He was found to be offering more magnums of the limited edition 1947 Chteau Lafleur than had been produced, and his Clos Saint-Denis Grand Cru was labelled with a fictitious vintage. Sentenced to 10 years' imprisonment in 2013 in the United States, he was released in November 2020 and deported to Indonesia.
Kurniawan unsuccessfully sought political asylum in the United States in 2001. After all of his appeals were exhausted in 2003, U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement persuaded a court to order Kurniawan to submit to a voluntary deportation. He was directed to leave the country no later than April 25, 2003; instead, he elected to stay in the United States illegally.
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Kurniawan began buying and selling large amounts of rare wines in the early part of the 2000s,[8] spending as much as $1 million a month buying auction lots by 2006.[6][9] At the same time, he began hosting tastings of rare wines with other collectors; he showed so much affinity for the ultraluxury Burgundy producer, Domaine de la Romane-Conti, at these events that he became known as "Dr. Conti".[5] At this time, he was described as possessing "arguably the greatest cellar on Earth."[10]
Eventually, he wound up consigning lots with John Kapon in two major auctions at Acker, Merral & Condit in 2006, netting $10.6 million ($16 million in 2023 dollars)[11] in the first and $24.7 million ($37.3 million in 2023 dollars)[11] in the second.[3] The second auction was the record for a single sale of wine at auction,[12] beating the previous record by more than $10 million.[10] During the two auctions, Kurniawan offered for sale eight magnums of 1947 Chteau Lafleur.[13] A few days after the second sale, Kurniawan secured a loan for $8.84 million ($13.4 million in 2023 dollars)[11] from Acker Merrall & Condit, secured by the wine and art in his collection.[6]
In April 2007, Kurniawan consigned several magnums of 1982 Chteau Le Pin at Christie's in Los Angeles; the bottles were featured on the auction catalog's cover. Representatives from Chteau Le Pin contacted the auction house and indicated that the bottles were fake; Christie's withdrew the lot from auction after further review of the bottles.[14] At the 2007 TASTE3 food and wine conference held in Napa, California, David Molyneux-Berry, the former head of the wine department at Sotheby's, noted that only five magnums of the 1947 Lafleur were produced, indicating that Kurniawan's wines sold in 2006 were assuredly fakes.[13]
In 2008, Kurniawan consigned several bottles allegedly made by Domaine Ponsot from the Clos Saint-Denis Grand cru appellation, with vintages ranging from 1945 through 1971. According to Laurent Ponsot, head of Domaine Ponsot, the domaine had never made a Clos Saint-Denis prior to 1982. Ponsot contacted the auction house, and the lots were removed.[3][15] Ponsot later met with Kurniawan and was left wondering if Rudy was actually a counterfeiter or simply the last person to innocently handle counterfeited wine.[5] Kurniawan, when asked after the auction lots were withdrawn where the wine came from, said "we try our best to get it right, but it's Burgundy, and sometimes shit happens."[15]
After the Ponsot sale was called off, the origin of Kurniawan's wine was increasingly questioned. Bill Koch filed a lawsuit against him in 2009, alleging Kurniawan knowingly sold fake bottles to him and other collectors, both at auction and privately.[5][16][17] He also defaulted on a $10 million loan from the auction house Acker, Merrall & Condit, where he sold much of his wine, including the withdrawn Ponsot sale.[2][13][18] In February 2012, Spectrum Wine Auctions had to withdraw several lots of wine, worth an estimated $785,000,[19] from an auction in London when allegations emerged that they were consigned by Kurniawan through a second party.[2][14][20]
On the morning of 8 March 2012, the FBI arrested Kurniawan at his home in Arcadia, California.[21] When agents searched his house, they found inexpensive Napa wines with notes indicating they would be passed off as older vintages of Bordeaux, corks, stamps, labels, and other tools involved in counterfeiting wine.[5] He was indicted on several counts of mail fraud and wire fraud in New York on 9 March.[3] Later investigations indicated that Kurniawan was purchasing inexpensive, though old, Burgundy wines and re-labeling them with prestigious producer names and vintages.[5]
The initial court date for the criminal hearing was set for 9 September.[22] Due to the court date conflicting with the harvest period for wine grapes in the Northern hemisphere, on 6 May 2013, the judge decided to allow three witnesses (Aubert de Villaine of Domaine de la Romane-Conti, Christophe Roumier of Domaine Georges Roumier, and Laurent Ponsot of Domaine Ponsot) to testify before trial on videotape, as they would be unavailable to appear in Manhattan at that time.[23]
Kurniawan, Federal Bureau of Prisons #62470-112, was incarcerated at CI Reeves I & II Correctional Facility in Pecos, Texas. He was released on 7 November 2020. He was then handed over to the custody of Immigration and Customs Enforcement for deportation to Indonesia.[28] He had been living in the United States illegally since 2003,[29] and under the terms of his sentence he was to be deported upon his release. He was formally deported on April 8, 2021; he returned to Indonesia the next day.
The 2016 documentary film Sour Grapes directed by Jerry Rothwell and Reuben Atlas[34] retells the events in Kurniawan's wine fraud. The film states that as many as 10,000 counterfeit bottles created by Kurniawan may still be in private collections.[1]
The Global Lens 2008 film series, a touring program of narrative feature films from Latin America, the Middle East, Africa, Europe and Asia, resumes at Bates College with the 2006 Filipino drama The Bet Collector at 7 p.m. Thursday, Oct. 23, Room 104 of the Olin Arts Center, 75 Russell St.
In The Bet Collector, Amy, a family matriarch, makes ends meet by running a small convenience store out of her home. But in a struggling economy customers are scarce, and without the help of her husband or pregnant daughter, she is forced to supplement the family income by collecting bets for an illegal numbers game.
In this starkly realistic narrative, director Jeffrey Jeturian presents a captivating portrait of a once-proud woman, haunted by memories of a dead son and hounded by the police, and her fragile and lonely life as a kubrador (bet collector) on the streets of Manila.
The Global Lens series, now in its fifth year, premiered at the Museum of Modern Art in New York in January and is traveling around the country to more than 40 locations. Read more about the films and view the series trailer and individual film trailers.
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I sat on one side of my mother's hospital bed and my older brother, a vascular surgeon, sat on the other. We watched the monitors and defined the beeps, read the graphs, and recorded what they were telling us. Our 76 year old mother, now comatose, drifted towards her release from life. My cousin, Scott stood near the door. The sun was coming up and it angled from the East, across Long Island against the wall of the 11th floor room in Sloan Kittering. The year before she had a massive heart attack occluding 98% of the largest artery to her heart. Now she had pneumonia, worn down from the chemo to kill the multiplying T cells from Leukemia.
My mother rarely cried. I think I saw her cry once, but I can't recall the reason. This did not change as the year unfolded, facing open heart surgery with humor. She still had an adventurous spirit and the patience to accept the slow recuperation from the heart surgery, only to find that her red blood count kept mysteriously dropping. I'd spent the last twelve months going in, up, down, and out of hospitals with my mother. She became a professional patient, knowing which pill to take at what time. I watched her stop a nurse from giving her the wrong blood. Always polite to all around her, she screamed at this nurse before the needle pierced the vein of her arm, shocking the nurse before she could send the wrong blood type into my mother's system.
In that last year, we got to know each other in a way most mothers and sons never do. I became her primary care taker and realized that this woman had an unflappable calm that I'd never seen growing up, watching her cook, drive, pick up my father at the train station; drive and drop me or my brothers anywhere that kids go.
My brother and cousin knew that my mother would not have wanted me to stay on until she passed away that morning, not if there was an acting job to do. She was Italian and the work ethic permeated everything she and my father did. I didn't want to leave my brother there alone with her at the end, but I had a 9AM call for the first day on the feature film "The Bone Collector." I would play Alan Rubin, a Donald Trump mogul type, who gets trapped in a cab with his wife and then brutally murdered.
Most actors dream of working on a feature film, any feature film much less a block buster with Philip Noyce directing, Martin Bregman producing, Angelina Jolie and Denzel Washington starring. I left my mother's death bed headed to the kind of glory that most people can only imagine as some distant, unattainable dream. It was surreal, like stepping onto a beach in the middle of summer with the sun in front and pitch black behind. I'd spent a lot of time with my mother as the film approached, so she was well aware that I would be working with a group of that caliber. Cornelia Bregman, Marty's wife, became close with my mother and spent time with her in the hospital. Keeping her apprised of the film's pre-production process.
We shot the film in NYC, then up to Montreal, Canada. We finished on a sound stage in New York City where we shot my scene in the cab. There were teams of crew people rigging lights, setting the stage, camera's and last minute preparations. The cab itself was cut up into sections, so that the camera could get into any position that a whole cab would not allow. The green screen behind us on the sound stage gave Noyce and the crew a controlled back drop for the background of the cab. It made the cab magically appear to be traveling on the deadly run from La Guardia into the Bronx. We shot from 8 in the morning until 6 that night doing one camera angle and moving to another and then another. I gave each take everything I could pull up from my fears of claustrophobia. It was violent acting as my character attempted to kick, punch, and push the windows out to free his wife and get them out of a nightmare only a writer can imagine. 152ee80cbc
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