Judging art and creative works is an entirely subjective process. There are no steadfast checkboxes for how good a painting might be or how revolutionary a novel is. However, there are benchmarks that have been long established for value and caliber of artistic vision, one of them being originality. To be labeled “original” is the utmost compliment for an artist and is often the determinant of artistic merit. However, in the modern art market, originality is often equated to worth, removing the importance of meaning within an artwork, and turning art into a potential investment. Originality is no longer a black and white label, especially within the visual arts, and the validity of originality is often given by experts who hold power. Therefore, originality has become a tool used to contribute monetary value to works of art, and through this process, the importance of language and power can be truly recognized.
Disputes over originality are often fought out in court, over copying a melody, or using a photograph (like the 2022 Supreme Court case involving Andy Warhol’s use of a photographer’s work). However, one cannot go back to the 16th century and litigate the authorship of an old masterpiece. This is the ongoing problem with a painting called Salvator Mundi (meaning Savior of the World in Latin), which has disputed attribution to the Italian great, Leonardo da Vinci. In 2005, Alexander Parish, an art speculator (someone who buys cheap art and tries to sell it for a higher price in the future) and Robert Simon (a former Upper East Side gallery owner with a doctorate from Columbia) bought the Salvator Mundi at a small auction for $1,000. Over a decade later, in 2017, the painting sold at Christie’s for $450.3 million. However, it is still not agreed upon, by experts or the public, that it is truly the world of Leonardo da Vinci. Some believe it is by a student of his, partly by da Vinci, or even that attribution can never be certain due to damage. The painting acts as the perfect icon through which to discuss originality. Salvator Mundi’s attribution to da Vinci gave it monetary value and its nickname as the “male Mona Lisa” gave it worldwide recognition. The painting’s status as an original work is contested, but it still set a record for the most expensive artwork ever sold at public auction. So, does originality really matter? Furthermore, who gets to have the final say on originality? Those who made money off the sale are those who pushed its attribution hardest. Does originality only matter if it makes people money?
Originality, as defined by US copyright law, “requires independent creation by a human author and a minimal degree of creativity. Independent means that one made the work themselves without copying and according to the Supreme Court, to be creative, a work must have a “spark” and “modicum” of creativity” (U.S. Copyright Office). On the other hand, John Berger, an art critic, in his book The Ways of Seeing describes originality as relating “uniqueness of place” (Berger 19), and particular moment in space-time a painting was created. Therefore, if a painting is removed from its original boundaries, it has transformed in meaning, and sometimes, is no longer original. From both of these definitions, originality is extremely difficult to decide. Who gets to establish the “minimal degree of creativity”? However, his gray area of originality is of great importance to the art world. This is because originality is no longer based on creativity, but is intrinsically tied to monetary worth, making the art world profit driven. The Salvator Mundi shows us how the definition of originality has shifted in practice. The image depicting Christ as savior of the world is not unique. If creativity and singularity were true markers of originality, then experts would assign meaning and value to one of the thirty other versions of the Salvator Mundi. Whether it was an original da Vinci was of utmost importance to the art world to assign it value, not to bask in the painting’s groundbreaking nature. Not only has originality shifted in its practical applications, but the painting’s infamy is what happens when originality is praised too highly. The work’s meaning is disregarded, and instead its artist is the issue at hand. Berger says that “the meaning of the original work no longer lies in what it uniquely says but in what it uniquely is” (Berger 21).The Salvator Mundi has become a debate, rather than a creative work. If it is no longer a creative work, then it should no longer be original, from the US copyright definition, but then it wouldn’t be making people money. So, it is hailed as original and worthy.
If you asked any first-year art history student about da Vinci’s style of painting, they would say it is inimitable. The original of a given work (especially one by an old master) should be stark in contrast to any form of reproduction, as John Berger argues in The Ways of Seeing. He asserts that, “Even a reproduction hung on a wall is not comparable in this respect for in the original the silence and stillness permeate the actual material, the paint, in which one follows the traces of the painter’s immediate gestures” (Berger 33). However, Dianne Modestini was given the daunting task to replicate the Salvator Mundi perfectly. After the painting was purchased in 2005 at auction, the new owners brought it to Modestini, an art conservator, and had her clean the old overpainting, which was covering massive sects of damage. Then, she covered it all up. It now looks as though it has been painted for the first time. Art conservation is usually minimal, removing yellow varnish or dirt. However, in this case, Modestini had to restore almost a fourth of the painting.
Art conservators say their job is to restore the work to its original state and how the artist wanted it to be viewed, with no influence of their own style or interpretation. However, the amount of conservation completed can translate into influence rather than acting as maintenance on the artwork. Many experts believe that attribution will never be possible due to the damage of the painting and the volume of subsequent retouching. I would argue that it is no longer an original work. Modestini conserved it extremely well, but her influence on how we view the painting can be interpreted as a reproduction. The Salvator Mundi might appear the same, but it is now a product of the 21st century. The painting was reconstructed because our modern day ideals push us to want to see a “complete” painting. The Salvator Mundi is now physically modern, with new paint, and also culturally modern, with its influence no longer based in history. If the painting were not conserved, we could discuss its history or how it became so damaged, but buyers want the feeling of owning a whole Leonardo. John Berger says in Chapter One of The Ways of Seeing that “in the age of pictorial reproduction the meaning of paintings is no longer attached to them; their meaning becomes transmittable” (Berger 26). The Salvator Mundi was once original, but has now been reproduced, and its meaning has been transmitted and transformed. It is now used as a symbol of debate, rather than a religious relic. The painting no longer has an impact as a unique, original masterpiece of creative splendor, but now it is a status symbol to own the “lost Leonardo.” This shows how originality no longer invokes unfounded emotional thought or artistic innovation but is a signifier of rarity to sell on the market. In short, originality has warped along with the Salvator Mundi, now a product of our capitalist society.
The Conservation of Salvator Mundi, No Not That One.
The creators of our capitalist society, experts who play a role in our everyday lives, can also be critiqued for how they shape originality. Walker Percy in “The Loss of the Creature” discusses how experts impact our interpretation of original works and experiences so that they no longer belong to us. Experts have turned originality into a concept that strips meaning and gives value. With the Salvator Mundi, Modestini has assumed the role of the expert, the public of the consumer, and she has given viewers a new interpretation of the Salvator Mundi to experience. We see the painting through her modern conservation, no longer in its original state. Berger would say that she has stolen from us an experience through her expertise. This is an act of mystification, an obscuring of capitalist or social dynamics which impedes critical consciousness. Berger says that “Mystification is the process of explaining away what might otherwise be evident” (Berger 15-16). I concede that she has restored the artwork to its state before damage, but not to its original state. Through her actions, Modestini has taken away the honest, innocent experience of viewing a painting (da Vinci or not) and given us a debate to be a part of. This is the power of the conservator in the art world. They define originality through their interpretation of a painting, not considering their impact on how we view the work as consumers. Originality becomes a label not rooted in law or actuality but formulated to appeal to other experts: collectors who can afford such works.
If originality is now a facade, then it further allows for experts to take interpretation away from the consumer. In this case the consumer is a viewer, and the experts consist of many, but in part, the curator. Berger writes that now, “the majority take it as axiomatic that the museums are full of holy relics which refer to a mystery which excludes them: the mystery of unaccountable wealth. Or, to put this another way, they believe that original masterpieces belong to the preserve (both materially and spiritually) of the rich” (Berger 25). Paintings are hung in museums, in an exhibit specifically curated to alter the experience of the viewer, and therefore, the curator is an expert that removes the viewer from an innocent, sovereign experience. The power that museums and curators hold continues to widen the wealth gap in the art world. If all the art belongs (whether literally or metaphorically), to wealthy institutions, then it no longer belongs to the individual viewer. Importantly, this ownership and power of the curator allows them to assign originality wherever it may benefit them. In the case of the Salvator Mundi, it was hung in a museum, the tag read “by Leonardo da Vinci,” even without confirmation from other experts, and the ticket sales flooded in. Here, originality was a label used for monetary gain and prestige. After this, the Salvator Mundi became widely recognized as “the lost Leonardo.” Percy writes that “the measures which the museum curator takes to present the thing to the public are self-liquidating.” In other words, displaying art within a museum or exhibit hinders the honest presentation of the artistic work. He continues, “The upshot of the curator’s efforts is not that everyone can see the exhibit but that no one can see it.” Percy tells us how art becomes the curators, no longer the viewers. They own it, tell the public it is an original masterpiece worth hundreds of millions, and so it becomes that. The curator has altered reality and altered the concept of originality, applying the label where they see fit.
In the modern art world, major institutions or political powers, which are often the same, are the final arbiters of originality. Berger writes that “the bogus religiosity which now surrounds original works of art, and which is ultimately dependent upon their market value, has become the substitute for what paintings lost when the camera made them reproducible” (Berger 24). The elite fabricate “bogus religiosity” and bogus originality to create value. Originality, over everything, is a symbol of worth. Art dealers, museum directors, collectors (often large corporations), want original works of art because they are better investments. The paintings will sit in an office or free port (a free economic zone where goods in transit are exempt from customs duty) and continue to appreciate while they deteriorate physically. In the case of the Salvator Mundi, it has not been seen since 2017, when it was bought by Prince Badr bin Abdullah Al Saud on behalf of the Saudi government. Many think it is on his yacht. John Berger analyzes how hiding the painting away changes its social impact. He says, “The uniqueness of the original now lies in it being the original of a reproduction. It is no longer what its image shows that strikes one as unique; its first meaning is no longer to be found in what it says, but in what it is” (Berger 21). After it is uncovered in the future, visitors will not dwell on the power of Christ or the Catholic Church in 16th century Italy, but rather about the mystery behind the authorship. Is it or is it not an original Leonardo da Vinci? To discuss originality is to strip the painting of its meaning and turn it into an object of monetary worth.
Hardly anyone cares about the painting itself. If anyone does, it is Dianne Modestini, the conservator, and in many ways, she has made it her own, and through her actions, she changes the definition of originality. The painting is not hailed as “original” because it carries such renowned cultural knowledge, but because of its uniqueness as a material item in a supply and demand economy. Followers of Leonardo, students of his, and other artists of the renaissance, have painted near identical versions of the Salvator Mundi, and they have exponentially less value than the Salvator Mundi attributed to da Vinci. This is because if the Salvator Mundi is not original, then someone cannot claim to own a Leonardo da Vinci painting. It is human greed and wealth that has turned originality into an issue of debate. To be original, and therefore, independent and inimitable, is to be worth money, not because of a unique spiritual value, but because rarity is priceless.
It is in the hands of experts (conservators, curators, art dealers, institutions, corporations, entire countries) that originality is decided, and through this, they strip the public of a service. The experts do not allow the viewer to be overwhelmed by creativity and feeling when viewing a painting from centuries ago. Rather, the viewer thinks about how it is different from the Mona Lisa. The consumer thinks about the issue of attribution and the sale price of the Salvator Mundi. As Percy says, “the danger of theory and consumption is a seduction and deprivation of the consumer.” Everybody is worse off through the manipulation of this painting, even the experts, as they have deprived themselves of viewing the original. Percy would claim that an original, or unique, experience of the painting no longer exists, and everyone who gets to see the painting only experiences a fraction of its true impact. This is because works like the Salvator Mundi are warped through modern culture, through reproduction, mystification, and expertise, to entirely change meaning. Therefore, originality is a tool for the wealthy to look wealthier, no longer attributing true artistic proficiency and innovation. The only way out is a rejection of originality as a basis of prestige. Berger would say we must acknowledge the expert manipulation of the Salvator Mundi to recognize its original nature and original impact. However, because of the pervasive influence of capitalism, I don’t believe viewers can reclaim originality as their own anymore. In other words, we cannot allow originality to be an impactful label for art viewers. Instead, we may hail innovation, collaboration, or avant-garde productions as valuable, and the public may shape what is equivalent to value in the art world. Eventually, the public may transform the experts’ interpretations of art in the same way they have shaped us.
Bibliography
Office, U.S. Copyright. “What Is Copyright?” What Is Copyright? | U.S. Copyright Office, https://www.copyright.gov/what-is-copyright/.
Percy, Walker. The Message in the Bottle: How Queer Man Is, How Queer Language Is, and What One Has to Do with the Other. Picador, 2000.
Berger, John. Ways of Seeing. 1972. British Broadcasting Corporation, 1972.