Museums and Reproduction: Is It Worth More than Production Itself?

We all inhabit a world that constantly perpetuates the free flow of media, enabling our lives to not only be surrounded but defined by the images we constantly see. Whether it is advertising, graffiti, or Instagram posts, our lives have become inseparable from our visionary senses. In fact, they have become the foundation block of our conception of the world. 

With gross advancements in technology and graphic design, we now have the capacity to encapsulate some of the most absurd, unthought of concepts. This so called Digital Age has empowered us to overcome all gaps and limitations posed by verbal language, as art’s fluid, creative nature can fill in for what words can’t explain. Indeed, art has become an extension of all of our communication.

Surely, this concept is closely tied with the modern tradition of pictorial reproduction: back in the 17th century, physical art as well as the themes that permeated it, was highly restrictive and was primarily dictated by an exclusive group of individuals -  the upper class. However, due to reproduction, this power has been relocated into the hands of the mass. According to the ideas of Walter Benjamin, the idea of art reproduction has obliterated the idea of authority.

Today, anyone can visually access any artwork they please, as reproductions of even the most distinguished, and precious paintings are constantly in active distribution, online and in the real world.

Additionally, in Ways of Seeing, John Berger claims that in this age of pictorial reproduction, the meaning of images are no longer attached to the original work. Instead, they have become transmissible. For instance, we can now view a historical masterpiece, such as The Birth of Venus by Sandro Boticelli on our phones, as we are comfortably seated in our living room sofa with a cup of coffee in hand.

Before the spectator would have to travel to the painting and comprehend it in the context for which it was intended for, such as a church or a royal palace. Now, art travels to us. We are not observing images in the environment that they were originally created in or intended for, but we discern them from our own standpoints attaching our own new meanings to them. 

Consider one of the most distinguished works of art known to mankind - the Mona Lisa by Leonardo Da Vinci. To see this image with one’s own eyes, individuals had to pay a voyage to the Louvre, and though the painting itself is surprisingly small in size and is always congested with star struck tourists, it is still close to impossible to describe the thrill of seeing this masterpiece in real life. 

As aforementioned, today we no longer have to pay a visit to the Louvre to obtain such enjoyment. Not only do millions of reproductions of the Mona Lisa exist in a variety of forms, ranging from mugs, to posters, to actual canvas paintings, but one can even obtain a more comprehensive look at the masterpiece through theLouvre’s website: the detail with which one can digitally observe every crack, breach, and line of paint, along with even being able to trace the path of Da Vinci’s brush, is impeccable.

This phenomenon uncovers a new Modern Day dilemma. How can paintings still maintain their value in a digitally evolving world that endows us with limitless opportunities? The answer is not simple, and potentially even illogical. 

Reproduction and digital developments have arguably eroded paintings’ value down to their material price. For instance, Mona Lisa’s astronomical market value of around $860,000,000 constitutes an overwhelming aspect of its splendor. Hence, much of the allure no longer revolves around the artwork itself, the genius of the artist, or even its historical context, but rather in its price or - as some might even say - its pricelessness.

We are riveted by the unattainability and the rarity of such works, rather their actual contents. 

The issue with being fixated on such attributes is that they are rather superficial and fail to divulge the true value of seeing a painting in real life. If many individuals can already presume the pricelessness of Van Gogh’s or Da Vinci’s works, then what would urge them to see the paintings in real life? 

According to the American Alliance of Museums (AAM), museums are currently operating at 35% of their capacity. It is evident that these visitation figures are simply unsustainable in the long-run, since individuals' appetite for seeing the originals has been eroded by reproductions and digital paintings. 

Surely, governments will continue to support these cultural institutions regardless of these low visitation numbers, for a wide range of reasons: firstly, they continue to carry an integral role to any nation’s heritage due to their documentation of our history through displays of paintings, figures, and other artifacts. Secondly, museums have the capacity to remind each and every one of our roots, as well as our collective development as a civilization. They also serve a pivotal role in research, and education, as they can enhance our knowledge on any topic, ranging from Einstein’s relativity theory to fashion in the Victorian age.

However, who will notice, or - better yet - appreciate the upkeep of museums, except these institutions themselves?  The root of the issue lies in the fact that we are fooled by the idea that we can obtain all the knowledge we need through a single Google search. It is indisputable that certain aspects of seeing a reproduction or a digital version of the original painting can be extraordinarily valuable. Yet, by no means can they fully supersede seeing these paintings in real life. We should view the real life or digital reproduction of a painting as a supplement to the original, rather than it being the real thing. 

Viewing the original work can equip us with tactical experience, and offer us the ability to comprehend the art’s gravity and compositional structure in a manner that is unattainable with a reproduction. They can offer better understanding of its unique environmental context, and enable us to view the painting in a way in which the artist would have intended us to. Furthermore, watching these works in real life enables us to grasp the power of reflection: by standing in front of a painting in a quiet museum room, we are urged to analyze it, discern it, and understand it to the best of our ability as we are alone with ourselves and our thoughts. When viewing these works digitally in our own environments, we are not only distracted by the buzz of everyday life, but we are also consistently incentivised to scroll, and move on to the next better thing. Thus, we barely have the time or the motivation to contemplate these works in a way that one would be able to in a museum.

The Digital Age and pictorial reproduction has opened up a world of possibilities for learning and understanding more about the world. However, it is salient that we don’t wholly rely on reproductions as the prime source of our knowledge. Rather, we should use all the tools available to us in unison, insinuating that the value of original paintings and reproductions can be enhanced, but only when used in agreement. 

It is key to note that it takes much more than mere governmental support to preserve the merit of museums. It requires our motivation in ensuring that cultural institutions remain an integral aspect of our societies, along with obtaining a thorough understanding of the benefits and disadvantages of the digital world.  This comprehension can, in turn, equip us with the necessary knowledge to make rational judgements on art. And lastly, it can teach us that irregardless of the reproduction’s pain striking accuracy or detail, the original still maintains a significant value way beyond its price.