Fine art and the forger

Just for the fun of it, I think I’ll talk about painting to-day. No, not house painting; the paintings of the old masters. Have you ever wondered how much precious art is selling for these days? Well, you should have asked. I‘d have written this piece earlier. I have this thing about people who pay ridiculous, inflated prices for items of questionable value. And, nowhere is this more obvious than in the world of fine art.

For example, last year a painting by Jackson Pollack called “No 5, 1948” sold for 142.7 million dollars in a private sale. It’s true. I swear. It was in the news. And, the man who paid that outrageous price is walking around without a straight-jacket.

Yes. I agree. Jackson Pollack was a fine artist. But to suggest his work, either individually or collectively, is worth 142.7 million dollars is delusional. The same holds true for any other artist, from Picasso to Van Gogh. Fortunately, the truth is out there; so let’s look at the cold, hard facts.

Many years ago a fellow named Elmyr de Hory sold a forgery of a Matisse to the prestigious Fogg Art Museum at Harvard University. Hory was a skilled forger whose eye for detail allowed him to create forgeries that fooled even the most knowledgeable connoisseurs of fine art. And, Elmyr de Hory was not, is not, alone. There are many examples of forgeries that required forensic examination to distinguish them from the real thing. Little scraps of paint or canvas examined under a microscope to see if the paint or the canvas material was of the same composition as that most likely used by the original artist.

If a forgery is of such quality, won’t it be just as beautiful to look at as the original? If it requires forensic evidence to disprove its authenticity, won’t it be just as valuable to the student of art to demonstrate the finer points of the original artists’ technique, whether it be his use of colour, light and shade, perspective, etc.

And, if it’s true that an artist can replicate the work of another to such a degree, then why would one painting be worth 142.7 million dollars and the other worth only a “Go to jail” card from the Community Chest”? It makes no sense.

In a time long ago and far away, painting replicas of other peoples work was, in fact, an honoured tradition. It was done without malice, to preserve for posterity the works of the renowned artists of the day, and as a learning tool; to understand and appreciate the techniques that made some paintings works of art and others just pretty pictures.

It was not until the wealthy and powerful, including the church and the state, began trading art as a commodity that these replicas became “forgeries”. To be sure, if someone passed his work off as the work of another, more renowned artist, in an effort to increase the value of his own, he was doing a disservice to all concerned. But, if none but the most knowledgeable can tell the difference and, even then, not without the help of modern forensics, how can anyone say the originals are one of a kind or “priceless”.

If a so-called “priceless” work of art were destroyed and a good forgery hung in its stead, would the many visitors who pass through the Louvre on a daily basis be able to tell the difference? Would they not still gaze in awe and admiration at the forgery as they do now at the original?

And, if you agree that the awe, admiration and inspiration would likely continue then you’ll understand that paying 142.7 million dollars for paint on canvas is obscene.