The sleepy Spanish town of Deifontes found itself unexpectedly thrust into the spotlight when a seemingly minor Picasso painting, intended for a Granada museum, vanished this month. A white art-filled van, rumored to carry the missing artwork, had even parked overnight in the town, drawing the attention of local police and sparking a peculiar kind of excitement.
Patricia Gutiérrez, 49, whose family owns the Hostal Rural El Nacimiento in Deifontes, envisioned a unique tourism opportunity. “We want to create ‘the route of the lost Picasso’,” she declared, even half-joking about offering discounts to visitors arriving in white vans. Patricia and her father José, pictured in their dining room with tiled floors, were keen on putting their town on the map following the intrigue around the painting’s disappearance.
However, this fleeting moment of local intrigue was quickly brought to an end. After weeks of a nationwide search for Pablo Picasso’s 1919 gouache and pencil work, “Still Life With Guitar,” authorities announced its recovery. In a surprising twist, law enforcement officials revealed the painting had never actually left its owner’s building in northern Madrid. A police official, who wished to remain anonymous, explained that a woman residing in the same building had mistakenly taken the artwork home instead of the intended courier. No charges have been filed in connection with the incident.
Officials at the CajaGranada Foundation in Granada, where the artwork was slated for exhibition, expressed hope that the piece would now be properly delivered and join their “Still Life: The Eternity of the Inert” show. The recovered “Still Life With Guitar,” a small work mostly in golden, yellow, and brown tones within a large dark frame, became the focal point of this unexpected drama after being recovered by Spanish police.
For a brief period, the mystery surrounding the missing Picasso ignited a “caper fever” in Deifontes, a tranquil village surrounded by shimmering olive trees, just 20 minutes outside Granada. Retirees were concocting elaborate theories, while hotel owners embraced their inner detectives, poring over the most mundane details. The local excitement intensified, fueled by news of a recent audacious jewel heist in Paris.
“It’s the first time I’ve seen Deifontes on TV,” remarked José Martín, 63, a retired farmer who, along with three old friends, sat on a bench beside the town’s “Welcome to Deifontes, Land of Fountains” sign. “Usually the cops are just here for some drug bust. It’s a great area for growing marijuana.”
José Gutiérrez, Ms. Gutiérrez’s father and owner of the Hostal Rural El Nacimiento, before the painting’s true whereabouts were revealed, enthusiastically played the sleuth. He found it “strange” that the two delivery men, who arrived with their white van on the evening of October 2, declined his offer to park in the garage, opting instead to leave it on the street, out of his hotel’s security camera view. He also mentioned their unusual refusal of complimentary Cuba libres – an offer, he noted, no one typically turns down. The men, including José Martín, second from left, were pictured debating the missing Picasso case.
After a dinner of lamb, pork, and chicken, accompanied by a special salad featuring bacon, the men retired, Mr. Gutiérrez and his daughter recounted. Local news outlets reported that the delivery men claimed to have slept in shifts to guard the van. Their room was notably decorated with a still life of three flowers in three vases, which Mr. Gutiérrez mused about renaming “the Picasso room.”
The following morning, after toast with more ham, the delivery men departed for the CajaGranada Foundation, a contemporary concrete and glass structure set against the stunning Sierra Nevada mountains, about a 20-minute drive away. They completed their scheduled delivery, though the museum staff later realized some packages were incorrectly numbered. Images show the signature of Juan Roex, a Granada painter who paid for lunches with art, and a parrot, the mascot of Hostal Rural El Nacimiento.
Three days later, on October 6, foundation staff began unpacking the paintings. By midday, the curator and exhibit director discovered that the Picasso, likely intended for the cubism section, was missing. They immediately contacted the police. “In 30 years, I have never seen anything like this,” stated Miguel Arjona, the exhibit director, who otherwise refrained from discussing the investigation.
Authorities traced the delivery men’s journey back to the Hostal Rural El Nacimiento, whose lobby features a parrot enthusiastically squawking “Hola! Hola!” Mr. Gutiérrez, undeterred, boasted about knowing “half of Spain” and having hosted military generals and local politicians. The police inspected the hotel’s paintings, including a still life by local Granada artist Juan Roex, who was known to pay for lunches with his art, but didn’t search the delivery men’s room, instead taking the video surveillance footage.
Meanwhile, the exhibition at the CajaGranada Foundation, shown here in Granada, opened to visitors admiring the art. During a recent tour, a guide inquired if local arts school teenagers had heard about the missing Picasso, noting its small size. “Easy to steal,” Azahara Dale, 15, thought aloud. As she and other visitors admired the delivered artworks, Mr. Arjona highlighted the exhibit’s true treasures—pieces by 17th-century Flemish masters and Spanish artists like Juan Gris and Antonio López. A vigilant security guard, relieved the Picasso hadn’t gone missing on his watch, simply uttered, “Thank God.”
Back on their bench in Deifontes, before the police’s final revelation, Mr. Martín and his friends were still engrossed in unraveling the baffling details. “Why did they come to the hotel with all that art in the van?” he wondered. Turning to Manuel Tenorio, 74, a former policeman with a walking stick, for answers, Tenorio just shrugged. “I’ve been retired for 15 years,” he quipped. “What the hell do I know?” The Hostal Rural El Nacimiento is pictured at night, with parked cars under streetlights.
José Bautista contributed reporting.