Phaedrus about forgery of art

Phaedrus about forgery of art. Roman fabulist from the first century AD, stand as timeless gems that continue to resonate with readers across the ages. Phaedrus, a master storyteller, utilized the medium of fables to impart profound lessons about human nature, society, and morality. Little is known about the personal life of Phaedrus, adding an air of mystery to the fabulist's identity. What remains clear, however, is his skill in transforming everyday occurrences and moral dilemmas into engaging narratives that captivate and educate. His fables, written in Latin, were adaptations of the earlier Greek Aesop's fables, yet Phaedrus infused them with his own unique flair and cultural context.

Phaedrus's fables are succinct narratives featuring animals or mythical creatures, each embodying human qualities and flaws. Through these anthropomorphic characters, he wove tales that explore the complexities of virtue, vice, cunning, and folly. One of Phaedrus's notable fables is "The Fox and the Grapes," which underscores the human tendency to disparage what is unattainable. This tale, along with others like "The Boy and the Filberts" and "The Frog and the Ox," serves as a mirror reflecting the follies and foibles of human behavior.

Beyond the surface of his narratives, Phaedrus used fables as a medium for social commentary and satire. His fables often took aim at the hypocrisy and absurdities of Roman society, offering a subtle critique of contemporary issues. In "The Ass in the Lion's Skin," for instance, Phaedrus exposes the folly of those who attempt to mask their true nature with false appearances, a theme with enduring relevance in any era.

According to historical accounts, some of the replicas were presented as genuine originals, a notion supported by references from Roman authors regarding imitations executed in the style of Greek artists. Phaedrus's quoted statement draws attention to the common practice of artists signing their works with illustrious names from the past to command higher prices. Satirical writers contributed social commentary by ridiculing the belief that all historical works cherished by Roman art enthusiasts were authentically genuine.

Martial's witty remark about a collector exemplifies this skepticism, stating, "You alone have the productions of Phidias' graver, and the labors of Mentor... Yet, amidst all your silver, I wonder Charnus, that you possess none pure." Petronius, in The Satyricon, similarly critiques a public picture gallery where supposed antiques are accepted as masterpieces, stating, "I beheld works from the hand of Zeuxis, still undimmed by the passage of years, and... the crude drawings of Protogenes, which equaled the reality of nature herself."

Beyond literary commentary, physical evidence in the form of artworks from the Roman period bearing the inscribed signatures of famous Greek artists from prior centuries raises suspicion. The sheer volume of such works and the occurrence of multiple artists producing works under the same name, like five sculptors fashioning works by "Myron," contribute to doubts about authenticity. Many works carrying prominent names exhibit stylistic features incompatible with those names, further fueling skepticism.

Instances of incompatibility, such as a "Praxiteles" sculpture in the Louvre with a Roman Imperial look and the "Callimachus" relief at the Capitoline Museum displaying a mannerist design consistent with late Hellenistic times, raise red flags about authenticity. Gems bearing the names of Greek masters like Pheidias, Skopas, and Polykleitos, who were not known to have worked in that medium, also contribute to suspicions of fraud.

While it has been widely accepted that ancient Rome was a significant point in history where art fraud became prevalent, a skeptical view suggests caution in applying modern thinking to the past. The "old master" names inscribed on Roman sculptural copies may not have aimed to deceive as originals but rather to designate the specific artists being copied. Another interpretation proposes a complex system of patronymics, where individuals signing works in the name of a deceased master were either legally bestowed with that name or were family members continuing the workshop through multiple generations.

This challenge to the assumption of fraud notes that Roman law lacked provisions for dealing with art forgery, contrasting with specific prohibitions against counterfeit documents and currency. The implication is that counterfeit art may not have been a significant concern. While literature from the era includes fictional examples and sarcastic remarks about fake artworks, there is a notable absence of reported real-life instances to substantiate these claims.

Considering the skeptical perspective, it remains reasonable to assert that art forgery existed in ancient Rome, although the extent of its prevalence remains speculative. The art industry, marked by a plethora of legitimate copying, does not negate the potential existence or promotion of certain works as forgeries. Even if the inscriptions of "old master" names on some works served merely as labels or were legitimate signatures of multiple artists sharing the same name, the demand for originals evident in the substantial sums collectors occasionally paid likely prompted the presentation of newly created works as authentic antiques.

The attribution of famous artists' names to styles and mediums they never engaged with remains unexplained by the patronymics theory. The absence of documented instances of forgery could be attributed to the scarcity of surviving records after two millennia, coupled with the Romans' lack of contemporary means for detection, such as scientific testing and a sophisticated level of connoisseurship.

Regarding Roman law's absence of provisions for art forgery, it is noteworthy that even in modern, highly developed legal systems, such as those in the United States, the United Kingdom, Australia, and Germany, art forgery is not explicitly designated as a crime.