Real cases, and our own honest read on each. Some of them argue against this idea.
A chip wouldn't have stopped it
Knoedler, New York
More than 60 fakes by one painter in Queens passed through two respected galleries, which paid about $33 million and resold them for over $80 million. The story was an invented collector. Knoedler closed in 2011.
A chip on a fake just records the fake. The hope is further out: if living artists register work as it's made, "no record" starts to raise questions.
US Attorney's Office, Southern District of New York
The warning
Wolfgang Beltracchi
He invented whole collections, stuck fake gallery labels on the backs of canvases and staged period photographs. Materials science, not paperwork, exposed him: titanium white in a painting dated 1914.
That fake label was the object-bound record of its day, and buyers trusted it. So who issues a record matters more than the chip it sits on.
Wikipedia: Wolfgang Beltracchi
Where append-only helps
John Drewe and John Myatt
Drewe slipped photographs of forgeries into gallery records at the Tate Archive and altered library catalogues, giving about 200 fakes a past they never had.
A log that's timestamped as it's written makes back-dating visible. The catch is that it can't protect anything from before the log began.
The Art Newspaper, 1999
The closest match
Inigo Philbrick
The art was real, and the ownership was the lie. He sold more than 100% of some works and pledged them as collateral, an $86 million fraud that brought a seven-year sentence in 2022.
A shared record of shares and pledges would expose this, but only if lenders and co-owners actually had to check it.
Hyperallergic