Art is Dangerous

Art is dangerous.

— Picasso

A non-fungible token (NFT) is a digital deed. 

With it, you can prove you own the "original" of a digital asset (as opposed to a copy). 

An NFT is not the original—that's something else; a GIF, for example. 

But by owning the NFT, you hold the key to the kingdom.

By owning an NFT, you have owner's "bragging rights," plus the creator's permission to display his original asset on a screen; and, as importantly, you have a meter that tracks every copy of the asset that's ever existed or will exist.

You can also sell your NFT on the $25 billion secondary market for NFTs, if you want to cash out of it.

A year ago, the Charleston graphic artist Beeple sold an NFT for $69 million, still the record price for an NFT. 

Purchase of the NFT gave the buyer ownership of a digital collage Beeple titled Everydays.

$69 million. 

That's a hell of a lot to pay for the digital key to a GIF—even a GIF by Beeple—considering the danger inherent in an NFT. 

Lose the password and you lose everything. 

NFT owners have already forgotten their passwords; accidentally thrown them away; erased the disks holding them; and been victimized by hackers, who erase the passwords or steal them and hold them for ransom.

You can also lose the "original." 

The website hosting that GIF can disappear for any reason, at any moment. 

The NFT owner is left holding only a 404 message.

Insurance companies think fine-art NFTs are, in fact, extremely dangerous.

They want NFT owners to minimize the danger not only by safeguarding their NFT passwords, but by hosting the digital assets the NFTs unlock on their own servers.

They also want redundant, foolproof backup systems in place.

Insurance companies want owners as well to avoid transactions involving middlemen—art dealers—who could bungle data storage and handling.

I'm no Luddite, but I think owning original artworks on canvas, board, metal, and paper beats owning an NFT hands down.

Art is dangerous; owning it shouldn't be.

Above: Everydays by Beeple. GIF. Ding Dongs by Robert Francis James. Oil on canvas. Originally priced at $69 million, Ding Dongs is on sale for only $580 and comes classically framed.

Coming Soon!

 

Kai Hogan, Craftbuster

Two Seattle artists face federal charges for falsely representing themselves as Native Americans, according to Hyperallegic.

The story inspires me to pitch a TV series, Kai Hogan, Craftbuster.

As a kid, I loved watching reruns of Racket Squad, "real-life stories taken from the files of police racket and bunco squads." The show's gritty portrayal of cops and confidence men captivated me.

My series, set in 2050 in a dystopian Seattle (the city is largely underwater), follows the adventures of Special Agent Kai Hogan, an undercover investigator who works for the Indian Arts & Crafts Board, an agency of the Interior Department.

Agent Hogan's job is to chase down fraudsters in the Native American crafts industry. He carries a molecular scanner in an antique leather holster that, when inserted into a suspect's mouth, instantly detects the suspect's ancestry. Whenever he uses the device, Hogan snarkily says to the suspect, "23 and bite me.”

Meanwhile, Kai harbors a dark, personal secret: by purposely scanning himself one day, he has learned that he's less than 1% Native American, which means he's lied to the government to qualify for his job.

It's Blade Runner meets Racket Squad.

Hollywood, I hope you're listening.

But there's nothing funny about this kind of fraud. 

Lewis Rath and Jerry Van Dyke, the two real-life bunco artists, claimed they were Native Americans, although neither had tribal heritage, according to the Justice Department.

They were nabbed after US Fish & Wildlife agents made undercover purchases of jewelry and sculptures they were offering at two Seattle galleries.

Rath and Van Dyke have been charged with violating the Indian Arts & Crafts Act (IACA) of 1990, a truth-in-advertising law, and face four and two counts respectively of Misrepresentation of Indian Produced Goods & Products.

Each faces up to five years' imprisonment and $1 million in fines.

“By flooding the market with counterfeit Native American art and craftwork, these crimes cheat the consumer, undermine the economic livelihood of Native American artists, and impairs Indian culture,” a spokesperson for the US Fish & Wildlife Service Office of Law Enforcement told Hyperallergic.

Pie in the Sky

I was delighted to tell this couple the print they had picked up for less than the price of a pizza was the work of the most celebrated figurative artist of the 20th century.

— Will Gilding

A British couple bought an £18,000 print for £12, only because they liked the frame that came with it.

The print is one of an edition of 46 signed and numbered in 1998 by Britain's greatest 20th-century figurative artist, Lucian Freud.

The couple began bidding in auctions for fun last spring, during a Covid-19 lockdown. 

They bought a lot of two picture frames for £12 one day, and were given the print, attached to two pieces of cardboard, because it was part of the lot.

The husband decided to use the cardboard as a drip-pan while he worked on his motorcycle, and tossed the print aside. 

But it suddenly appeared one afternoon on the BBC show Secrets of the Museum.

The gleeful couple contacted auctioneer Will Gilding, who verified the print's authenticity and set its price at £18,000—a lot of dough for the price of a pizza.

The original etching would cost millions, Gilding says.

The lucky couple's print goes on auction in November.

Lucian Freud, grandson of Sigmund, is best known for fiercely realistic portraits of friends and family members, who often sat months on end for the finicky artist.

The couple's print depicts Freud's assistant, the artist David Dawson.

NOTE: £18,000 equals US$24,800.