TUSK FORCE
It is an ornate piece. A painted, carved and inlaid Pompeiian cabinet made in 1862 for the Great Exhibition in London by internationally renowned cabinetmaker Johann Levien, darling of Europe’s nobility.
It is rare. Furniture historian William Cottrell reckons there are only 10-12 known pieces by Levien left in the world.
It is valuable. In 1998, a Levien sideboard sold for £380,000.
It has a New Zealand connection. In the early 1840s, Levien based himself in Wellington, where he developed a passion for native timbers and an aptitude for te reo.
And it is at the heart of a public row that could see it given away or the inlaid figurines by master craft sman Ferdinando Pogliani removed, gifted or destroyed.
Because they are made of ivory; because the cabinet arrived here without the required documentation; and because when the permit did arrive, we were in lockdown.
“It is insanity,” fumes Cottrell. “If [the figurines] are destroyed, is the world a better place? No. No Zimbabwean poacher will ever hear about it. No corrupt Customs official in Mombasa will ever know about it and
