Nude with Violin

I've been reading Nude with Violin, a play by Noel Coward. It put me in mind of Art, a play by Yasmina Reza. Both plays ask whether modern art might be a fraud.

Reza's play is about a guy who buys a big all-white painting, and then shows it to his 2 buddies.

They in turn question their relationship with a man willing to spend such a large amount of money on something that they find hard pressed to consider 'art.'

Coward's play is about a critically acclaimed painter who has signed his works, but who has not painted his works. Rather, he has secretly had 4 untrained people paint for him, each responsible for one of his "periods".

Reza is content to raise the question, but Coward seems to have a definite suggestion in mind. His main character argues sardonically against exposing the fraud. In his final monologue he warns that a skeptical domino effect might ensue:

Modern sculpture, music, drama and poetry will all shrivel in the holocaust. Think what will happen to those tens of thousands of industrious people who today are making a comfortable livelihood by writing without grammar, composing without harmony and painting without form. These poor miserable wretches will be either flung into abject poverty or forced really to learn their jobs.

This isn't Coward the dandy,
writing of escapades randy.

This is Coward the curmudgeon,
swinging an angry bludgeon.