I’m going to say something controversial about art, but first, let’s look at the following, in reference to the photograph above, from the New York Times:
Is it or isn’t it a Michelangelo? That is the question being pondered by art experts after the Italian state spent 3.3 million euros, or $4.2 million, last year to buy a small wooden crucifix attributed to that Renaissance genius.
Works by Michelangelo don’t come up for sale often, but the occasional drawing has nabbed as much as $20 million at auction. By comparison, the linden wood crucifix, which was sold by the Turin antiques dealer Giancarlo Gallino, is a bargain.
But there’s the rub. If it isn’t a Michelangelo, as some critics charge, then the state may have squandered its dwindling resources to buy a minor work — albeit an attractive one — in the middle of an economic crisis, when more than one billion euros have been cut from the Culture Ministry’s projected budget for the next three years.The pictured crucifix is what it is, isn’t it? Regardless of origin or authorship, its molecules are fixed; its shape is still and definite and real. It is not, in any artistic sense, “better” if it was made by Michelangelo. And it would not be, in any artistic sense, “worse” if I made it, or you did.
And yet it does matter—though not in an artistic sense—whether Michelangelo made the work above. We know it matters because people are willing to pay more for something if they know Michelangelo made it. Why do they pay more? Perhaps because there is more to art than art—there is history, and fashion, and myth.
Beyond all of that, some things are valuable because we believe them to be valuable. Why do people buy gold, for example? Some do because its value will increase, but its value increases only because people keep buying it. What would happen if people stopped believing this? It’s hard to imagine, because people have always valued gold.[1]
Michelangelo is gold, isn’t he? People have always believed him to be good, so he’s a safe investment. (And he was good, so that helps). The name Michelangelo is what we collect, even more than the art itself.
When the artist’s signature gives something value, then the artist is just a celebrity, signing an photograph, or a ballplayer, signing a ball. Rarity is the culprit that turns the art into collectibles. Conversely, duplication is the savior that preserves art on its own terms. A song can’t be locked in a safe; a movie can’t be enshrined in a museum. Books don’t hang by their lonesome on a wall. When art can copied and distributed, it can be evaluated as art, on its own merits. Paintings and statues can’t.To say this another way: Rarity encourages speculation, and speculation in the art market requires a constant evaluation of what others might think of a work, rather than a personal evaluation of it. That’s not to say that our judgment of mass-produced art—like movies and music and books—isn’t swayed by peer pressure or public opinion or even common mores … all of these things and more affect our evaluation of these things. But when it comes time to demonstrate how much we really value these things—that is, when we evaluate how much we are willing to pay for these things—actual, anticipated enjoyment and appreciation are our primary motivations. Yes, sometimes people go to an art-house flick just so they can speak knowingly at a cocktail party, but mostly, people go because they expect to enjoy it.[2] By contrast, although some people pay extravagant sums for famous paintings because they like them, famous paintings are purchased mostly as investment. (And later liquidated when money is tight).
So here’s my controversial theory: Music, movies, books, photographs … these things are easier to judge on their merits than statues and paintings, and thus, I’d contend, they are more purely art. This is the opposite of what most believe, right? Most think that paintings and sculpture are real art, whereas commercial, mass-produced stuff is just entertainment, or worse, product. But we judge this mass-produced stuff on the merits, and that’s more than I can say for paintings and sculpture. I don’t mean to suggest that a painting isn’t art, or than it can’t be great. It can. But even the most successful Hollywood director is capable of producing a financial flop, while even suspect doodles from great artists go for outrageous sums.
One more attempt at proof: Think of forgery and plagiarism. In forgery, a scoundrel pretends his work is that of someone else because the false attribution will make the work more valuable. People forge paintings and statues. By contrast, with plagiarism, people copy the actual work of others, but pretend it is their own. People plagiarize music and books and film. The difference shows what is valued—with paintings and sculpture, it’s the name of the creator; with music and movies and books, it’s the content.
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1. Unlike many libertarians, I’m not a proponent of the Gold Standard. The virtue of gold is that man can’t make it, and so he can’t deflate its value by mass production. But the value of gold can still change unexpectedly, by the discovery of more gold, for instance. Moreover, again, gold is only valuable because people think it is valuable; in this respect, it’s no different than a dollar bill. Indeed, I’d rather use a dollar bill; a dollar bill is a product of man, whereas gold is made by nature. I have more faith in man than nature. Maybe that means that I’m an optimist.2. A painting or a statue doesn’t require sustained attention—you can praise it and speak about it with little effort. If you notice it at the gallery and don’t like it, you just move along. But it is difficult to sit through a boring film, and this deters people from seeing films that they do not expect to enjoy. In this way, art that requires active or sustained engagement encourages its observers to judge it on its merits.
