The Word - Vol 103

World’s Worst Original Oil Painting Exhibition & Auction 🎨👩‍🎨🖼️

So, you think you’re an artist? You think you can paint? Well, there’s one way to find out. Head to an art store buy some oil paint, a brush or two, and a canvas, and see what happens. That’s exactly what Nicola Finanese did in 1920. Little did the artist know that the finished product titled “Luna Di Sera” would become the touchstone from which all the World’s Worst Paintings would be determined.

Here’s a little background. In 1969 Dr. Norman Watt came upon an original oil painting titled, “Luna Di Sera,” in a New York antique store. His reaction to the painting was profound. “That painting is the world’s worst! I must have it.” He purchased it for $5.00 and brought it back to Vancouver with him.

Back in Vancouver, Norm couldn’t wait to show his “find” to his old friend Bill Goodacre, who agreed with Norm, it had to be the World’s Worst Oil Painting. Both of them felt that it couldn’t be the only worst one in the world, there must be hundreds, if not thousands out there. They started collecting hideous oils and after scouring 2nd hand stores, flea markets, and garage sales they amassed a marvelous collection that took seven years to complete.

Both Bill and Norm realized that they had to come up with some ground rules and standards about what could be deemed, “the worst.” The first rule was to ask the question “Is this painting really the pits?” They also decided not to pay more than $5 for any painting and ruled out anything on black velvet or with a paint-by-numbers set. It had to be an original artwork, and had to be an oil painting.

Another thing they looked for was a terrible perspective. A misuse of colour. And things like nudes with no hands or feet. I was a judge at one of the exhibitions and was teamed up with another judge who was an accomplished artist. He told me that hands and feet are very difficult to paint. While judging the competition we discovered that 90% of nudes in the collection either didn’t have hands or feet or had them hidden in some way.

Some tragic paintings featured boats that appear to be sitting on top of the water instead of floating in it, streams that flow uphill, or horses that are supposed to be running but have all four feet planted on the ground.

After five years Norm and Bill had accumulated 200 or so paintings in their basements and their wives said, “Get those bloody things out of here!” The two “collectors,” had a mutual friend, Doug Mowat, who was the Executive Director of the B.C. Paraplegic Foundation and they approached him to see if he’d be interested in allowing the Foundation’s name to be associated with their soon-to-be exhibition and auction. The paintings would be auctioned off and it would be a fundraiser for the Foundation. Doug agreed and it was an instant success.

The auction was a black-tie affair and became a Vancouver tradition, drawing the local elite and media celebrities, who served as judges. Each painting is titled before it’s auctioned, which helps “up” the price. After all, a portrait of a tilting nude has got to go for more money when it’s titled ''Not Tonight, Dear, I’ve Got a List.’’ Some of the titles were as funny, if not funnier than the painting.

Throughout the evening the paintings are on display and are part of an ongoing silent auction. Then celebrity judges pick the top 5 or 10 worst paintings and they are put aside for a live auction. In later years, hidden behind one of the worst paintings, was a painting donated by an accomplished and well-known artist. A bit of a lottery, which increased the bidding.

For a number of years, Norm and Bill sent some of the paintings to famous museums around the world, along with a letter saying the work had been donated because ''paintings like these should be shared amongst the many, rather than the fortunate few.’'

Most museums responded along the lines of the National Gallery of Canada in Ottawa, which sent a serious letter explaining that after examining the submitted painting ''we do not feel it meets the standard of the collection.’’ But much to everyone’s shock, three museums, the Prado in Madrid, the Hermitage in Leningrad, and Forest Lawn in California, actually accepted the works, although no one is sure if this was because of oversight or a sense of humour on the part of the curators.

It was such a fun and much anticipated annual event, and W.W.O.O.P.E.A. raised hundreds of thousands of dollars over the years. It was a collection of original oil paintings that tragically missed the mark on many levels. Sad really, because I’m sure each artist set out to create the next masterpiece.

I have the distinction of not only owning some of the world’s worst, but I've also been a judge at the event, and sadly one of the contributing artists.

Till next week,
Wayne