I have been watching episodes of ‘Fake or Fortune’ on the BBC. If you haven’t watched it then it sees Fiona Bruce teaming up with art dealer Philip Mould to investigate the stories beneath the surface of paintings and sometimes sculptures.  Generally someone comes along with an art work which they bought or inherited but whose authorship is uncertain.  The work may currently have modest monetary value but if it is found to be ‘genuine’ and attributable to a famous artist then its value may rocket.  The interest in the programme largely lies in its detective nature as the team try to discover the provenance of the work and use modern science techniques to study the nature of the paint used or any hidden sketches beneath the surface.  At the end their evidence is presented to a world expert who then makes a final decision as to whether this work can indeed be attributed to the the artist in question.  So the final moments always see the ‘revelation’!

Now, my knowledge of art is minimal. I enjoy a trip to a gallery from time to time but I suspect that I do not  spend enough time really looking at a painting as opposed to simply seeing it. On the few occasions when someone has spoken to me about a painting and pointed out various features it has enriched my experience.  At home I have a two works of art on my walls. I call them ‘works of art’ because they are original pieces done by two different artists. No big names.  I bought them because I liked them. Otherwise I have various prints or images which I have liked.

But the interesting question concerns how we attribute ‘value’ to an image or art work. In some ways it is ridiculous.  If a painting is seen to be beautiful and to demonstrate a range of qualities then that beauty is consistent irrespective of the hand that painted it.  Hence any value should rest with the quality of the painting and not the attribution to a particular artist.  However, I think it is interesting that when you look at a piece of work which is ‘original’ whether that is a painting, a sculpture, a piece of embroidery or craft work it somehow contains the almost living presence of the person who created it. If it was made with love, great insight, great attention, then it becomes infused with those qualities.  I think this is why mass produced goods, although cheap and therefore accessible to many, often lack a sense of quality and why they can then so easily be disposed of.  So perhaps it can be possible to perceive a subtle difference between a work painted by Constable and one painted by somebody trying to copy his style almost to perfection. But to put a monetary value on that difference is something else.

In many ways monetary value is a great distortion and is ultimately related to the idea of ownership. Sadly that ownership can often stem not from a genuine delight in the work but in seeing it as an investment, a security, something which will make more money which can then be spent on something else!  As the artist is often dead when monetary value is attributed they are rarely the beneficiary! The notion of the ‘poor artist’ is well known.  I read that a house in Bristol valued at £300,000 had its value boosted to £5 million when Banksy painted an image on the end wall.  The joy of ‘original’ Banksy images is that they can’t really be owned but they can be shared. Anyone who walks past the end of that house in Bristol can enjoy the image. I think anyone who paid £5 million for the house should hang their head in shame!

All this reflection stemmed from this week's daily meditations from Richard Rohr. Yesterday he wrote about ‘receiving images’. He was exploring photography and the way in which we ‘take’ or ‘shoot’ pictures. He went further in pointing out how we ‘take’ time, ‘take’ a break, ‘take’ what’s mine.  He suggested shifting the idea of ‘taking’ to the idea of ‘receiving.’  This is about being aware of how words and phrases shape our experiences and practices.  So he suggests we replace ‘taking’ a photo with ‘receiving’ the image as a gift. What this shift in thinking does perhaps  is to create a new openness to what is around, a new presence, a slightly different way of looking.  He points out that this is what the artist does: present a different way of looking at something, to present the grace inherent in the ordinary.

https://cac.org/receiving-images-2021-08-19/