logo
#

Latest news with #NorvalMorrisseau

‘Important to restore Morrisseau's legacy': Robots rooting out art fraud
‘Important to restore Morrisseau's legacy': Robots rooting out art fraud

CTV News

time7 days ago

  • Business
  • CTV News

‘Important to restore Morrisseau's legacy': Robots rooting out art fraud

Genevieve Beauchemin has the story of how AI and technology is being used to restore the legacy of Indigenous artist Norval Morrisseau. Robots at a startup in Montreal are helping restore the legacy of world-renowned Indigenous artist Norval Morrisseau. A sprawling investigation into forgeries of Morrisseau's paintings that have flooded the market for decades has uncovered what investigators have called the biggest case of art fraud in Canada, and some say, possibly in the history of the world. The estate of the late artist has turned to AI and robots to help authenticate his paintings, in hopes of providing concrete empirical evidence for Canadian courts. The process involves robotic arms that take paintbrushes, dip them in bright paint colours and execute complex strokes on a canvass to produce copies of paintings. This may evoke fears of robots taking over the art world, but those behind the technology say the paintings are not machine-created fakes to be passed off as a real Morrisseau, but replicas to train AI models to root out fraud. 'The better our work gets, the better the model has to get to detect the copies,' said Acrylic Robotics CEO Chloe Ryan. 'This also allows us to refine our robotic techniques.' Ryan is a former painter now armed with a degree in mechanical engineering, who set out on a mission to shake up the art world when she co-founded Acrylic Robotics. 'I have been painting and selling my work since I was a teenager, and I became very frustrated with how long it would take me to make a painting, and then I could sell that work of art once to one person,' they said. 'I was making two dollars an hour, and I thought, 'how can artists make a living selling their art?'' Ryan says that led to a longer reflection on what she calls the 'scarcity-driven art market.' 'The value of art is driven by how few people have access to it,' she said. 'In the music or film industry, it is driven by how many people your art resonates with.' Ryan set out to pioneer a model that would allow for the creation of copies of paintings that capture the same details as the original. She knows that is a scary proposition to some who are concerned robots could take over the work of human creativity, but she says this is based on using technology as a tool. The model she is pitching is of artists consenting to copies of their paintings to be made, which would be clearly identified as copies, so that the human behind the art will be credited and compensated while also making their art more accessible. 'I am pioneering a new method of creation in fine art, one that is driven by how many people resonate with your work, and not one that is driven by how scarce it is,' said Ryan. 'He made Canada look at itself' But what caught the attention of the estate of the late Morrisseau is the technology's potential to help in its fight against forgeries. Morrisseau, who died in 2007 at the age of 75, was a world-renowned painter known as the grandfather of contemporary Indigenous art in Canada. 'Morrisseau was pivotal in sharing Indigenous culture, opening up markets and new pathways for other Indigenous artists,' said Cory Dingle, the executive director of Morrisseau's estate. 'But he also made Canada look at itself. 'All through the residential school trauma, the land displacement and all the racism against him, his art always spoke of love and unity,' adds Dingle. '(O)f interconnectivity and interdependency, and so it is important to restore his legacy.' Morrisseau's pieces sell in the millions, but thousands of fraudulent works of art have flooded the market since the late 1990's, making it difficult to authenticate and sell his paintings. The estate says reporting fakes posed a challenge in the face of Canadian laws. Acrylic Robotics works closely with the estate to create increasingly precise copies of Morrisseau paintings, which are used to train a computer program called Norval AI that was developed three years ago by professors to detect fakes. That program produces heat maps showing spots where a copy differs from the original. Acryclic Robotics has been going back and forth with the estate for about a year, improving copy after copy. For Morrisseau's estate, this is part of a crucial mission. 'Restoring his legacy means that these institutions will study him, that the museum will display him, and we will be able to share this with the world,' said Dingle, sitting in front of a rarely seen Morrisseau. But in the process, there will be more Morrisseau copies floating around. Robotic Acrylics says it is working with the estate to ensure that there are markings in the pieces to ensure that they could never be sold as originals. Producing precise brush strokes involves much more than a few clicks of a mouse. 'There is a robotic challenge of how do I have a robot move in the same way as a human wrist, with the same delicate strokes,' said Ryan. Achieving that may spark concerns about machines replacing humans, but the hope here is that this is a high-tech step in the age-old fight against art fraud.

How AI, robotics and late artist Morrisseau are helping fight art fraud
How AI, robotics and late artist Morrisseau are helping fight art fraud

CBC

time20-07-2025

  • Entertainment
  • CBC

How AI, robotics and late artist Morrisseau are helping fight art fraud

Social Sharing Famed Indigenous artist Norval Morrisseau was browsing a Vancouver gallery with his longtime friend Cory Dingle around 1993 when a painting stopped them in their tracks. The pair asked who created it. The answer? "Norval Morrisseau." The trouble? The artist had never seen the work, let alone painted it. "We had a little chuckle and we left," Dingle recalled. "Then, I said, 'What do you want to do about this?' He said, 'You know, you can't police the world.'" Morrisseau, who died in 2007, was a self-taught, trailblazing artist known for his pictographic style and membership in the Indian Group of Seven. He was the first Indigenous artist to have his work shown in a contemporary gallery in Canada and now his paintings sell for millions. But the incident Dingle remembers proved to be an omen. At least 6,000 fake paintings have since been uncovered, costing Morrisseau's estate $100 million in losses. The phenomenon amounts to what police have called the biggest art fraud in world history. Canadian artist's estates thinking of leaving Canada, says Morisseau estate 2 years ago Finding fakes is time consuming work. It requires co-operation from galleries and private collectors, a trained, critical eye cast on anything purporting to be made by the late artist and the patience to keep pursuing justice through the court system. But now a new tool has emerged to help the battle: artificial intelligence. Bogged down by the enormity of the task at hand, Morrisseau's estate, which is run by Dingle, partnered with two art-loving professors to build software nicknamed "Norval AI" about three years ago. It can analyze art pieces and determine the probability that they're a genuine Morrisseau. "Because the fakes were so terrible ... we got to a point with our AI that it was so good at picking them out," Dingle said. "There was no problem." Yet the estate knew fakes were still out there. They were just getting harder to detect because court hearings were revealing the tell-tale signs of a fake Morrisseau — thinner paint lines, for example — which allowed fraudsters to make their works even more convincing. Enter Chloë Ryan. The then-engineering student loved making large-scale abstract paintings. Even though such works could sell for a decent amount, they often take weeks or months to create, narrowing the odds that she could make artistry a viable career. She could make prints of her pieces, but they just weren't the same because they lacked the texture of a real painting. The conundrum became a source of inspiration for Ryan, leading her to start tinkering with robots and paint on her Montreal balcony. She eventually developed Acrylic Robotics, a company that uses technology to paint pieces at the behest of an artist. The process starts with an artist painting with a stylus on a drawing table, which acts like a massive tablet. Amazon Web Services software analyzes and logs every movement, detecting millions of details in the piece, including the strokes, brush pressure, pigment and speed. "We like to think of AI as a powerful magnifying glass," said Patricia Nielsen, AWS Canada's head of digital transformation and AI. "It can detect those patterns and the anomalies that might be invisible to the human eye ... so art experts, historians, can dig in further." With that data, Acrylic's robotic arm can then paint a replica so precise, Ryan says it's indistinguishable from an original — exactly what Dingle needed to put Norval AI to the test. A mutual connection put him in touch with Ryan last August. Shortly after, they got to work. Because Morrisseau isn't alive to paint images on Ryan's tablet, Acrylic's robot (Dingle affectionately calls it Dodo) had a more complicated feat to accomplish. Dingle would send Ryan a hi-resolution image of one of Morrisseau's works. Acrylic Robotics would then have an artist learn about eccentricities of his style and paint the piece before Acrylic's robot would give it a try. Everything the robot painted was analyzed by the estate and Norval AI. The two sides have been going back and forth for about a year, picking out errors in the robot's execution and poring over new works. Early editions had several spots where both the estate and Norval AI could tell the robot had stopped a long stroke to pick up more paint — something uncharacteristic of Morrisseau. "If you look at one of our works randomly on the street, you wouldn't be able to say that's made by a robot, but we can't yet do all art under the sun because there's a lot of techniques that we haven't yet built in," Ryan said. "We can't use every tool in an artist's arsenal yet. If an artist is out here finger painting, obviously we can't do stuff like that." Concerns of harming artists Newer editions of the Morrisseaus are about 69 per cent accurate and expected to improve even more. But Dingle admits, "I have kind of been holding back on getting to 100 per cent." He's scared of developing anything too perfect before he and Acrylic Robotics have found a foolproof method for ensuring a Morrisseau recreation can't be passed off as the real thing. It's a concern Ryan shares. "The worst thing that could happen is that we release this without consultation with groups that have been harmed by art forgery and this technology is used against artists," she said. WATCH | Winnipeg Art Gallery painting part of Morrisseau fake investigation: Painting in Winnipeg Art Gallery collection part of investigation into Norval Morrisseau fakes 1 year ago A case investigators have called Canada's largest art fraud investigation has revealed one of thousands of paintings falsely attributed to renowned Anishinaabe artist Norval Morrisseau was once on display in Winnipeg's biggest art gallery. They're currently exploring markings or other features that can be embedded in pieces to denote they're not originals. Once they settle on an ideal method, they'll have an avenue to disseminate recreations of Morrisseau's work — responsibly. While some might think that's the last thing an estate plagued by forgeries would want to do, Dingle sees it as a way to bring Morrisseau's work to the people who would value it most. "There's two schools named after Norval. There are healing institutions. There are academic institutions. There are remote Indigenous communities," said Dingle, sitting in front of a rarely-shown Morrisseau.

How AI, robotics and late artist Morrisseau are helping fight art fraud
How AI, robotics and late artist Morrisseau are helping fight art fraud

Toronto Star

time20-07-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Toronto Star

How AI, robotics and late artist Morrisseau are helping fight art fraud

Acrylic Robotics founder Chloë Ryan poses for a photograph with an in-progress copy of Norval Morrisseau's 'Bear Father, Bear Son,'made by a robot trained on artificial intelligence, at Acrylic Robotics' studio and offices, in Montreal on Tuesday, July 8, 2025. Christopher Katsarov / The Canadian Press flag wire: true flag sponsored: false article_type: : sWebsitePrimaryPublication : publications/toronto_star bHasMigratedAvatar : false :

How AI, robotics and late artist Morrisseau are helping fight art fraud
How AI, robotics and late artist Morrisseau are helping fight art fraud

Yahoo

time20-07-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Yahoo

How AI, robotics and late artist Morrisseau are helping fight art fraud

Famed Indigenous artist Norval Morrisseau was browsing a Vancouver gallery with his longtime friend Cory Dingle around 1993 when a painting stopped them in their tracks. The pair asked who created it. The answer? "Norval Morrisseau." The trouble? The artist had never seen the work, let alone painted it. "We had a little chuckle and we left," Dingle recalled. "Then, I said, 'What do you want to do about this?' He said, 'You know, you can't police the world.'" Morrisseau, who died in 2007, was a self-taught, trailblazing artist known for his pictographic style and membership in the Indian Group of Seven. He was the first Indigenous artist to have his work shown in a contemporary gallery in Canada and now his paintings sell for millions. But the incident Dingle remembers proved to be an omen. At least 6,000 fake paintings have since been uncovered, costing Morrisseau's estate $100 million in losses. The phenomenon amounts to what police have called the biggest art fraud in world history. Finding fakes is time consuming work. It requires co-operation from galleries and private collectors, a trained, critical eye cast on anything purporting to be made by the late artist and the patience to keep pursuing justice through the court system. But now a new tool has emerged to help the battle: artificial intelligence. Bogged down by the enormity of the task at hand, Morrisseau's estate, which is run by Dingle, partnered with two art-loving professors to build software nicknamed "Norval AI" about three years ago. It can analyze art pieces and determine the probability that they're a genuine Morrisseau. "Because the fakes were so terrible ... we got to a point with our AI that it was so good at picking them out," Dingle said. "There was no problem." Yet the estate knew fakes were still out there. They were just getting harder to detect because court hearings were revealing the tell-tale signs of a fake Morrisseau — thinner paint lines, for example — which allowed fraudsters to make their works even more convincing. Enter Chloë Ryan. The then-engineering student loved making large-scale abstract paintings. Even though such works could sell for a decent amount, they often take weeks or months to create, narrowing the odds that she could make artistry a viable career. She could make prints of her pieces, but they just weren't the same because they lacked the texture of a real painting. The conundrum became a source of inspiration for Ryan, leading her to start tinkering with robots and paint on her Montreal balcony. She eventually developed Acrylic Robotics, a company that uses technology to paint pieces at the behest of an artist. The process starts with an artist painting with a stylus on a drawing table, which acts like a massive tablet. Amazon Web Services software analyzes and logs every movement, detecting millions of details in the piece, including the strokes, brush pressure, pigment and speed. "We like to think of AI as a powerful magnifying glass," said Patricia Nielsen, AWS Canada's head of digital transformation and AI. "It can detect those patterns and the anomalies that might be invisible to the human eye ... so art experts, historians, can dig in further." With that data, Acrylic's robotic arm can then paint a replica so precise, Ryan says it's indistinguishable from an original — exactly what Dingle needed to put Norval AI to the test. A mutual connection put him in touch with Ryan last August. Shortly after, they got to work. Because Morrisseau isn't alive to paint images on Ryan's tablet, Acrylic's robot (Dingle affectionately calls it Dodo) had a more complicated feat to accomplish. Dingle would send Ryan a hi-resolution image of one of Morrisseau's works. Acrylic Robotics would then have an artist learn about eccentricities of his style and paint the piece before Acrylic's robot would give it a try. Everything the robot painted was analyzed by the estate and Norval AI. The two sides have been going back and forth for about a year, picking out errors in the robot's execution and poring over new works. Early editions had several spots where both the estate and Norval AI could tell the robot had stopped a long stroke to pick up more paint — something uncharacteristic of Morrisseau. "If you look at one of our works randomly on the street, you wouldn't be able to say that's made by a robot, but we can't yet do all art under the sun because there's a lot of techniques that we haven't yet built in," Ryan said. "We can't use every tool in an artist's arsenal yet. If an artist is out here finger painting, obviously we can't do stuff like that." Newer editions of the Morrisseaus are about 69 per cent accurate and expected to improve even more. But Dingle admits, "I have kind of been holding back on getting to 100 per cent." He's scared of developing anything too perfect before he and Acrylic Robotics have found a foolproof method for ensuring a Morrisseau recreation can't be passed off as the real thing. It's a concern Ryan shares. "The worst thing that could happen is that we release this without consultation with groups that have been harmed by art forgery and this technology is used against artists," she said. They're currently exploring markings or other features that can be embedded in pieces to denote they're not originals. Once they settle on an ideal method, they'll have an avenue to disseminate recreations of Morrisseau's work — responsibly. While some might think that's the last thing an estate plagued by forgeries would want to do, Dingle sees it as a way to bring Morrisseau's work to the people who would value it most. "There's two schools named after Norval. There are healing institutions. There are academic institutions. There are remote Indigenous communities," said Dingle, sitting in front of a rarely-shown Morrisseau. "They could never afford to buy this painting, to hang it in their halls, to have the healing and the lessons of it, so we need to be able to produce high level reproductions that bring the life of that painting to these places." This report by The Canadian Press was first published July 20, 2025. Tara Deschamps, The Canadian Press Sign in to access your portfolio

Art dealer moved $450,000 worth of Morrisseau fakes, new court document reveals
Art dealer moved $450,000 worth of Morrisseau fakes, new court document reveals

Globe and Mail

time03-07-2025

  • Globe and Mail

Art dealer moved $450,000 worth of Morrisseau fakes, new court document reveals

An 84-year-old art dealer who pleaded guilty last week in a sprawling investigation into the distribution of counterfeit Norval Morrisseau artwork bought around 500 fakes for more than $450,000 and then distributed them across Canada, according to an agreed statement of facts released Wednesday. The document outlines his role in selling forgeries, while peeling back another layer of what investigators call the biggest case of art fraud in Canadian history, a major scheme that has tarnished the late Anishinaabe artist's legacy. The dealer, Jim White, was one of eight people arrested in March, 2023, as part of Project Totton, a years-long police investigation into two counterfeiting rings responsible for producing and selling between 4,500 and 6,000 fake Morrisseau works, according to officers. Two of the eight accused had previously pleaded guilty, and charges against at least one other have been withdrawn. Investigators had anticipated that Mr. White – along with two other defendants, David Bremner and Jeffrey Cowan – would go to trial. Last week, before the Ontario Superior Court of Justice in Newmarket, Ont., Mr. White pleaded guilty to uttering forged documents and possessing property obtained by crime for the purpose of trafficking. 'We were quite taken aback when we were notified that there was a potential plea agreement in place for Jim White,' said Thunder Bay Police Inspector Jason Rybak, who co-led Project Totton. Once called Picasso of the North, Mr. Morrisseau died in 2007 having earned international renown. His work featured vibrant colours and depictions of people and animals outlined in thick black lines, a style that came to be called the Woodland School. First Nations leaders say Mr. Morrisseau's art has been instrumental in helping to explain their history. According to the agreed statement of facts, Mr. White began selling Morrisseau works in 1999. Back then, most of the works he distributed originated from one of the co-accused, David Voss, who last year admitted in court that he had counterfeited upwards of 1,500 works falsely attributed to Mr. Morrisseau. Mr. White admits no wrongdoing related to the Voss fakes. He tried to verify their authenticity by commissioning handwriting analyses, affidavits and other documents attesting to their provenance. In 2016, he turned to a new source of Morrisseaus: Mr. Cowan. He says he met Mr. Cowan and viewed a number of Morrisseaus that raised several 'red flags.' Despite carrying 1980s dates, they appeared to be 'newer' and the English signatures didn't conform with earlier Morrisseau signatures he'd seen. What's more, Mr. Cowan sold the art from his garage in St. Thomas, Ont., and only accepted cash or e-transfers. Mr. White states that he was told Mr. Cowan acquired the art from a deceased uncle as well as from a former lover of Mr. Morrisseau's. Despite harbouring suspicions that the works were forgeries, Mr. White 'purposely turned a blind eye' to anything that might undermine their legitimacy, the document states. Between 2016 and 2021, he made 44 trips to Mr. Cowan's home to buy more than 470 forgeries. Mr. White pegged total costs at more than $450,000. To hide the art's provenance, Mr. White enlisted an appraiser, Mr. Bremner, to create certificates that declared the Cowan paintings to be authentic. The allegations against Mr. Cowan and Mr. Bremner have not been tested in court. Mr. White would then sell or consign the forgeries to auctioneers and galleries across Canada that would, in turn, sell them to the public. His fortunes began to shift in 2019 with the release of There Are No Fakes, a documentary that identifies Mr. White and others as major forces behind a shadowy counterfeiting scheme. The police investigation began shortly after its release. In 2021, police executed a search warrant on Mr. White's home and seized 59 forgeries traced to Mr. Cowan, along with 114 prints of forgeries and numerous certificates of authenticity, many affixed with a stamp from the Morrisseau Family Foundation, an organization formed by Mr. Morrisseau's sons and daughter around the time of his 2007 death. Jonathan Sommer, a lawyer who has represented several unwitting buyers of Morrisseau fakes, said the appearance of a foundation stamp needs to be further explored. 'It's a positive step to have more information about how the fraud rolled out over time,' he said. 'But the larger story still has massive gaps.' Police also seized $30,700 from a floor safe, funds Mr. White admits are the proceeds of crime. Mr. White has declined through his lawyer to comment on the guilty plea. His sentencing is scheduled for Aug. 7.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store