It is commonly assumed that even if some forgeries have aesthetic merit, no forgery has as much as an original by the imitated artist would. Yet even the most prominent art specialists can be duped by a talented artist turned forger into mistaking an almost perfect forgery for an original. For instance, artist Han van Meegeren’s The Disciples at Emmaus (1937)—painted under the forged signature of the acclaimed Dutch master Jan Vermeer (1632–1675)—attracted lavish praise from experts as one of Vermeer’s finest works. The painting hung in a Rotterdam museum until 1945, when, to the great embarrassment of the critics, van Meegeren revealed its origin. Astonishingly, there was at least one highly reputed critic who persisted in believing it to be a Vermeer even after van Meegeren’s confession.

Given the experts’ initial enthusiasm, some philosophers argue that van Meegeren’s painting must have possessed aesthetic characteristics that, in a Vermeer original, would have justified the critics’ plaudits. Van Meegeren’s Emmaus thus raises difficult questions regarding the status of superbly executed forgeries. Is a forgery inherently inferior as art? How are we justified, if indeed we are, in revising downwards our critical assessment of a work unmasked as a forgery? Philosopher of art Alfred Lessing proposes convincing answers to these questions.

A forged work is indeed inferior as art, Lessing argues, but not because of a shortfall in aesthetic qualities strictly defined, that is to say, in the qualities perceptible on the picture’s surface. For example, in its composition, its technique, and its brilliant use of color, van Meegeren’s work is flawless, even beautiful. Lessing argues instead that the deficiency lies in what might be called the painting’s intangible qualities. All art, explains Lessing, involves technique, but not all art involves origination of a new vision, and originality of vision is one of the fundamental qualities by which artistic, as opposed to purely aesthetic, accomplishment is measured. Thus Vermeer is acclaimed for having inaugurated, in the seventeenth century, a new way of seeing, and for pioneering techniques for embodying this new way of seeing through distinctive treatment of light, color, and form.

Even if we grant that van Meegeren, with his undoubted mastery of Vermeer’s innovative techniques, produced an aesthetically superior painting, he did so about three centuries after Vermeer developed the techniques in question. Whereas Vermeer’s origination of these techniques in the seventeenth century represents a truly impressive and historic achievement, van Meegeren’s production of The Disciples at Emmaus in the twentieth century presents nothing new or creative to the history of art. Van Meegeren’s forgery, therefore, for all its aesthetic merits, lacks the historical significance that makes Vermeer’s work artistically great.

1. Which one of the following most accurately expresses the main point of the passage?

It is commonly assumed that even if some forgeries have aesthetic merit, no forgery has as much as an original by the imitated artist would. Yet even the most prominent art specialists can be duped by a talented artist turned forger into mistaking an almost perfect forgery for an original. For instance, artist Han van Meegeren’s The Disciples at Emmaus (1937)—painted under the forged signature of the acclaimed Dutch master Jan Vermeer (1632–1675)—attracted lavish praise from experts as one of Vermeer’s finest works. The painting hung in a Rotterdam museum until 1945, when, to the great embarrassment of the critics, van Meegeren revealed its origin. Astonishingly, there was at least one highly reputed critic who persisted in believing it to be a Vermeer even after van Meegeren’s confession.

Given the experts’ initial enthusiasm, some philosophers argue that van Meegeren’s painting must have possessed aesthetic characteristics that, in a Vermeer original, would have justified the critics’ plaudits. Van Meegeren’s Emmaus thus raises difficult questions regarding the status of superbly executed forgeries. Is a forgery inherently inferior as art? How are we justified, if indeed we are, in revising downwards our critical assessment of a work unmasked as a forgery? Philosopher of art Alfred Lessing proposes convincing answers to these questions.

A forged work is indeed inferior as art, Lessing argues, but not because of a shortfall in aesthetic qualities strictly defined, that is to say, in the qualities perceptible on the picture’s surface. For example, in its composition, its technique, and its brilliant use of color, van Meegeren’s work is flawless, even beautiful. Lessing argues instead that the deficiency lies in what might be called the painting’s intangible qualities. All art, explains Lessing, involves technique, but not all art involves origination of a new vision, and originality of vision is one of the fundamental qualities by which artistic, as opposed to purely aesthetic, accomplishment is measured. Thus Vermeer is acclaimed for having inaugurated, in the seventeenth century, a new way of seeing, and for pioneering techniques for embodying this new way of seeing through distinctive treatment of light, color, and form.

Even if we grant that van Meegeren, with his undoubted mastery of Vermeer’s innovative techniques, produced an aesthetically superior painting, he did so about three centuries after Vermeer developed the techniques in question. Whereas Vermeer’s origination of these techniques in the seventeenth century represents a truly impressive and historic achievement, van Meegeren’s production of The Disciples at Emmaus in the twentieth century presents nothing new or creative to the history of art. Van Meegeren’s forgery, therefore, for all its aesthetic merits, lacks the historical significance that makes Vermeer’s work artistically great.

2. The passage provides the strongest support for inferring that Lessing holds which one of the following views?

It is commonly assumed that even if some forgeries have aesthetic merit, no forgery has as much as an original by the imitated artist would. Yet even the most prominent art specialists can be duped by a talented artist turned forger into mistaking an almost perfect forgery for an original. For instance, artist Han van Meegeren’s The Disciples at Emmaus (1937)—painted under the forged signature of the acclaimed Dutch master Jan Vermeer (1632–1675)—attracted lavish praise from experts as one of Vermeer’s finest works. The painting hung in a Rotterdam museum until 1945, when, to the great embarrassment of the critics, van Meegeren revealed its origin. Astonishingly, there was at least one highly reputed critic who persisted in believing it to be a Vermeer even after van Meegeren’s confession.

Given the experts’ initial enthusiasm, some philosophers argue that van Meegeren’s painting must have possessed aesthetic characteristics that, in a Vermeer original, would have justified the critics’ plaudits. Van Meegeren’s Emmaus thus raises difficult questions regarding the status of superbly executed forgeries. Is a forgery inherently inferior as art? How are we justified, if indeed we are, in revising downwards our critical assessment of a work unmasked as a forgery? Philosopher of art Alfred Lessing proposes convincing answers to these questions.

A forged work is indeed inferior as art, Lessing argues, but not because of a shortfall in aesthetic qualities strictly defined, that is to say, in the qualities perceptible on the picture’s surface. For example, in its composition, its technique, and its brilliant use of color, van Meegeren’s work is flawless, even beautiful. Lessing argues instead that the deficiency lies in what might be called the painting’s intangible qualities. All art, explains Lessing, involves technique, but not all art involves origination of a new vision, and originality of vision is one of the fundamental qualities by which artistic, as opposed to purely aesthetic, accomplishment is measured. Thus Vermeer is acclaimed for having inaugurated, in the seventeenth century, a new way of seeing, and for pioneering techniques for embodying this new way of seeing through distinctive treatment of light, color, and form.

Even if we grant that van Meegeren, with his undoubted mastery of Vermeer’s innovative techniques, produced an aesthetically superior painting, he did so about three centuries after Vermeer developed the techniques in question. Whereas Vermeer’s origination of these techniques in the seventeenth century represents a truly impressive and historic achievement, van Meegeren’s production of The Disciples at Emmaus in the twentieth century presents nothing new or creative to the history of art. Van Meegeren’s forgery, therefore, for all its aesthetic merits, lacks the historical significance that makes Vermeer’s work artistically great.

3. In the first paragraph, the author refers to a highly reputed critic’s persistence in believing van Meegeren’s forgery to be a genuine Vermeer primarily in order to

It is commonly assumed that even if some forgeries have aesthetic merit, no forgery has as much as an original by the imitated artist would. Yet even the most prominent art specialists can be duped by a talented artist turned forger into mistaking an almost perfect forgery for an original. For instance, artist Han van Meegeren’s The Disciples at Emmaus (1937)—painted under the forged signature of the acclaimed Dutch master Jan Vermeer (1632–1675)—attracted lavish praise from experts as one of Vermeer’s finest works. The painting hung in a Rotterdam museum until 1945, when, to the great (13) embarrassment of the critics, van Meegeren revealed its origin. Astonishingly, there was at least one highly reputed critic who persisted in believing it to be a Vermeer even after van Meegeren’s confession.

Given the experts’ initial enthusiasm, some philosophers argue that van Meegeren’s painting must have possessed aesthetic characteristics that, in a Vermeer original, would have justified the critics’ plaudits. Van Meegeren’s Emmaus thus raises difficult questions regarding the status of superbly executed forgeries. Is a forgery inherently inferior as art? How are we justified, if indeed we are, in revising downwards our critical assessment of a work unmasked as a forgery? Philosopher of art Alfred Lessing proposes convincing answers to these questions.

A forged work is indeed inferior as art, Lessing argues, but not because of a shortfall in aesthetic qualities strictly defined, that is to say, in the qualities perceptible on the picture’s surface. For example, in its composition, its technique, and its brilliant use of color, van Meegeren’s work is flawless, even beautiful. Lessing argues instead that the deficiency lies in what might be called the painting’s intangible qualities. All art, explains Lessing, involves technique, but not all art involves origination of a new vision, and originality of vision is one of the fundamental qualities by which artistic, as opposed to purely aesthetic, accomplishment is measured. Thus Vermeer is acclaimed for having inaugurated, in the seventeenth century, a new way of seeing, and for pioneering techniques for embodying this new way of seeing through distinctive treatment of light, color, and form.

Even if we grant that van Meegeren, with his undoubted mastery of Vermeer’s innovative techniques, produced an aesthetically superior painting, he did so about three centuries after Vermeer developed the techniques in question. Whereas Vermeer’s origination of these techniques in the seventeenth century represents a truly impressive and historic achievement, van Meegeren’s production of The Disciples at Emmaus in the twentieth century presents nothing new or creative to the history of art. Van Meegeren’s forgery, therefore, for all its aesthetic merits, lacks the historical significance that makes Vermeer’s work artistically great.

4. The reaction described in which one of the following scenarios is most analogous to the reaction of the art critics mentioned in line 13?

It is commonly assumed that even if some forgeries have aesthetic merit, no forgery has as much as an original by the imitated artist would. Yet even the most prominent art specialists can be duped by a talented artist turned forger into mistaking an almost perfect forgery for an original. For instance, artist Han van Meegeren’s The Disciples at Emmaus (1937)—painted under the forged signature of the acclaimed Dutch master Jan Vermeer (1632–1675)—attracted lavish praise from experts as one of Vermeer’s finest works. The painting hung in a Rotterdam museum until 1945, when, to the great embarrassment of the critics, van Meegeren revealed its origin. Astonishingly, there was at least one highly reputed critic who persisted in believing it to be a Vermeer even after van Meegeren’s confession.

Given the experts’ initial enthusiasm, some philosophers argue that van Meegeren’s painting must have possessed aesthetic characteristics that, in a Vermeer original, would have justified the critics’ plaudits. Van Meegeren’s Emmaus thus raises difficult questions regarding the status of superbly executed forgeries. Is a forgery inherently inferior as art? How are we justified, if indeed we are, in revising downwards our critical assessment of a work unmasked as a forgery? Philosopher of art Alfred Lessing proposes convincing answers to these questions.

A forged work is indeed inferior as art, Lessing argues, but not because of a shortfall in aesthetic qualities strictly defined, that is to say, in the qualities perceptible on the picture’s surface. For example, in its composition, its technique, and its brilliant use of color, van Meegeren’s work is flawless, even beautiful. Lessing argues instead that the deficiency lies in what might be called the painting’s intangible qualities. All art, explains Lessing, involves technique, but not all art involves origination of a new vision, and originality of vision is one of the fundamental qualities by which artistic, as opposed to purely aesthetic, accomplishment is measured. Thus Vermeer is acclaimed for having inaugurated, in the seventeenth century, a new way of seeing, and for pioneering techniques for embodying this new way of seeing through distinctive treatment of light, color, and form.

Even if we grant that van Meegeren, with his undoubted mastery of Vermeer’s innovative techniques, produced an aesthetically superior painting, he did so about three centuries after Vermeer developed the techniques in question. Whereas Vermeer’s origination of these techniques in the seventeenth century represents a truly impressive and historic achievement, van Meegeren’s production of The Disciples at Emmaus in the twentieth century presents nothing new or creative to the history of art. Van Meegeren’s forgery, therefore, for all its aesthetic merits, lacks the historical significance that makes Vermeer’s work artistically great.

5. The passage provides the strongest support for inferring that Lessing holds which one of the following views?

It is commonly assumed that even if some forgeries have aesthetic merit, no forgery has as much as an original by the imitated artist would. Yet even the most prominent art specialists can be duped by a talented artist turned forger into mistaking an almost perfect forgery for an original. For instance, artist Han van Meegeren’s The Disciples at Emmaus (1937)—painted under the forged signature of the acclaimed Dutch master Jan Vermeer (1632–1675)—attracted lavish praise from experts as one of Vermeer’s finest works. The painting hung in a Rotterdam museum until 1945, when, to the great embarrassment of the critics, van Meegeren revealed its origin. Astonishingly, there was at least one highly reputed critic who persisted in believing it to be a Vermeer even after van Meegeren’s confession.

Given the experts’ initial enthusiasm, some philosophers argue that van Meegeren’s painting must have possessed aesthetic characteristics that, in a Vermeer original, would have justified the critics’ plaudits. Van Meegeren’s Emmaus thus raises difficult questions regarding the status of superbly executed forgeries. Is a forgery inherently inferior as art? How are we justified, if indeed we are, in revising downwards our critical assessment of a work unmasked as a forgery? Philosopher of art Alfred Lessing proposes convincing answers to these questions.

A forged work is indeed inferior as art, Lessing argues, but not because of a shortfall in aesthetic qualities strictly defined, that is to say, in the qualities perceptible on the picture’s surface. For example, in its composition, its technique, and its brilliant use of color, van Meegeren’s work is flawless, even beautiful. Lessing argues instead that the deficiency lies in what might be called the painting’s intangible qualities. All art, explains Lessing, involves technique, but not all art involves origination of a new vision, and originality of vision is one of the fundamental qualities by which artistic, as opposed to purely aesthetic, accomplishment is measured. Thus Vermeer is acclaimed for having inaugurated, in the seventeenth century, a new way of seeing, and for pioneering techniques for embodying this new way of seeing through distinctive treatment of light, color, and form.

Even if we grant that van Meegeren, with his undoubted mastery of Vermeer’s innovative techniques, produced an aesthetically superior painting, he did so about three centuries after Vermeer developed the techniques in question. Whereas Vermeer’s origination of these techniques in the seventeenth century represents a truly impressive and historic achievement, van Meegeren’s production of The Disciples at Emmaus in the twentieth century presents nothing new or creative to the history of art. Van Meegeren’s forgery, therefore, for all its aesthetic merits, lacks the historical significance that makes Vermeer’s work artistically great.

6. The passage most strongly supports which one of the following statements?

It is commonly assumed that even if some forgeries have aesthetic merit, no forgery has as much as an original by the imitated artist would. Yet even the most prominent art specialists can be duped by a talented artist turned forger into mistaking an almost perfect forgery for an original. For instance, artist Han van Meegeren’s The Disciples at Emmaus (1937)—painted under the forged signature of the acclaimed Dutch master Jan Vermeer (1632–1675)—attracted lavish praise from experts as one of Vermeer’s finest works. The painting hung in a Rotterdam museum until 1945, when, to the great embarrassment of the critics, van Meegeren revealed its origin. Astonishingly, there was at least one highly reputed critic who persisted in believing it to be a Vermeer even after van Meegeren’s confession.

Given the experts’ initial enthusiasm, some philosophers argue that van Meegeren’s painting must have possessed aesthetic characteristics that, in a Vermeer original, would have justified the critics’ plaudits. Van Meegeren’s Emmaus thus raises difficult questions regarding the status of superbly executed forgeries. Is a forgery inherently inferior as art? How are we justified, if indeed we are, in revising downwards our critical assessment of a work unmasked as a forgery? Philosopher of art Alfred Lessing proposes convincing answers to these questions.

A forged work is indeed inferior as art, Lessing argues, but not because of a shortfall in aesthetic qualities strictly defined, that is to say, in the qualities perceptible on the picture’s surface. For example, in its composition, its technique, and its brilliant use of color, van Meegeren’s work is flawless, even beautiful. Lessing argues instead that the deficiency lies in what might be called the painting’s intangible qualities. All art, explains Lessing, involves technique, but not all art involves origination of a new vision, and originality of vision is one of the fundamental qualities by which artistic, as opposed to purely aesthetic, accomplishment is measured. Thus Vermeer is acclaimed for having inaugurated, in the seventeenth century, a new way of seeing, and for pioneering techniques for embodying this new way of seeing through distinctive treatment of light, color, and form.

Even if we grant that van Meegeren, with his undoubted mastery of Vermeer’s innovative techniques, produced an aesthetically superior painting, he did so about three centuries after Vermeer developed the techniques in question. Whereas Vermeer’s origination of these techniques in the seventeenth century represents a truly impressive and historic achievement, van Meegeren’s production of The Disciples at Emmaus in the twentieth century presents nothing new or creative to the history of art. Van Meegeren’s forgery, therefore, for all its aesthetic merits, lacks the historical significance that makes Vermeer’s work artistically great.

7. Which one of the following, if true, would most strengthen Lessing’s contention that a painting can display aesthetic excellence without possessing an equally high degree of artistic value?