What do NFTs say about art?

Vince
6 min readNov 15, 2021

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Pictured: A mosaic of hundreds of NFT artworks in an arbitrary pattern.

I see a lot of people discuss NFTs (IE: Non-fungible tokens), and it’s always in the context of digital art. It’s very interesting to me. First off I should explain the basics of an NFT, it is not, as many think, a way to just sell digital art.

Perhaps you’ve heard of the poor man’s copyright, which is when you take a copyrighted work and email it to yourself. In such a way you produce a timestamp which proves that, at this point in time, you were in possession of the creative work, presumably before anyone else was.

And then if you’re in a courtroom dispute, you can print out the email or forward it, and show that you had this copyrighted material prior to anyone else, and in doing so, you have a good proof of ownership.

Or at least a good proof of ownership given your lack of budget.

The NFT is the email, not the work. It is a deed to something, simply put. I can make an NFT of the golden gate bridge and sell it, just like how people have done in the past with deeds. Does that mean I made a legitimate transaction? Not really, it’s still fraud. NFTs can prove ownership, but they require legal recognition just like any other proof of ownership.

And the NFT debate regarding digital art is hardly a new one. It is simply rendered down to its very bones, and becomes a very abstract idea of itself.

After all, what kind of idiot would spend millions, possibly billions, on the original Mona Lisa, when you can just get a print for five Euros in Paris?

Is it any less beautiful? Does it do much less to liven up your dining room? Is it not still something to look at and appreciate? On top of that, no art thief is going to be interested in your print.

So why would you bother paying such a huge price difference for an item that is functionally indistinct from its original?

Obviously the counterargument is that the original was touched by the artist. It has the brushworks, the labour, the dedication, the commitment. Admittedly these things are completely implicit, and can’t actually be seen in the work beyond perhaps the subtle bevels of the brush strokes.

And moreover, does not a print possess this as well? Is it not, in fact, an embodiment of the literal oeuvre?

(Sorry I said oeuvre by the way I know that only assholes say oeuvre.)

Because in order for the print to exist, the labour which produced anything printable must exist. So when a digital artist captures this unique essence, this signature of labour, and frames it in an NFT, what is the difference? Has the digital artist not used their own labour? Have they not in fact done what Da Vinci did with brushes, except with a stylus?

Personally I am of the opinion that the print and the original is the same. In fact, they are part of the same process which makes either one have this intangible value, which makes the NFT have its value too.

Because every time you print an artwork, it does not lose its value to the artist, only to the market. To simply have a single production of your work is a very depressing outlook compared to seeing millions. When an artist sees their work in not one living room, but a million, that artist knows they are beloved, and seen, and recognised. That they have made some kind of impact in this world with their expression.

Mona Lisas are a dime a dozen, and that is precisely what makes them so valuable.

To make good art is to make bad products, and to make bad art is to make good products. It’s a paradox. Look at all the exclusive and highbrow trash that pollutes fine art galleries, and then look at what people hang in their living room.

Compare Anish Kapoor’s “Turning the world upside down”, a chromatic eyesore currently aiding the Palestinian liberation efforts by making the Israel Museum look depressing… to that of Dogs Playing Poker.

Pictured: Anish Kapoor’s turning the world upside down; A reflective time glass looking thing surrounded by a backdrop of grey concrete, thereby making the art itself look like a warped image of an inner city playground. It looks genuinely depressing.
Pictured: Dogs playing poker. A painting which is highly self-described by its title. The dogs all sit around a circular table and hold playing cards like humans.

Dogs Playing Poker can likely be found in every city in the world in someone’s lounge or living room. It has inspired artists to do all manner of versions, including their own take on the motif, and varieties featuring other animals and settings. It is almost universally recognisable. And let’s say you got one as a house warming gift, would you care even the slightest if it was the original or not? Or would you simply rejoice with a “Hey! Dogs playing poker! This will look great in the atelier!”

(Sorry I said atelier by the way I know that only assholes say atelier.)

NFTs is a wonderful contradiction of this, and what it says about art is that good art doesn’t check its essence at the publishing office. Good art doesn’t hermetically seal its work into some kind of possessive sentimentalism. Rather, good art can carry its impact, meaning, joy, passion and inspiration in every copy and reproduction.

Good art plays on the intuitions of the human spirit, and it communicates something to us all. Good art is also self-aware. It knows that it is novel, that it is not some driving force of the world, but rather a mirror that reflects it. It does not try to command the world, it simply tries to say something about it.

And the best art of all is generally not all that profound in some greater abstract sense. In fact, very often it isn’t. Profound art has to be explained, and interpreted, it is always by its very nature pretentious, because it is an unfamiliar medium and yet it tries to express something. You cannot have it both ways.

That is a central contradiction, how can something be unfamiliar, and yet express? How can something speak without a known language? How can something, in its hubris, try to move outside of definitions, and yet demand to be defined? It’s a waste of time.

And does this mean nothing can be profound? Of course not! Things can still be original, but they have to meet people at their own terms. After all, you got a poker table, playing cards, and dogs. None of which are original. But yet look at how they are combined into something that is likely to put a smile on anyone’s face. That’s profound, it’s just not a very exclusionary way of being profound.

I think the most resonating art is rather the kind that captures something we all know in a new light, and says something about it. It is not about these abstract ordeals, about the oeuvres, about the “process” or the personality of the artist, it is nothing which may be represented either by the original Mona Lisa, or by NFTs. It is rather something else, something that makes a lot of high street art types very insecure. It’s about the mind of the artist.

Good art is clever, poignant, often simple and approachable. It communicates something that can be new and familiar at the same time. Whether it is meant to spark joy, imagination, tragedy, fear or anguish.

Pictured: Vincent Van Gough’s starry night.

When I work nights at my job, I pass by a starry night over a harbour. And yet what makes Van Gough’s painting so special is not that it is a photograph of this view, but rather his perspective of it. The patterns, the tranquility, the lights, the emphasis and hues. The passion that stirs throughout the scene. How it tells us something about the impact that this had on Van Gough. What makes it beautiful is what an excellent job he does at making it feel sublime each and every time you look at it. And that feeling is there whether it’s an original, an NFT, or just a framed print from a gift store.

And in the same way, I find NFTs to be interesting, because much like a good painting, it tells us something new about something that has been all too familiar since the first ever art collector stepped into the first ever auction exhibit.

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