Technology sparks competition for 'sleeping' works of art

Every day, for decades, the old woman took the same path. She crossed the living room and followed the hallway that led to the kitchen of her house in Compiègne, a city in northern France. She was unaware that those steps were worth 24.1 million euros. The secret? A nondescript panel, similar to an icon, about 20 × 20 centimeters, hung near the pots. That work, painted in tempera, was Christ mocked, of Cimabue (1272-1302). It represents the transition from icon to painting. History of art. A very rare piece by the Florentine author belonging to a group of which only two works are known in the world. Distributed between the Frick Collection (New York) and the National Gallery (London). The French State has declared the tablet a national treasure and it is now part of the Louvre. Its discoverer is the dealer Eric Turpin. Famous because he found a canvas in a French attic in 2014 (Judith and Holofernes) attributed—with enormous doubts—to Caravaggio. Despite everything, it was bought (the price was never revealed, although there was talk of 30 million dollars) by the American hedge fund manager and billionaire Tomilson Hill.

Dusk descends on this era of sleepers: pieces misattributed or unattributed. In art jargon they are called sleepers and were an essential source of income for a market that barely reaches 1 billion dollars annually and whose value has fallen 37% since 2013. Jordi Coll —responsible for the Ecce Homo by Caravaggio that appeared at a Madrid auction—has stopped waking them up. “The competition, with new technologies, seems endless; not worth it. The future is private sales,” he reflects. Now countless programs on the smartphone warn of attributions, current prices or similar canvases. Technology replaces the look. And collectors know the “real” purchase costs of the gallerist. It's like playing poker with the cards face up. “The Internet allows everyone to discover sleepers,” ventures Eric Turpin. It is difficult with new applications for great works to go unnoticed. On the contrary. The speed of obtaining the pieces is increasing and also the competition between dealers and collectors. “And, of course, those sleepers are of interest, more or less important, dictated by fashion and capable of raising a clamor, often based on advertising purposes. What does not fall into this category can continue sleeping until the next change of taste,” criticizes Giuseppe Porzio, professor at the University of Naples.

The competition has never been so strong nor the search so easy. “Impossible to deny it: more and more competitors appear. But there are sleepers, what is missing is money to buy them,” says gallery owner Nicolás Cortés. He still believes in ignorance. Pure paradox. “Neither the auction houses nor the experts know much,” he defends. Perhaps because he has discovered oil paintings by Zurbarán, Maíno, Ribera, Goya, Artemisia Gentileschi, Orazio Gentileschi or Caracciolo. He clings to the impossibility of being excellent in a profession without effort. “I did not use search tools or applications to find the Salvator Mundi reveals Robert Simon, one of the discoverers (along with Alexander Parish) of the table attributed today to Leonado da Vinci. “The important thing is to have the knowledge and visual memory necessary to recognize an artist's style among unidentified works.” There is a war between the old job of intuiting and the new job of illuminating a screen.

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