Here’s a question for you: Does knowing that a particular work of art was painted by a famous painter make you like it more? How much does the name on the canvas influence what you think of it? Or even how much you like it? Would you like “Girl with a Balance” less if it were suddenly discovered that it did not come from the hand of Vermeer but from a copycat?
One of the hottest topics in the art world is the challenge of accurate attribution. Establishing the validity of a work of art is regarded as a central responsibility of museums and galleries. If a piece is presented to the public--whether in an exhibit or in an auction--as being the work of a certain master the claim has to be verified. As anyone knows who even halfway keeps up with the sales at high-profile auction houses, an accurate assessment of a painting's source can be a matter of millions or tens of millions of dollars. A year or so ago, the FBI seized a handful of paintings from a blockbuster show at the Orlando Museum of Art. They were purported to be heretofore unknown works by artist Jean-Michel Basquiat who died in 1988 at age 27. There were clues that some of them might not be genuine. A Los Angeles art auctioneer finally admitted to forging them. Clearly, they weren’t worth what was initially thought. Basquiat is hot, and gallery owners far and wide probably breathed a sigh of relief that they didn’t get caught up in the whole thing.
But what if it's not an investment? What if you just love it? A few years ago, I bought a print by a remarkable New Mexico artist named Brian Coble, of whom relatively few people have ever heard. I figure that the chances of my liking it because “it’s a Coble” are pretty small. I like it because of what it is, because of the visual impact of the image itself, how it looks. Not because A) it’s done by a famous artist whose name, when dropped at a party, would elicit Oooo’s and Ahhh’s; nor B) because it will appreciate through the years more than will all those shares of Radio Shack stock.
With art what matters most, what really counts in the end, is if you like it. If it brings you joy or comfort, if it makes you sad or brings you to the edge of inexplicable tears, if it awakens your sense of wonder, curiosity, or admiration, or even if it makes you uneasy, that’s what makes it art. Everything else is secondary. If you’re wondering if the work will be worth more next year than it is now, you’re not thinking of it as art.
