It’s pretty, but is it Art?
Last night, I watched one of the oddest movies I’ve ever seen. It was “F for Fake”, the last movie that Orson Welles made, and probably his least known work. It’s a movie that defies genre, neither documentary nor fiction; but rather an account of one man’s meditation on art, life, and the nature of truth. The man is Welles playing himself, and the truth in question is that of originality in art. The movie primarily deals with the life of one of the best known art forgers of the twentieth century, Elmyr d’Hory. His forgeries are reputed to adorn most of the great museums of the world, which display their fake Matisses in blissful ignorance. It also shows the man who chronicled Elmyr’s life, and shot him to world prominence - his biographer Clifford Irving. Irving apparently picked up some tips from his dealings with Elmyr, because his next work was the “authorized autobiography” of the famous eccentric and reclusive billionaire playboy industrialist Howard Hughes. Except the autobiography turned out to be a total fake, complete with forged letters and memos written in Hughes’ handwriting. From there, reality and imitation blend in bewildering chaos.


![[Print This Post] [Print This Post]](http://www.rantlust.com/wp-content/plugins/wp-print/images/print.gif)
Comments(1)