John Berger · Ways of Seeing, p. 21

This new status of the original work is the perfectly rational consequence of the new means of reproduction. But it is at this point that a process of mystification again enters. The meaning of the original work no longer lies in what it uniquely says but in what it uniquely is. How is its unique existence evaluated and defined in our present culture? It is defined as an object whose value depends upon its rarity. This value is affirmed and gauged by the price it fetches on the market. But because it is nevertheless ‘a work of art’ — and art is thought to be greater than commerce — its market price is said to be a reflection of its spiritual value. Yet the spiritual value of an object, as distinct from a message or an example, can only be explained in terms of magic or religion. And since in modern society neither of these is a living force, the art object, the ‘work of art’, is enveloped in an atmosphere of entirely bogus religiosity. Works of art are discussed and presented as though they were holy relics: relics which are first and foremost evidence of their own survival. The past in which they originated is studied in order to prove their survival genuine. They are declared art when their line of descent can be certified.

The same mystification has overtaken the great Italian string instruments and the French school of bow-making. Rarity, auction price, and a vaguely spiritual vocabulary of provenance and authenticity have conspired to remove these objects from the working world: they are now held by banks and foundations, displayed or loaned as cultural capital. But the instrument case exposes a contradiction Berger’s paintings cannot. A painting removed to a vault is diminished socially, not physically. An instrument unplayed withers — the wood goes quiet, the responsiveness accumulated through centuries of use slowly drains away. The relic logic here does not merely distort the object’s meaning; it destroys the condition of its value. To venerate a Stradivari into a foundation’s portfolio is to worship the residue of use while foreclosing its continuation. These objects were made to be played. In the wrong hands — or no hands — they cease, by degrees, to be what they are.