Is There an Arab Market for Fine Art?

By Charbel Dagher

In 1996, the Barghout Market, named after the French Marche Au Puce (the trading center of artistic collections and antiques), organized its second public art auction in Beirut. Unlike the first auction, it was not confined to fine arts but also included rugs and antique furniture. These auctions followed an earlier one organized by a Lebanese woman who had learned about art trading in Paris.   Though it had some weaknesses, her auction was successful and well attended.

From these public auctions we try to find the truth about arts trade, the bidding process, and the commercial value of the artistic item after being sold (most likely by the first owner). Does the item’s exchange value increase when put up for sale, and if so, what criteria determines that increase?   Do the prices follow the rate of inflation or are they determined by that artist’s popularity? Do the artists maintain the same value they commanded in Tunisia, for example, when they exhibit in Abu Dhabi?

Despite the artists’ continuous complaints, many crucial issues of modern Arab arts receive little attention from the officials in charge of the fine arts movement, gallery owners, and critics. These issues involve the relationship of art to society and the relationship between artists and the groups in position to purchase and collect art works.   Another question is whether works of art carry values that limit their utilitarian function.   We must ask ourselves, do we then recognize an Arab “market” for fine arts?

We would have to answer in the affirmative, especially when we know the total numbers of the paintings sold at the public auctions, although, with few exceptions, the prices paid were not high. The bidding on paintings was largely determined by the artists’ names than by the quality of their exhibited works. The paintings sold were by both famous and more obscure Lebanese artists (some by Orientalists), indicating the existence of a local appraisal standard, both artistic and financial, that determines the importance of the artists, classifying them into groups and levels based on a variety of prices.

When collectors auctioned art work at Barghout Market, the competition for valuable artistic possessions, which had continued even through the civil war’s darkest days, became a public phenomenon.   The “competition” aspect of this pursuit is derived from the volatility of the prices: while the initial price, from the gallery or the artist, is determined solely by the buyer and the seller, the auction price is also subject to unfathomable calculations of the artistic community.  

Artwork shown in public auctions often does not disclose owners’ names, undoubtedly this anonymity was requested by the artist.   This secretive type of selling suggests that the community and its calculations are essential participants in this process. But can such a process be reproduced in any Arab city, and still be a financial success?

It is difficult to be optimistic about this issue if we compare the condition of fine art sales in the Arab world with Western art fairs and auction houses such as Fiac and Drouot in Paris, Basle in Switzerland, and Christy and Sotheby in London, as well as other showrooms and galleries. The conditions are depressing indeed, and nothing illustrates this more than the vast difference between the price of a painting by a young Lebanese artist, which hardly sold for $100 in the Barghout Market, and the prices of some Western artists, which sell for millions of dollars. The situation appears even bleaker when the price of a painting by an Arab artist loses half its value when moved from one Arab country to another.

Moreover, it is not possible to display works of art for public sale, especially at auctions, in many Arab countries, even if the market would sustain exhibition and bidding. Collectors fear exhibiting their artistic possessions before the eyes of Arab governments who have enforced a system of “nationalization,” launching a reign of domination, violation and confiscation of individual wealth, including artistic acquisitions.  

However, the real obstacle lies in Arab investors’ perception of artistic works as unimportant, with neither the economic “value” of gold or stock market shares, nor the social esteem of items like jewelry, furniture, or fancy cars. This can be attributed to limited arts education, but also to limited arts trade and the perceived economic uncertainty of the art market. This undervaluing of creativity manifests itself in other cultural areas such as book publishing, where creative productions are not granted a distinguished status and are not yet seen as being as worthwhile as other forms of material wealth.

Many obstacles hinder the development of a sound trade in artistic commodities, works as well as increasing investment in this market. These obstacles stem in part from the political system in the Arab world, its patterns of domination, and the economic restrictions it imposes. However, at the heart of the problem are the priorities of the wealthy, who prefer to purchase the latest models of automobiles.

Collecting art has not yet reached a social status of worthiness and distinction. Arab countries have not matured into the level of “loving the arts,” as it is cynically called by the French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu in a study co-authored with other scholars on the phenomenon of purchasing and collecting art work in France. Reaching this “love” remains impossible without fine art becoming an organized economic activity – a force talked about, analyzed, and publicized. It cannot remain obscure and remote from economic exchanges. Only then do the arts rise to become natural need, receiving love and sincere appreciation.

Arab markets for fine art are difficult to form, and are thus postponed. Occasional increased buying in one Arab country, as when an art purchase by a head of state prompts several wealthy individuals to follow suit, are sudden boons and do not reflect significantly broad social movements. The turnout by some wealthy Gulf individuals to purchase artwork hardly suggests an Arab market for fine art, although some intellectuals see otherwise. Such a market is not viable until art sales, collections, and exchanges stem from a broader movement in society.   A widespread trade in counterfeits, some sold openly and publicly by galleries, confirms the weak state of the Arab market. The forged artwork in circulation includes paintings of some Orientalists and also Islamic miniatures.

Despite the lack of a regular and organized market, it remains surprising that Arab artwork is so seldom sold or auctioned.   Many Arab artists sell their works for decent prices, including Chafic Aboud, Saliba al-Duweihi, Hreir, Dhia al-Azawi, Shaker Hassan al-Said, Farid Balkahiyya, and Adam Hnayin. Their work maintains the same value in Beirut and other Arab cities like Jidda and Amman, although the prices are lower in Europe and the West.   Even though exhibits and auctions are not held regularly in Arab cities, agents and other intermediaries often trade by phone and fax, a fact that confirms the existence of well-known Arab buyers and art collectors.

Thus, a market exists even though, as in Beirut, we cannot prove its existence with public auctions and regular exhibitions. Similarly, the Iraqi market is strong in Iraq and abroad, regardless of the sanctions and the small number of domestic exhibitions. In Amman, some people rushed into counterfeiting works and exhibiting them for enthusiastic and hasty buyers. The Algerian market is similar, although comparatively subdued.

Despite a long history of exhibiting and trading artwork, Lebanon’s only museum of modern art is the Sursok Museum, which suggests that the arts are not high on that country’s priority list. However, since Prince Fakhr Eddine visited Toskana and acquired sculptures for his palace in Beirut, many buyers and collectors have followed in his footsteps, acquiring collections which could constitute the single largest national collection of local paintings and drawings.   These works were part of an exhibit of Lebanese paintings of the past two centuries, an important showcase that moved between London and Paris and was published in a book.   The exhibit, a valuable collection with private owners, clearly shows real wealth, and in total can transcend the holdings of a single national museum.

A work’s introduction on exhibit and for sale does not alone determine either its artistic merit or its monetary worth. The works which accompany it on display do not dictate its worth either, although competition is a factor in the art trade.   Just as art reflects and interprets the world around it, so its value reflects the works with it on exhibit. Moreover, its value is related to the society in which it is produced. Thus, art has no external function; it functions as part of society and soon becomes a sphere of investment and competition.   Probing the absence of a regular, organized and secure Arab fine arts market reveals the deteriorating condition of art and its diminishing social importance. Local capitals contribute to this sorry state; they have become synonymous with both acquiring and confiscating art, not with a mind toward investment or long-term profits, but one instead fixed on spoils and the fulfillment of immediate needs.

Elie Chalala has adapted this article from both an article the author published in Al Hayat and from phone discussions conducted in Spring 1999. The author has granted Al Jadid the exclusive right to translate, edit, and publish the article.

Translated from the Arabic by Nuha Sinno

This article appeared in Al Jadid, Vol. 5, no. 27 (Spring 1999)

Translation Copyright © 1999 by Al Jadid