Cover of Time magazine “Con Man of the Year,” February 21, 1972. The headline could have easily applied to de Hory, who provided this portrait to Time magazine after Clifford Irving’s arrest. Irving was convicted of fraud and sentenced to federal prison for claiming to his publisher he had written an authorized biography of the reclusive billionaire Howard Hughes.

Toward the end of his career, de Hory lived the life of a “bon vivant” on the Spanish island of Ibiza; no one suspected he was leading a double life. That changed when he told his story to American author Clifford Irving. Irving’s 1969 biography Fake! The Story of Elmyr de Hory, the Greatest Art Forger of Our Time became an international bestseller. Even though much of the narrative and biographical information de Hory provided served to perpetuate the myth that he had invented, Irving accepted de Hory’s memoir with little verification.

Irving was later convicted of perpetrating literary fraud, and his and de Hory’s ironically intertwining lives of duplicity were immortalized by Orson Welles in his 1972 film, F for Fake. Irving’s book and Welles’ movie may have made de Hory a celebrity, but his status did not serve him the way he had hoped. De Hory still was unable to sell his original works; in a blow to his ego, clients only wanted his works in the styles of other artists. De Hory’s newfound fame also attracted unwanted attention from law authorities. In 1976, after years of legal wrangling trying to defend himself against accusations made by his former partner Fernand Legros, France finally secured his extradition to stand trial. Fearing he would be killed in prison, de Hory committed suicide by overdosing on sleeping pills.

Example of craquelure from one of de Hory’s earliest forgeries.

At first, de Hory created only minor works on paper rather than canvas, obtaining his materials by simply ripping blank pages from vintage books or buying supplies of old paper with French watermarks. Later, he obtained canvases by purchasing 19th century paintings at Paris flea markets. He would scrape off the paint and leave only the primer coat. He would then paint a convincing composition in the style of an artist he chose to mimic. To artificially age the works, he used two widely available commercial varnishes—one produced a quick craquelure (cracking) and the other imparted a golden, aged hue. Lastly, he applied the most convincing element—the forged artist’s signature. Although de Hory ultimately admitted to creating forgeries, he consistently denied that he ever signed them, claiming he designated that incriminating task to his partner.

Much of de Hory’s success can be attributed to his dealer and partner, Fernand Legros. An experienced con man, he knew who could be bribed and who could be fooled. He co-opted experts, especially those recognized by the French government, who could guarantee a work’s authenticity. He had the certification stamps of these experts copied so he could produce counterfeit documents. To create artificial provenance documentation, Legros used fake customs stamps and inserted photographic copies of de Hory forgeries into auction catalogues and artist monographs. Today, a “de Hory” is easier to identify using new forensic techniques to analyze pigments.

Examining What’s Underneath: Ultraviolet and Infrared Light
Fig. 2 is an ultraviolet image showing dark areas around the faces where de Hory painted over the original canvas. Image courtesy of the Midwest Art Conservation Center in Minneapolis, Minnesota. The illustration in Fig. 3 helps to show how the earlier signature appeared under the forged László signature when examined with infrared light.

De Hory liked to present himself as a dispossessed Hungarian aristocrat and would tell house guests that this childhood portrait of him and his brother Stephan had been painted by renowned artist Philip de László (Fig. 1). Several decades after de Hory’s death; however, the de László Foundation denied the work was authentic since its aesthetic appearance was inconsistent with de László’s style and it lacked credible provenance. The owner of the painting, curious about its origins, took it to the Midwest Art Conservation Center in Minneapolis for analysis.

When examined by microscope as well as in ultraviolet and infrared light, telltale “overpainting” on top of the varnish layer of the original work appeared, especially noticeable on the brothers’ faces and hands (Fig. 2). In addition, the signature was not contemporaneous with the original work; in fact, there seemed to be an earlier signature in red that had been covered over with the present signature added (Fig. 3). Most likely the portrait is one of de Hory’s earliest forgeries, and the only time he chose to alter an existing painting rather than create a new one. Using a photograph of himself and his brother Stephan as a model, de Hory apparently executed the work to substantiate a false claim of noble ancestry.

Essay: The Artifice of Elmyr de Hory
By Dr. Jeffrey Taylor, Assistant Professor of Arts Management at SUNY Purchase
This essay detailing the life, art and illicit career of Hungarian forger Elmyr de Hory corrects many misconceptions about his known historical and biographical background.

A Personal View: The Genesis of a Faker
By Mark Forgy, author, playwright, lecturer and executor of the de Hory Estate
Mr. Forgy’s seven-year association with de Hory provides an intimate, first-hand account of the life and art of prolific forger Elmyr de Hory.