored and when they came back to us,

the label was taken off the back

and put into a little envelope

and bits and pieces had gone completely.

Labels were taken off, I can't believe that!

The rest of that was "Pays Bas".

Well, "Pays Bas" means, means Netherlands, it means Holland.

-Yeah, yeah.

-And did it have a date on it?

-1926.

This painting was shown at an exhibition in the Netherlands in 1926.

But it didn't say where it was.

Despite a lengthy and costly search around Europe,

the Warrens failed to find any evidence of a 1926 exhibition.

Sadly, the Wildenstein Institute rejected the two ovals.

But it was exciting, you don't understand.

-It's the chase, it is exciting.

-You can't stop!

"I've got a Vuillard, it's Vuillard."

"No, it's not." "Yes, it is." So, you go somewhere else.

"No, it's not," "Yes, it is!"

You still have that faith that you're right

-and everyone else is wrong.

-We just failed.

After four years, I became sort of rather bruised.

I'd come to the end... I'd really come to the end of my tether with it.

-We just got rid of them.

-Gosh.

The cafe scene was put up for auction and bought by Keith.

But what became of the other painting, The Oysters?

-So, how did you sell this painting?

-On eBay.

-You sold it on eBay.

-We sold it on eBay.

I think it was sold on eBay.

Gosh, after all the time and money you spent trying

to authenticate these paintings and failing,

if we succeed, how will you feel?

Very happy, because I was right all the time.

-Hayley?

-I would be absolutely gutted.

That's the difference between Bob and I.

He's the purist. I enjoyed the chase,

but I would have liked to have had a good end result and to win.

I think most people would.

What a lovely couple and it's just a bit heartbreaking

to hear how much effort and time and money they have spent

trying to authenticate the two paintings they had.

You know, traipsing all round Europe and they got nowhere.

But, on the positive side, we've got two great leads now.

We've got the label on the back of the painting

and now, we know it was an exhibition in the Netherlands.

So, that's something to chase up.

And then a photograph, a photograph of the other oval

of The Oysters and someone's got it somewhere,

and if it is genuine,

they're sitting on a bit of a lottery ticket.

At the Courtauld Institute in London,

the forensic investigation is continuing.

Armed with samples of paint from the genuine Vuillard in Geneva,

Aviva is now going to remove tiny flecks of paint

from Keith's painting to see if the materials are the same.

I believe the key to solving this mystery

is in the type of paints that Vuillard used.

Now, both Keith's picture and the Grand Teddy

have the same granular, chalky, matte surface

but there's a reason for that.

Instead of mixing his pigments with oil,

like most painters did at that period,

Vuillard instead used something different. He used glue.

So, why did Vuillard use glue? He spent his early career designing

theatre sets and learned to work with a special glue-based paint

used by scenic artists. This had a huge impact on the direction

of his work and he began to apply the same techniques

to his own paintings.

John Campbell creates backcloths for major productions

on the stage and screen.

-Philip.

-Hello.

-Nice to see you.

-Nice to see you.

He's one of the few scenic artists who still knows Vuillard's method

of working with his peculiar paint mix known as glue distemper.

Right, this is the glue used. Dry, this is dry.

A bit like shot.

We soak this in cold water, about that much cold water overnight

and then it will end up in the morning like that.

Tapioca. Frog spawn.

-Yes.

-And what does it smell of?

-Oh, God, it's wretched.

It's made of animal bone, horn, hooves, skin probably.

Yeah, smells of very wet dog.

It's a beautiful smell. I like it. It's whatever turns you on, right?

The glue is mixed with hot water to produce a sticky, smelly liquid.

This acts as the binding medium to which powdered pigment is added.

This all seem very elaborate just for mixing paint.

Well, we've got a tray filled with water on a small gas unit under here,

which keeps the water warm. If I don't put it in the heat,

it'll go like a jelly which you can't then put on a brush,

you can't use it.

It is like cooking, isn't it?

It's a bit like, it is like cooking. It's exactly like cooking.

Vuillard liked this peculiar paint recipe

because it's quick drying, easy to spread across large areas

with a matte surface that doesn't reflect the glare of lights.

He used glue distemper to create many large scale decorative works

to adorn the walls of houses of wealthy clients,

as well as public spaces, theatre foyers,

hotels, and of course, cafes and bars.

Very few artists have used this combination of animal glue

and pigment. Apart from anything else, it's incredibly tricky to do

cos you've got to keep it hot all the time so that the glue

doesn't go hard. I can't imagine that a forger

is going to go to that trouble. Now, if we can prove that

Keith's picture has used this unusual combination of pigment

and glue, then we're much closer to proving

that it's an original.

Keith and I have come to The Cafe Royal Hotel in Piccadilly.

In Vuillard's time, this was the centre of London's

fashionable cafe society.

Bendor has asked us here because he's been looking

into the ownership of the two ovals after they left Le Grand Teddy cafe.

Now, Keith, Fiona has sent me this very interesting picture which

I'd like to show you and I want to see

if that strikes any bells with you.

Well, must be the third painting of Le Grand Teddy commission.

So, this is the pair to your picture.

Yeah. Man and woman with oysters.

Now, the previous owner of this picture and of your picture,

the Warrens, spent a great deal of time trying to nail down

a story that they had belonged to a theatre manager called

Charles Cochran, and they didn't get very far.

That's been a little bit of a stumbling block

on the provenance.

However, I have found an article

in something called the Windsor Magazine, from 1933.

Look, it's got some glorious old-fashioned adverts.

And in it, there is an article called - ta-da! -

"A Day with Charles Cochran."

There he is, CB at his office,

and, if I show you this little paragraph here,

because the journalist has been going round his house

and looking at his pictures, and it says,

"We turned to another wall where there were two canvases

"of cafe scenes reminiscent of the Cafe Royal,"

which is why I brought you here,

-"by Vuillard."

-Right.

And then he quotes Mr Cochran who says, "'When Walter Sickert'" -

the leading English Impressionist or Post-Impressionist artist of his day -

"'came into this room and saw that,' remarked Mr Cochran pointing at one of them,

"he said, 'if you have to sleep under a bridge on the Embankment, never sell it.

"'It's the finest example of Vuillard's work I've seen,'

-"Mr Sickert concluded."

-That's brilliant,

Fantastic. So, I'd like to think that Sickert was talking about your picture,

as one of the finest Vuillards he's ever seen,

and I think to have an endorsement from an artist like Sickert

of your painting, and to have a fairly substantial hole

on the provenance filled, is quite nice.

That is brilliant. That is absolutely brilliant.

Well, Bendor, I agree that is a wonderful advance.

However, it doesn't take us back to the time

when they left the restaurant, it leaves a gap

in the provenance, and if we're going to convince

the Wildenstein Institute, we don't want any gaps.

Absolutely, absolutely.

We need more hard evidence.

Back at the Courtauld Institute,

I'm hoping that the results of Aviva's comparisons

between Keith's painting and Le Grand Teddy

might just nail the forensics.

First up - are the two works painted on the same type of canvas,

perhaps even from the same supplier?

Well, I can tell you that the thread count is 16 threads warp

and 16 threads of the weft,

which is exactly the same as the thread count for Le Grand Teddy.

Wow, that's really good news.

It's a match, but it only takes us so far.

Aviva now looks closely at what materials were used

in the manufacture of each canvas.

What we're seeing here is fibres from the canvas from both pictures.

This is from Le Grand Teddy and this is from Keith's picture.

And what you see here is a mixture of linen, these ridged fibres,

and cotton, these twisty fibres that you see here,

and the same mixture is used in exactly the same way in both samples.

So, does that mean they're actually from the same piece of cloth,

the same roll? Can that be said about them?

Well, I've taken it one step further and what you can see here is

the priming that's supplied by the manufacturer in each case,

and what I've done is I did an elemental analysis

and I've identified both materials as being identical.

They're alumina-silicates. So, it would seem likely that the canvases

were supplied by the same manufacturer.

-That's a result.

-That is a result.

That's good news, clearly.

So, Keith, if a forger had painted your picture,

he would have to be pretty inspired, pretty resourceful,

to have gone to the lengths of finding the same manufacturer.

It seems pretty unlikely.

The scientific evidence is stacking up.

While Philip awaits more test results,

I'm meeting Bendor to try and fill in the last gap

in the past life of Keith's painting.

So, we've managed to establish the previous ownership

of Keith's painting, back through the Warrens to Doris Zinkeisen,

the artist and then we know it was in the possession

of the theatre producer Charles Cochran in 1933.

Yes, but then we've got this crucial gap where we don't know what happened

to the picture after Le Grand Teddy closed in 1922.

The fact that it says Hessel on the back, it's tempting to assume

that it was in the ownership of Hessel, Vuillard's dealer,

but we've no documentary evidence for that, have we?

Well, I might be able to help because I've been following up that lead

you got from the Warrens.

Do you remember the label said on the back, "A Robinot",

which suggested that the picture had been at an exhibition in Holland in 1926.

And the Warrens told me they went all over Europe trying to find out

where that exhibition was and they got nowhere.

Well, I did what we have to do in these situations,

and I phoned a friend in the Holland Institute

of Art Historical Research, and they came up with this.

Art Contemporain Francais in 1926.

So, this is a catalogue for an exhibition

of contemporary French art 1926 in The Hague and Amsterdam.

And if you look at this page, you can see something promising.

"Vuillard Edouard, chez M Hessel, Au Restaurant."

So, Vuillard had a painting in this exhibition called Au Restaurant,

which is close, but that is not the title of Keith's painting, is it?

Well, we've got two compelling things.

The Hessel link is interesting and the "Au Restaurant" is interesting.

I know the title is a bit different,

but it's the same subject matter and titles change all the time.

But what we really want is some sort of description or dimensions

or something like that, to really firm it up.

So, if we can find out more about this mystery catalogue entry,

we might just be able to nail the attribution

-of Keith's painting.

-I think then it would be a done deal

because what we would have is absolute proof

the picture was exhibited as a Vuillard, in a prominent place,

during Vuillard's lifetime, and this is just the sort of thing

that the faker would never pull off. I mean, it's impossible to imagine.

It's the final crucial scientific test to find out

whether the paint mix used in Keith's painting

is the same as the peculiar recipe used by Vuillard.

Conservation scientist Brian Singer has the results for us.

Brian, what have you found out?

Well, we've obtained these two chromatograms.

The top one is from Keith's painting,

the lower one is from the Grand Teddy

and you can see peaks in exactly the same places

and they have roughly the same heights.

So, those binding media are the same material,

and on this graph we can see all samples are very high

in an amino acid called hydroxyproline.

So, that's indicative of animal glue.

Which is one of the things that we know Vuillard used.

This is hugely significant.

It's remarkable.

Philip has nailed the science,

but there's still a gap in the past life of the painting.

I've come to Amsterdam to try and find the last piece of the jigsaw.

Did Keith's painting travel here in 1926 to be displayed

in an exhibition of French art?

The venue was a prestigious one.

The Stedelijk Museum.

It houses one of the richest collections of modern art in the world.

The question is, did Keith's painting once hang on these walls

as a genuine Vuillard?

Willem Van Beek, the museum archivist,

has been trying to find any information

about the mystery catalogue entry, "Au Restaurant".

-Hi, Fiona.

-Hi, Willem. nice to meet you.

Nice to meet you. How are you?

What have you got?

What we have here is a scrap book of the reviews of exhibitions

in our museum and this one contains the reviews of 1926 until 1928.

A-ha!

So, that should be the reviews of the exhibition

in which the Vuillard should have hung.

You see, it was a rather important exhibition

because the Queen Mother visited the exhibition.

-Wonderful old photograph.

-Yeah, really, it is.

These are a few pictures of the exhibition

but, unfortunately, not by Vuillard.

But what we did find is this.

This is...

Oh, "Van Vuillard...

"Au Restaurant..."

That's as much as I can understand because it's all in Dutch.

To make it easier for you, I had them translated for you.

That's very kind of you, Dutch not being my strong point!

OK, well.

"By Vuillard we find here an interior, 'Au Restaurant'.

"The warm colours, the animated picture,

"the poetic interpretation of the scene.

"A row of young women, seated at a long table in a cafe,

"remind one of Renoir.

"Its soft pink and soft yellow in the flowers on the damask

"table cloth, a bottle, glasses and some colourful things,

"elegant and fine." That sounds like Keith's picture!

It seems to describe it, doesn't it?

Wow, that's amazing.

Isn't it!

-Well, I have something more for you.

-There's more?!

Yeah, there is more. We have an article from the Telegraph,

which was an important, still is an important newspaper in Holland,

-also translated for you.

-Oh, gosh, brilliant.

"Edouard Vuillard, the poetic painter of interiors,

"is also a painter after Impressionism.

"The oval composition" - that sounds promising -

"of a restaurant scene, a row of young women on a red couch

"in front of a yellow background, sitting at a table decorated

"with flowers is characteristic for this intimate painter of modern life

"and one of the best works in the exhibition." Well that's it!

-That's it, isn't it?

-That is it, that is our painting!

Wow.

I never expected it would be that clear.

So, Keith's painting was here in Amsterdam,

in this museum in 1926.

-I'm almost lost for words to be honest.

-Speechless.

-Yes, I am.

Keith will be happy, like you.

Keith will be happy and I'm hoping the Wildensteins will be happy as well.

PHONE RINGS

I couldn't wait to tell Keith the good news.

"A row of young women, on a red couch in front of

"a yellow background sitting at a table decorated with flowers."

-Is this beginning to sound familiar?

-Yeah, it sounds like mine.

-Fiona, this is incredible!

-Hang on, let me keep going.

It describes this painting as "one of the best works in the exhibition."

-There you go.

-Oh, that's nice. Well, that helps.

Short of having a clip of film

of Vuillard actually painting the damn thing,

I mean, you cannot do better than that.

Absolutely. I mean it gets to a point where the responsibility

is really with the Wildenstein Institute.

It's crunch time.

We need to take our evidence to the Wildenstein Institute,

so we've called in a Vuillard scholar to help present our case.

Belinda Thomson is an honorary professor of art history

at Edinburgh University. She's closely involved with Vuillard,

having published his biography and curated exhibitions of his work.

This is not the first time you've seen this painting, is it,

because the previous owners, the Warrens, showed it to you as well, didn't they?

Yes, Mr Warren showed it to me 12 years ago

and, at that time, I saw it with its pair.

And what was your impression of it then?

In my opinion, I thought it was by Vuillard.

To me, it seemed absolutely characteristic of his handling,

his colour, the subject matter.

So, why do you think the Wildenstein Institute rejected it?

I suspect that the lack in the paper trail,

the sort of gaps in the provenance, may have been a problem.

Now those have been, I think, very satisfactorily, filled in

with the new research, so I think it makes a very compelling case.

Our evidence stands up to Belinda's scrutiny,

but have we done enough to convince the Wildenstein Institute?

They've agreed to reconsider the work,

but they want to examine the painting in Paris

before they make their decision.

All we can do is wait.

After ten agonising weeks,

the Wildenstein Institute have reached a verdict.

Keith is on his way to the gallery and we're all about to discover

whether the painting has been accepted as a genuine work

by Edouard Vuillard.

When it comes to Keith's painting,

I think this is the strongest case we've ever made

to prove its authenticity.

But we're dealing with the Wildenstein Institute.

We approached them with a painting before, a painting by Monet,

that we felt again, that we had made a very, very strong case for,

and they turned it down.

I'm convinced by this picture

and we've done everything that we possible can.

I mean, we've proved it on paper,

I mean, we've pretty well taken it back, almost day by day,

to the time it was painted.

We've found that it has an exhibition history.

We've looked at the chemical make-up of the paint,

the very materials that we know that Vuillard used as well.

I mean, we can't do better than that.

We're feeling confident, but how about Keith?

-How you doing?

-OK. A little nervous, obviously.

You look a little bit nervous.

-Yeah, he looks a little bit pale, doesn't he?

-Ah yes, I feel pale.

It's been a long journey to get to this point.

It still comes down to a relatively small number of people

in Paris deciding whether they believe it to be

part of the catalogue or not.

If we can attach the magic name Vuillard,

if it is rubber stamped in Paris,

then I think we're talking about a figure quite likely

-in excess of £300,000.

-Right.

But if it's not, well, even your initial investment's

going to look horribly expensive. I mean, as a decorative image

it may only be worth £1,000 to £1,500.

-Mm.

-And you bought it for?

About 11.

So, either a pretty substantial loss or a massive gain.

Yes, it's pretty binary, really.

The moment of truth has arrived.

Belinda has returned from Paris

where she's been lobbying hard for the painting.

She's got news for us.

-Hello.

-Hello, again.

I've been to Paris, I've had a few meetings with key people

in the Vuillard world, in particular a meeting with Guy Cogeval,

President of the Musee d'Orsay,

but also, crucially, co-author of the Vuillard catalogue raisonne.

So, this is it. Can I hand you this, yes.

Ready?

I think so.

This never gets any easier.

Gosh, it's short.

"Dear Belinda, after having examined the oval painting representing

"a scene in a cafe, the Vuillard Committee unanimously acknowledges

"this work as a painting by Vuillard.

"A certificate shall be issued within the next weeks to Keith Tutt.

-"Kind regards, Matthias Chivot."

-That's incredible.

Fan-bloody-tastic.

-Yeah, that's incredible.

-Well done.

-Thank you, thank you.

-Aw! Isn't that great?

It's wonderful. I can't believe I hear those words.

When you say it.

"Unanimously acknowledges this work as a painting by Vuillard."

Oh, it's just so succinct, isn't it,

it's just so neat and short and sharp. Conclusive.

That's, that's extraordinary.

That was a leap of faith you took at that auction house,

it really was, and now you look at it and you've got that letter.

Yes, what are you thinking about it now?

It's still the same painting,

it is really just a confirmation of what I felt

and that may sound sort of arrogant in a way, but...

Has it got a lovely rosy glow now?

It's always had a rosy glow.

I love it and I'm just so delighted that it's found its place.

You've all managed to make it possible

to put it in its rightful place, and that's justice.

Keith's painting will now be added to the official record

of Edouard Vuillard works.

But that still leaves one painting to be found,

because somebody has the other matching oval

and it too will now be worth a fortune.

You know, it's easy to forget Mr and Mrs Warren in all this

because they went all round Europe trying to prove that this painting

was a Vuillard before they put it up for auction,

and, of course, Keith bought it and so, they're going to be...

Well, I suspect they'll be a bit devastated, actually.

That's the nature of this business.

Fortunes are for ever shifting.

Well, that other painting is out there somewhere

and we should try and find it.

If you think you have the missing Vuillard oval painting,

or another undiscovered masterpiece,

we'd love to hear from you, at...