Forgery of art

Forgery of art. False Impressions: The Hunt for Big-Time Art Fakes. From a material standpoint, the proliferation of fake art has surpassed its historical origins. The increase in wealth enables a broader audience to engage in art acquisition, leading to the production of counterfeit artworks in significant quantities. From a material standpoint, the proliferation of fake art has surpassed its historical origins. However, this evolutionary perspective on history has, at times, been broadened to include the human mindset, resulting in a distorted interpretation.

In an epigraph for this chapter, found in the introduction to Thomas Hoving's bestselling book, "False Impressions: The Hunt for Big-Time Art Fakes," he asserts, "What few art professionals seem to want to admit is that the art world we are living in today is a new, highly active, unprincipled one of fakery." Hoving identifies the "get-rich-quick attitude of the times and the raw commercialism of so much of contemporary life" as major contributors to the prevalence of deceptive activities in the art world.

Approaching the issue from a different perspective, art theorist Thierry Lenain, in "Art Forgery: The History of a Modern Obsession," argues that the perception of fake art as offensive has emerged from a less critical view, considering it merely as a trend of late modernity. Both Hoving and Lenain's theories, however, overlook the recurring nature of opinions about forgery. While financial gain largely drives the creation of fake art, this motivation is as ancient as the origins of forgery itself. The notion of forgery being offensive also traces back to the practice's inception, although a simultaneous undercurrent has accepted it as a form of freethinking mischief or anti-establishment protest.

It becomes evident that opinions about forgery are more recurrent than changing over time. The impetus for creating fake art is deeply rooted in the pursuit of financial gain, but simultaneously, the perception of forgery as offensive has persisted since its inception. These attitudes appear to be inherent aspects of fundamental human nature rather than products of a dynamic system.

The true distinction in outlook lies in the presence or absence of conditions conducive to forgery. Without these conditions, not only does the practice of forgery cease to exist, but even the conceptualization of it is also absent. This is the starting point for understanding the history of art forgery.

Artists are perceived not as heralds of novel perspectives on the world but as replicators of what has preceded them. Despite being respected and celebrated during their lifetime for their prowess as imitators, they gradually recede into obscurity a generation or two after their demise. In this context, the essence of an art object lies not in its creator but in the representation conveyed through its image. It is acknowledged that a new rendition of the image may deviate slightly from its predecessor, but such deviations are viewed as anomalies rather than indications of commendable ingenuity.

In alignment with the historical tradition of the Maori of New Zealand, contemporary artwork is crafted based on established institutional models. Apprentice sculptors commit intricate patterns to memory for execution on various objects through carving. While master craftsmen may garner prestige, the ultimate origin of the carving act is believed to emanate from the gods. Consequently, in societies like the Kwoma and Maori, where artistic accomplishment revolves around replication, and a replica holds equal cultural value as a previous image, there is no incentive to present a replica as anything other than what it is, rendering forgery nonexistent.

Adhering to a slightly different tradition, certain tribal societies permit the individualization of images by their artists, albeit under strict constraints. For instance, the Sioux tribes of North America adorned the exteriors of their tepees with representations conceived by the owners. Each owner depicted personal experiences, exclusively from dreams, and only after the dream received approval from a shaman and adhered to specific cultural patterns. Even when dreams were the inspiration, the ideas generated might have been influenced by preapproved myths.

In some cases, dreams are acknowledged as the conduit through which myths and their prototype images originate, entering mainstream cultural representation.

According to Tsimshian (Pacific Northwest) lore, the bear totem originated from an ancestor's dream, mimicking what seemed like an actual event. Subsequently, a ritual painting was crafted, serving as the model for future reproductions. Despite individual contributions stemming from dreams, the creation of images remains tightly controlled. Artistic accomplishment is perceived as divinely inspired, constituting communal knowledge rather than the product of individual genius. The concept of a virtuoso artist, whose unique works hold value enticing fraudulent replication, is conspicuously absent.