TOM KEATING

TOM KEATING had forgery down to a fine art – and churned out 2,500 copies of works by the great masters.

For two decades he recreated the paintings of more than 100 top artists.

His output was an incredible feat – worthy of admiration in the eyes of anyone but the art world and, of course, the law.

Even more amazing was the fact that no one spotted his blatant forgeries.

And unlike many other hoaxers, Keating did not seek huge financial reward. He simply wanted to prick the pomposity of the elite who run galleries and art shops.

He was born into poverty in South London in 1917 and failed to gain an art school diploma because – his work “lacked original composition”.

He continued to paint but became enraged at the vast mark-ups dealers put on art. He said it was robbing him of the living he needed to support his wife and two children.

Ridicule

Keating stormed: “Those dealers are just East End blokes in West End suits. They don’t give a damn about the paintings. All they’re after is the profit.”

So he set out to ridicule them and in 1950 turned out his first fakes – “Sexton Blakes” as he called them in Cockney rhyming slang.

For almost 25 years Keating fed fakes into the art world, including Rembrandts, Goyas, Constables, Turners, Gainsboroughs and Renoirs. An X-ray would have revealed the truth because he would write “Fake” on the canvas before painting over it.

When his skilful scam was eventually uncovered, he appeared at the Old Bailey in 1977, charged with criminal deception.

White-bearded Keating showed a wicked sense of humour as he took the witness box to rubbish some of his paintings that had fooled the experts.

Of one that sold for £9,400, he proclaimed: “I am ashamed of this work.”

Of another that fetched £2,550, he admitted: “That must have taken me about half an hour. It’s just a doodle.”

He escaped prison because of his ailing health. Keating died in 1983.

Shortly before his death his talent was finally recognised – when 150 of his works were sold at a London auction for £100,000.

By the following year his prices had doubled and 250 paintings fetched more than a quarter of a million.

A self-portrait, the only “genuine” painting in the sale, went for £7,500.

Keating had at last proved that imitation really is the sincerest form of flattery.