Chap­ter 3 of The Art Thief takes read­ers deep into the mind of Stéphane Bre­itwieser, a self-styled con­nois­seur of art who has jus­ti­fied his numer­ous thefts not as crim­i­nal acts but as a means of curat­ing beau­ty. Although his actions have made him a noto­ri­ous fig­ure in the world of art crime, Bre­itwieser does not con­sid­er him­self a typ­i­cal thief. His thefts, car­ried out with the help of his part­ner, Anne-Cather­ine Klein­klaus, are por­trayed as a per­son­al mis­sion to col­lect art that he believes is right­ful­ly his. Bre­itwieser feels a deep con­tempt for oth­er art thieves, espe­cial­ly those involved in high-pro­file heists like the infa­mous 1990 Isabel­la Stew­art Gard­ner Muse­um rob­bery, where thieves destroyed art­works dur­ing their escape. To him, the idea of caus­ing harm to an art­work, whether through dam­age or vio­lence, is anath­e­ma to his per­son­al phi­los­o­phy of art as some­thing sacred.

Unlike many crim­i­nals who focus on quick, vio­lent thefts, Bre­itwieser takes a much more cal­cu­lat­ed and respect­ful approach. He is delib­er­ate in his meth­ods, care­ful­ly remov­ing paint­ings from their frames and ensur­ing that noth­ing is dam­aged. For him, the theft of art should not result in its destruc­tion, and it is this metic­u­lous­ness that sets him apart from the typ­i­cal art thief. The muse­um, in Breitwieser’s view, is an insti­tu­tion that sti­fles the true beau­ty of art, lock­ing it away in ster­ile envi­ron­ments where it can­not be ful­ly appre­ci­at­ed. He argues that the true val­ue of art is only real­ized when it is expe­ri­enced in a per­son­al, inti­mate man­ner, far from the con­fines of the ster­ile, con­trolled atmos­phere of the muse­um.

Breitwieser’s jus­ti­fi­ca­tions for his thefts are steeped in a com­plex philo­soph­i­cal belief about the nature of art. He sees him­self not as a thief, but as a lib­er­a­tor of art—taking it out of the cold, imper­son­al muse­um set­ting and into a space where he can tru­ly engage with it. This belief is most evi­dent in his admi­ra­tion for works such as the ivory “Adam and Eve,” which he sees as sen­su­al and deserv­ing of clos­er inspec­tion. Unlike many oth­er art thieves, who are pri­mar­i­ly dri­ven by the desire for mon­e­tary gain, Bre­itwieser views his col­lec­tion as an act of aes­thet­ic and emo­tion­al ful­fill­ment. He takes pride in his abil­i­ty to iden­ti­fy art that moves him, argu­ing that it is his deep appre­ci­a­tion for beau­ty that moti­vates his actions, not the desire to prof­it from stolen goods. Yet, despite these lofty ideals, Bre­itwieser can­not escape the real­i­ty of his crim­i­nal actions, which con­tin­ue to define his exis­tence.

In con­trast to Breitwieser’s ide­al­ism, Anne-Cather­ine offers a more prag­mat­ic per­spec­tive on their lifestyle. While she par­tic­i­pates in the thefts, she does so with more cau­tion and aware­ness of the con­se­quences. Liv­ing togeth­er in his mother’s home, with­out pay­ing rent, they are forced to rely on mod­est jobs and gov­ern­ment sup­port to sur­vive. Anne-Cather­ine does not share Breitwieser’s roman­ti­cized view of their actions. She is more attuned to the risks and dan­gers of their lifestyle, though she nev­er direct­ly chal­lenges him on their crimes. Their rela­tion­ship reflects a dynam­ic in which Breitwieser’s ide­al­ism about art clash­es with the prac­ti­cal real­i­ties of liv­ing a crim­i­nal life. Although they con­tin­ue to steal, they do not attempt to sell the art, as Bre­itwieser finds the idea of prof­it­ing from stolen art to be dis­hon­or­able. This con­trast between Breitwieser’s philo­soph­i­cal jus­ti­fi­ca­tions and Anne-Catherine’s more ground­ed view­point adds depth to their rela­tion­ship, under­scor­ing the com­plex­i­ty of their moti­va­tions and the con­tra­dic­tions in their lives. Their sto­ry is one of both pas­sion and prag­ma­tism, as they nav­i­gate the fine line between art theft and artis­tic appre­ci­a­tion.