Appreciating the art of forgery and the richness and complexity it provides to the world of collectibles
I will not claim to study forgeries but do find the subject super interesting from a true crime perspective. In many ways, the non-fiction of it all resonates more than fiction itself. I also feel that professionals who work closely with precious objects could go Walter White and “professionally” try to use their knowledge to replicate masters or masterpieces.
In many ways, we also romanticize the forger with so many of these stories of their subversion like a self-righteous hacker proving a point against a major corporation or government. I am a sucker for a plot that distorts or even destroys the line between “good” and “bad”.
In essence, the autopsy of the fake reveals an infection of subplots and motives that will rubberneck any curious observer. The sheer subjectivity of the appreciation and attribution of these objects makes it perfect for omniscient gawking.
“It doesn’t stop it being a Freud just because it’s not good”
From the New Yorker article “The Case of the Disputed Lucian Freud”
This disputed Freud story has it all: science, the passionate artist trope, a collector desperate to authenticate his purchase, and all the subjectivity we have grown to love about the topic.
“Wolfgang's paintings had found their way onto auction blocks and into private collections, including that of actor Steve Martin.”
From the CNN article “The husband-and-wife forgers who fooled the art market — and made millions”
On the other hand, the Beltracchi case is the parasite we love to romanticize. The over-confident couple thriving in the lack of attribution objectivity of the field for their own gain. Deliberately reconstructing and successfully selling their fakes for big money. Yes, there are movies – several.
One of the most elevated and notorious forgers of our time, Mark Landis, actually donated his copies to museums for years suggesting that he merely wanted the attention.
“He messed with the wrong registrar.”
Matthew C. Leininger, the registrar whose work uncovering the trail of Mark Landis fakes forms the basis for the documentary about him.
Registrar, Matthew C. Leininger of the Cinncinati Art Museum, followed the breadcrumbs of fakes produced by Landis’ hand through the more than 40 museums in which he donated them and eventually became the subject of the documentary Art and Craft.
The title alone elevates Landis’ status from a forger to a craftsman. Multiple exhibitions validate his his technique and suggest an acceptance of his skills as a form of art. Even just typing “Mark Landis art” into a search yields plenty of results like “Mark Landis artist” before “Mark Landis art forger”. His reputation as an artist seems to rest alongside that of a forger. Perhaps this is the manifestation of the Jorge Luis Borges story “Pierre Menard, Author of the Quixote”.
After 165 years, remaining open during the Civil War, World War I, and World War II, the Knoedler Gallery sunsets after a highly-publicized scandal involving forgeries of many of the great 20th Century modern masters and the juiciest context and story imaginable. This Vanity Fair article brilliantly recounts it all.
“…the modest-size painting (15 inches by 281 1/2 inches) was found to contain yellow paint pigments not commercially available until about 1970.”
From the Vanity Fair article “A Question of Provenance”.
And, naturally, a movie places faces with the names.
Finally, The Fälscher Museum or “Fakes Museum” in Vienna, solidifies the reputations of many notorious pieces. By canonizing fakes in an institution, do we make them as interesting as an original? We admire their technique and the courage to use it in such a way. However, does it actually justify the act if we make movies about them, write articles about them, and place them in a museum? Maybe, but at least there are plenty of registrars to get to trace the fakes.
Fake it ‘Til You Make It.
A fake Rembrandt from the Fälscher Museum in Vienna houses, which shows only forgeries.
