Forgeries

Sihame Bouhout
6 min readApr 3, 2022

What is real art?

It is difficult to live with uncertainty, and nothing unsettles our certainties more than a fake or a forgery than the feeling that we have been fooled. What happens when we do not know what we are looking at? How do names, titles, money, celebrity, and the aura of a work shape how we see a thing or anything? Ironically, a forged work of art can help. If what is wanted is a raw, authentic encounter with a work of art, perhaps a forgery can open that door and help us see without all of the prisms and filters that shape our perception of a thing. What is needed is to find a way to see from the deepest sources of the self. To see, really, as a child and maybe discover what really matters when we look at art.

Does the value of a work of art change how you look at it?

Would you lose interest if I told you that you are looking at a fake?

The answer is Yes; you will most likely lose interest. Let’s be honest; nobody is fighting crowds at auction houses or museums just to see forgeries.

We tend to need to put a value on art, and we like to place it in a nice setting to look at it.

We are told what to like, and if you do not like what everybody likes, then you know nothing about art.

Recently the famously anonymous Artist Banksy whose work has sold for anywhere between a thousand to upwards of a million dollars came up with a fascinating experiment.

You can see a video on his website where an older man (not him or maybe him) sells paintings in Central Park; the price was $60 for each piece.

In the video, you will notice that he had a hard time selling anything, and it eventually took him 4 hours to sell his first piece. The first customer bargained 2 for $60. In all, I believe he made a total of 400 dollars by the end of the day.

Aren’t we able to see beauty if we don’t have a big sign pointing it out?

I, for instance, love fake artwork. I love the duality and the almost schizophrenic sense the Artist communicates. And Yes, I believe that forgers are Artists.

Even when recreating a piece of art, they unconsciously add their own touch or style to it. And I love that something powerful inside them forces it out. It could just be their ego, a desire to exist within a masterpiece. Sometimes it is subtle; sometimes, it is less subtle.

I think it is beautiful. It creates a style inside a style. And it becomes something very unique.

The naïveté of the artist sometimes touches me. Like when it is a very obvious fake, and he still thinks that he can dupe people. Sometimes I appreciate the talent because it is really well-executed, and the personal touch is subtle.

If I could, I would collect forgeries.

My job was to authenticate artifacts. My clients were auction houses, art galleries, private collectors, and museums. My services were asked when there was a questionable object. I looked inside art.

Each material gives different information. I dated or gave an estimated age to a piece of art.

The material can be ancient, but it still can be a forgery, an antique forgery.

Because forgeries have always existed: Roman sculptors produced copies of Greek sculptures. Nobody really cared; artists were anonymous. The purpose of art was for historical reference, religious inspiration, or simple aesthetic enjoyment.

With time, art became a market, and the rules became different.

After the Renaissance, the middle class became wealthier, creating an important demand for art. The law of supply and demand began. Prices increased, and forgers entered the dance.

As I said, forgers are artists. Michelangelo produced a fake. It was a Sleeping Cupid Figure that he treated with acidic earth to make it look ancient.

The fraud was discovered, and so was Michelangelo. He was only 20 years old; it was such a significant work that it helped him establish his reputation. And the forgery entered a collection with ‘genuine’ art. This sculpture eventually burned in a fire at a palace in London in 1698. Even though it was a fake, this sculpture would have been priceless today.

One of the most interesting parts of my job was the relationship I had with my clients. Most of them felt a sense of connection towards me because I kept their biggest secrets, which created a special bond.

Their reaction to the news I delivered was always different, but one thing they all had in common was their passion. They are blinded by passion, they love their jobs very much, and above all, they love art. And sometimes, this powerful love starts to make them irrational. They will ask questions that defy logic.

I have no way of knowing certain information unless I have a time machine. Science is the new God, and people’s expectations are at an ultimate high.

But science has more questions than answers. The reality is that there was far more information that I did not know. I had to do extensive research and rely on scientific experts.

People do not necessarily like to hear the truth. It breaks so many dreams, and I did not like to be in the position of breaking those dreams.

As a result, I have to stop being the expert explaining the why and how through scientific details and logic. And instead become their mother, their psychologist. I tell them that it’s all right, that everything will be fine. And that finding out that they have a fake can save them from so much trouble.

I realized that often it is not about the financial loss but more about the loss of finding a treasure and discovering that it does not exist.

We are all consumed by the desire of our unrealistic expectations. We have all fallen in love with an idea, with the fabricated feeling that somewhere, something, someone, will satisfy us in a way nothing ever did before.

So, I wondered if I was the only one finding beauty in forgeries. I asked one of my clients whose opinion I truly valued. Did he ever find a fake he liked?

He told me it is a difficult and strange relationship with art dealers and that he actually bought a fake once. It was an African Mask that he saw in a gallery window, and he said: “I knew it was fake, but it was so beautiful that I had to buy it.” But then, right away, he put it in a trunk, hid it in a storage place in his house, and locked it away, to never look at it again. But he said: “I know this piece by heart, every corner, every detail about it.” He was haunted by a mistake that he loved.

Talking to him made me realize that: Art calls for an internal dialogue, an inner voyage through creation.

Museums have never been so popular. Neuroscience shows that the contemplation of a work of art activates certain brain areas. If we like something, the circuitry of reward and pleasure lights up, as if in a situation of seduction.

As a result, visiting an exhibition de-stresses, stimulates, and allows us to escape all at the same time. It is like a journey beyond time and space that pushes our usual limits.

We start a dialogue with an artist who expands our field of vision. In short, art is a breath of oxygen that humans need. A need so strong that we have found it since the beginning of humanity: Prehistoric drawings on caves, hieroglyphs in Egypt…

So how should we look at art? Maybe by first eliminating this question.

It is ok if you do not understand what you are looking at. We are in an era when we are told all the time how to understand art and everything associated with it.

We will probably have an app for that in the future if it does not already exist.

Everything is pre-chewed for us at all times to fit in a linear way of thinking. We stop thinking for ourselves; we stop being our unique beautiful selves to fit in, not look ridiculous if we lack knowledge.

There is nothing to know and nothing to not know in art.

There is a painting by Andy Warhol called Sunset. I was looking at it with my niece, who was six years old, and I asked her:

- Do you like it?

- She said: “Yes.”

- I said: “Do you know why you like it?”

-She said: “It makes me feel warm.”

Be a child.

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