“Provenance matters” (p. 9) – this statement, made by the editor in his introduction, is both the reason for, and the central argument of this informative primer. Provenance has not always mattered quite as much as it does today, however. It is certainly true that, historically, collectors, dealers, and curators were always interested in learning who had owned a particular work of art, especially if this information could alleviate concerns about its authenticity or if it had once belonged to a historically significant individual. In this sense, provenance often effectively served as a stamp of approval that could dramatically increase an object’s appeal to collectors and museum curators – and, by extension, also its monetary value. Conversely, the gaps in an object’s history and indeed the lack of any meaningful provenance information at all were seen as regrettable but, ultimately, not as a cause for concern.

This is no longer the case, mainly because provenance gaps have far too often obfuscated a troubling history – for example, if the records conveniently omitted who owned an object during the Nazi period or how exactly an object left its country of origin after the imposition of strict export laws on cultural property. Furthermore, perspectives on what qualifies as a “complete” provenance have in many cases changed considerably. We might consider, for example, what art dealers and curators used to consider a perfectly acceptable provenance: They would openly record that items had been seized at gunpoint during one of the many imperial punitive raids of the 19th century or that objects had been smuggled out of their countries of origin in diplomatic bags. As recently as the 1980s, not even the fact that an object originated from an auction in Nazi Germany raised any eyebrows at British museums. “Provenance Research Today” powerfully highlights how researchers can embark on exploring the full story behind an object’s provenance – a process that may, rather than increase the item’s appeal, lead to its removal from a gallery and place it before a judge or a restitution committee.

The contributions assembled by Arthur Tompkins consistently highlight the challenges faced by practitioners who may approach object biographies from different starting points and for different reasons – but always with the goal of answering the deceptively simple question: “Who owned this object in the past?” Sharon Flescher highlights that, despite all good intentions, this can be immensely difficult in practice: “It is rare that a work has a confirmed provenance leading back to the artist. Gaps are common, even inevitable, and […] cannot always be filled in, despite dedicated research” (p. 41). This sums up the central challenge of provenance research. The great strength of this book is that it does not just present us with information on, for example, how the 1970 UNESCO Convention or the 1998 Washington Principles on Nazi-Confiscated Art elevated the importance of provenance research, but that it showcases research strategies and resources for undertaking this important work. As Andrea Lehmann and Marie Stolberg highlight in their chapter “Best Practice Guidelines, Methods and Tools”, provenance research requires much more than a willingness to examine the available documentation and indeed the object itself. This is usually just the beginning of a complicated research process that aims to reunite the object with the archival records from which it had become estranged.

To make these connections, today’s provenance researchers can draw on a wide range of digital tools discussed in the chapters by Louisa Wood Ruby (Provenance Research in the Digital Age) and Jason Sousa and Ariane Moser (Data and Databases in Provenance Research). Online resources, such as those listed in the useful appendix, can certainly enable researchers to bypass laborious research processes if the item appears in a digitized auction catalog or a database for looted art. However, this is then usually just the start of the necessary research in conventional archives. Marc Masurovsky explores the interplay between digital and archival resources in the realm of Nazi-era provenance research; Lynn Rother and Iris Schmeisser provide interesting insights into how this research can unfold in museums; and James Ratcliffe and Amelie Ebbinghaus do the same for the commercial art world.

Researchers focused on Nazi-era provenance can, once they have identified the name of a previous owner, turn to relevant historical documents. However, this is often not the case for antiquities, and especially not for items whose discovery and export were never documented because their removal occurred illegally. The chapters by Simon Mackenzie and Donna Yates, Lynda Albertson, and Tess Davis introduce readers to this critical area.

In 2017, French President Emmanuel Macron famously said at the University of Ouagadougou: “Within five years, I want the conditions to exist for temporary or permanent returns of African heritage to Africa.” This landmark speech elevated the repatriation debate around Colonial-era objects to a level not seen since the 1970s–1980s. It also led to research activity only matched by provenance research efforts made in the wake of the 1998 Washington Conference on Holocaust-Era Assets. It does feel like an omission that there is no chapter in this volume that directly engages with the challenges involved in Colonial-era provenance research. Overall, “Provenance Research Today” provides a stimulating panorama of the field. It is to be hoped that this volume will be continuously updated to reflect what has become an incredibly dynamic research area.