Peter Friedman
Lawyer
Ruling Imagination: Law and Creativity
Joy Garnett Lectures on Painting, Mass Media, and the Art of Fair Use
What did Jackson Pollock intend when he painted Lavender Mist? Cariou v. Prince, and the importance of scripting the artist’s words.
Patrick Cariou’s lawyers have filed their brief (embedded below) in opposition to Richard Prince’s appeal of the decision holding that Prince’s appropriation’s of Cariou’s photographs constituted copyright infringement. Writing in artnet, Rachel Corbett explains, among other things, that Cariou’s legal team
is banking largely on the claim that Prince’s work failed to comment on or satirize Cariou’s photographs — a common objection against applying the fair use exception to copyright law.
While Prince’s lawyers, Boies, Schiller and Flexner, convincingly argue that “Canal Zone” is “transformative” of the original works, Cariou’s lawyers say that’s not enough. “That argument fails because, absent a justification for the appropriation, taking copyrighted work in order to create ‘something new’ has no practicable boundary and would effectively eviscerate the rights of copyright owners.”
After all, they point out, Prince plainly, arrogantly, and perhaps fatally, said in district court that he had no real interest in the meaning behind Cariou’s work, and that he used it strictly as “raw material.” It’s “taking for the sake of taking,” Cariou’s lawyers argue.
As I wrote nearly a year ago, I believe it would be absurd to conclude whether Prince’s use of Cariou’s work was transformative based on Prince’s words. Artist’s are not particularly gifted at putting into words what their works mean. Why, after all, would we need their work if their words would suffice?
As Sister Wendy Beckett explains in the Encyclopedia Britannica Online, in words that are so well accepted they are almost trite,
The passageway provided by art is very wide. No single interpretation of art is ever “right,” not even the artist’s own. He or she can tell us the intent of the work, but the actual meaning and significance of the art, what the artist achieved, is a very different matter. (It is pitiable to hear the grandiose discussions of artists’ work by the least talented of our contemporaries.) We should listen to the appreciations of others, but then we should put them aside and advance toward a work of art in the loneliness of our own truth. Each of us encounters the work alone, and how much we receive from it is wholly the effect of our will to accept this responsibility.
What was Jackson Pollock’s purpose in painting Lavender Mist? Van Gogh’s in painting The Irises? Haven’t we accepted by now the limitations focus on artistic intention would impose on our appreciation of art? Nevertheless, in the decision enjoining the publication of a “sequel” to The Catcher in the Rye, the judge was significantly influenced by the fact the author and his representatives had described the work in words that didn’t fit the legal standard they wanted to meet:
Until the present lawsuit was filed, Defendants made no indication that 60 Years[the new work] was in any way a parody or critique of Catcher [in the Rye]. Quite to the contrary, the original jacket of 60 Years states that it is “. . . a marvelous sequel t one of our most beloved classics.” . . . Additionally, when initially confronted with the similarities between the two works, rather than explaining that60 Years was a parody or critique of Catcher, Colting’s [the new work’s author] literary agent, Mr. Sane, contended that 60 Years “is a completely freestanding novel that has nothing to do with the original Catcher in the Rye.” Opinion and Order at 16, n. 3.
Colting and his agent, obviously, should have called his work a parody and critique, not a sequel or a “freestanding novel.” Plainly, they had not been sufficiently counseled by lawyers who could have put the proper words in their mouths. It’s odd to think that being sufficiently versed in the mere words that would be consistent with the legal outcome you seek should make a difference, though. No matter what an artist said, his work would be the same.
In the same way, it seems odd that Prince’s refusal to articulate an artistic intent should be a determinant of the legitimacy of his artwork. The Amicus Brief filed in support of Prince’s appeal by the Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts (also embedded below) makes precisely these points (at 31-34; hyperlinks added):
The district court found Prince’s work was not transformative based entirely on Prince’s apparent inability to verbalize the meaning of it to the court’s satisfaction, and the court’s own conclusions about Prince’s subjective intent. See SPA-17-20. But transformative meaning must be assessed first and foremost by observation of the work itself, and whether new meaning and expression may be reasonably perceived from it. See Campbell, 510 U.S. at 582-83. In Campbell, the Court did not demand testimony from 2 Live Crew, or speculate about their subjective intentions. It concluded that elements of parody could reasonably be perceived from the work itself, and that was enough to establish its new meaning and expression. See id.
Ultimately, the meaning of art is defined by the viewer, not a judge, or even the artist himself. A viewer’s reaction to a work of art is shaped by the viewer’s personality, emotions, values, experience and knowledge. So while it is plainly dangerous for those trained in the law to judge the worth or meaning of art, see Campbell, 510 U.S. at 582-83, it is equally dangerous to pretend the meaning of art can be defined solely by the intention of the artist herself, much less her ability to articulate that intention to the satisfaction of judges and lawyers. See Pleasant Grove City v. Summum, 555 U.S. 460, 476 (2009) (recognizing “it frequently is not possible to identify a single ‘message’ that is conveyed” by a government monument, and the sentiments it expresses “may be quite different from those of . . . its creator”); Hurley v. Irish-Am. Gay Lesbian & Bisexual Group of Boston, 515 U.S. 557, 569 (1995) (“a narrow, succinctly articulable message is not a condition of constitutional protection” for expressive speech).
That is not to say the testimony of the artist is irrelevant. If, as in Blanch [v. Koons], the artist can explain the intended meaning of his work and how it differs from the work he borrowed, that testimony may be quite informative. But the failure to provide an explanation as polished as the one Jeff Koons provided in Blanch cannot be fatal. If it were, then every artist who works within this tradition will be forced to concoct a narrative that appeals to legal sensibilities, and the law will succeed in protecting only those artists who are scripted by counsel.
Other rules that protect First Amendment interests do not ask the speaker to demonstrate the value of her speech, or require her to persuade a judge of its worth. Neither does copyright. See Bleistein v. Donaldson Lithographing Co., 188 U.S. 239, 251 (1903) (Holmes, J.) (“It may be more than doubted, for instance, whether the etchings of Goya or the paintings of Manet would have been sure of protection when seen for the first time.”).
The long tradition of appropriating existing images in the context of collage and other expressive practices described in Section I clearly demonstrates the important new meaning and expression these uses deliver. The Court should recognize that the use of existing images in visual art may convey a wide array of transformative meaning that goes far beyond direct commentary on the original and is not limited by the expressed intentions of the artist.
Appropriation art: is Richard Prince’s loss its end? I don’t think so.
The decision holding Richard Prince liable for infringing Patrick Cariou’s copyright in photographs Prince appropriated (which I wrote about 3 days ago) continues to inspire commentary. Donn Zaretsky does his typically excellent work in collecting the range of intelligent commentary and adding his own. He points to what he considers the key point in the decision, the judge’s belief that Prince’s appropriation was not sufficiently “transformative” to constitute fair use of Cariou’s photographs because Prince’s work did not sufficiently comment on or otherwise refer back to Cariou’s photographs (hyperlinks in original):
[T]he key bit is that the court rejected the fair use defense because, as Artnet’s Walter Robinson puts it, “Prince’s works do not specifically comment on Cariou’s originals.” (Robinson says: “Face it, the notion of ‘appropriation’ just doesn’t play well in our law courts.”) The NYT’s Randy Kennedy writes that “Judge Batts wrote that for fair-use exceptions to apply, a new work of art must be transformative in the sense that it must ‘in some way comment on, relate to the historical context of, or critically refer back to the original works’ it borrows from.”
That hasn’t always seemed to be a requirement in other fair use cases. In Blanch v. Koons, for example, the Second Circuit noted that Koons used “Blanch’s image as fodder for his commentary on the social and aesthetic consequences of mass media” (rather than, as Judge Batts would seem to require, fodder for his commentary on Blanch’s image). Quoting the Supreme Court’s Campbell decision, the court said the test of transformativeness is whether the later work “adds something new, with a further purpose or different character, altering the first with new expression, meaning, or message.”
As I wrote the other day, I think the “key” element in the case is the evidence that Cariou had (and that the court apparently found credible) that he had been directly damaged by the appropriation. Cariou had been negotiating with a Manhattan gallery owner for a show of his Yes Rasta photographs when the Gagosian Gallery began showing Prince’s works that appropriated Cariou’s photographs. As a result, the gallery owner considering a show for Cariou’s works backed off, because “she did not want to exhibit work which had been “done already” at another gallery. Slip op. at 6-7. In other words, Prince’s work essentially was functioning as a direct market substitute for Cariou’s work.
That is a far cry from the situation in Blanch v. Koons, in which the Second Circuit Court of Appeals held that Jeff Koons’ appropriation of a photograph in a collage constituted fair use. There was no reason in Blanch to believe that Koons’ work in any way damaged any market for the appropriated photograph.
Moreover, Cariou’s case does not and cannot conceivably be interpreted to overturn Blanch, in which, as Zaretsky correctly notes, the Second Circuit approved Koons’ use of “‘Blanch’s image as fodder for his commentary on the social and aesthetic consequences of mass media’ (rather than, as Judge Batts would seem to require, fodder for his commentary on Blanch’s image).”
Judge Batts’ apparent belief that in order to be sufficiently transformative to qualify as fair use an artistic appropriation must comment on or otherwise refer back to the appropriated work is certainly open to question even apart from the unquestionable continuing vitality of Blanch. The proposition that an appropriation must comment on the original to constitute fair use originates in commentary on Campbell v. Acuff-Rose Music, Inc., 510 U.S. 569, (1994), in which the Supreme Court held that 2 Live Crew’s appropriation of Roy Orbison’s Oh, Pretty Woman was a non-infringing fair use. While the Court did stress the ways in which 2 Live Crew’s reworking of the song “parodied” Oh, Pretty Woman, I think it is worth wondering whether one’s principal reaction to 2 Live Crew’s song is that it is making fun of Orbison’s song. More importantly, Justice Souter, writing for the Court, emphasized that the less an appropriating work damages the market for the original work it appropriates, the less it needs to reflect directly back on the original to the degree to constitute a non-infringing fair use:
A parody that more loosely targets an original than the parody presented here may still be sufficiently aimed at an original work to come within our analysis of parody. If a parody whose wide dissemination in the market runs the risk of serving as a substitute for the original or licensed derivatives (see infra, discussing factor four), it is more incumbent on one claiming fair use to establish the extent of transformation and the parody’s critical relationship to the original. By contrast, when there is little or no risk of market substitution, whether because of the large extent of transformation of the earlier work, the new work’s minimal distribution in the market, the small extent to which it borrows from an original, or other factors, taking parodic aim at an original is a less critical factor in the analysis, and looser forms of parody may be found to be fair use, as may satire with lesser justification for the borrowing than would otherwise be required.
Id. at 580, n. 14. And, indeed, this understanding fits perfectly the decision in Blanch, in which it would be absurd to suggest that Jeff Koons was parodying the specific photograph he appropriated rather than using it to comment on the worlds of commercial and fashion photography in general:
Koons is, by his own undisputed description, using Blanch’s image as fodder for his commentary on the social and aesthetic consequences of mass media. His stated objective is thus not to repackage Blanch’s “Silk Sandals,” but to employ it “`in the creation of new information, new aesthetics, new insights and understandings.’” When, as here, the copyrighted work is used as “raw material,” in the furtherance of distinct creative or communicative objectives, the use is transformative.
The test for whether “Niagara’s” use of “Silk Sandals” is “transformative,” then, is whether it “merely supersedes the objects of the original creation, or instead adds something new, with a further purpose or different character, altering the first with new expression, meaning, or message.”The test almost perfectly describes Koons’s adaptation of “Silk Sandals”: the use of a fashion photograph created for publication in a glossy American “lifestyles” magazine — with changes of its colors, the background against which it is portrayed, the medium, the size of the objects pictured, the objects details and, crucially, their entirely different purpose and meaning — as part of a massive painting commissioned for exhibition in a German art-gallery space. We therefore conclude that the use in question was transformative.
Blanch v. Koons, at 467 F.3d at 252-53.
I think it is crucial to remain cognizant of the fact that the case law establishes that there can be transformative use of copyrighted work in art other than art that ridicules copyrighted work. I have gone on at great length on this blog about the ways our conventional notions of authorship are too narrow and historically ignorant. But Ray Down is downright eloquent on the ways these issues pertain to art over at his Copyright Litigation Blog in connection, specifically, with Richard Prince. His entire post, with helpful illustrations, is well worth your read. Here’s an excerpt:
Fine art, truly fine art in an art gallery, is a place where a copyrighted work becomes a fetish object, a tribute, a decontextualized thing revealing a new meaning. The urinal of Marcel Duchamp. The Brillo Box of Andy Warhol. Both utilitarian objects made by others and fetishized by the artists.
And look at L.H.O.O.Q. – nothing original in the execution, but the Mona Lisa was in the public domain at the time. Prince is blatantly stealing. Plagiarists take the words of others and try to make you believe that they have crafted them. But Prince’s cutouts from advertising, porn and outlaw biker magazines never misled the consumer.
But somewhere, something bothers me about shutting a highly respected fine artist down completely and burning his works when the first sale doctrine would permit him to buy a copy, modify it and resell it. When the First Amendment lets even repulsive speech be heard and the contemporary art world says it is art, I have a problem with the government burning it.
To me, an original work of fine art properly labeled as such by a new artist is almost pure speech – or in some way pure idea – even if it includes major appropriations. Things change when the artwork is widely reproduced. When the consumers are paying tens of thousands for Prince to take something no one is interested in, put his spin on it, and add value. Prince’s “appropriation” added ten million dollars worth of value to a pile of books. Everyone knew he didn’t create the original.
This is not a question of consumers being defrauded, these are wealthy ultrasophisticates on the cutting edge who are the purchasers – surrounded by the top art advisers and critics -if these people feel that Prince’s value added is that great, what is the harm in letting them indulge, as long as Prince legally purchased the original books? In fact, Prince’s prices will probably soar – scarcity and scandal drive art prices up.
From a semiotic perspective, isn’t Prince simply holding up a mirror to people who may not want to look at themselves or their art as art in the hands of another? And if your message is mirror-like, is it less valid? And if you don’t have the verbal skills to articulate what you are doing, is that any less a mirror?
In short, I think Dowd is right, but I also think the death knell of non-parodic appropriation is being rung without reason. Finally, I think that if Cariou convinced the court that Prince’s appropriations robbed Cariou of real opportunities to sell his photographs, the outcome of Cariou’s case is obviously correct and does not threaten the kind of appropriation case people like Zaretsky, Dowd, and I talk about when we talk about appropriation by the likes of Prince, Koons, and Shepard Fairey.
Substantially similar or original? Can’t it be both?
From The Millions: “’Substantially Similar? (after Koons 2010),’ [right] is composed of 36 rectangular panels, each contributed by a different artist and then assembled by the artist who conceived the piece, Alfred Steiner. The result was an instantly recognizable riff on Jeff Koons’s ‘Popeye’ series [left] – an appropriation from an appropriator who has made headlines in several highly publicized copyright cases. A note beside ‘Substantially Similar?’ left no doubt about its creator’s stance on the passionate arguments for and against copyright laws: ‘By engaging these issues, the project may also suggest how copyright antagonizes artistic freedom while providing artists no discernible benefit.’”
Steiner is a “lawyer who happens to be an artist.” Steiner described his methods in composing Substantially Similar? (after Koons 2010):
I took an electronic version of the Koons original and divided it up into 36 pieces and sent each artist just one little piece, via e-mail, so they wouldn’t recognize the whole thing. I gave them instructions on how to create an image based on the image that I’d e-mailed them. The only other instructions were a very close paraphrase of the 2nd Circuit’s test for copyright infringement – which is, “would a reasonable person regard the two works’ esthetic impact as the same?”
TM: In other words, would a layman recognize these two works as being the same thing?
AS: Right.
TM: So the contributors didn’t know what they were reproducing?
AS: Right.
TM: And the result was a piece that looked vaguely like Koons, but was different.
AS: It had the essence of the original but was clearly a new work.
In connection with Girl Talk, Steiner states what is very much my thinking — why would we want to stop something so good?
[Greg Gillis] will make songs that are totally based on samples. One song may have 200 samples, so many that there’s no way you could pay each artist. He’s very well received critically. The question is, should it be possible to make that kind of work or not? I kind of think, yes, it should be possible.
The Korean War Memorial Postage Stamp Photo Case: I was way wrong! But I still think I was right, and I think the case is bad for art.
Consider me dumbfounded, or just plain dumb. I thought the copyright infringement case brought by the sculptor of the Korean War War Veterans Memorial (above, left) against the U.S. Postal Service for the use of the memorial’s image in a postage stamp (above, right) was an “easy case” — that the stamp constituted fair use of the image of the memorial because, among other things, I thought the image was sufficiently “transformative” of the memorial itself to constitute a creative work in its own right.
But today, in Gaylord v. U.S. (pdf),the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit reversed the lower court’s holding and ruled that the stamp infringed the sculptor’s copyright in the memorial (pdf). Whereas I thought the image on the stamp was transformative because, among other things, I wouldn’t have even known it was an image of a sculpture rather than a stylized image of actual soldiers unless I’d read otherwise, the court held that the purpose and character of the image on the postage stamp and the purpose and character of the sculpture were identical: “to honor veterans of the Korean War.” Slip op. at 9. The court rejected the reasoning I had advanced, reasoning as follows:
Although the stamp altered the appearance of The Column by adding snow and muting the color, these alterations do not impart a different character to the work. To the extent that the stamp has a surreal character, The Column and its soldiers themselves contribute to that character. Indeed, the Penn State Team suggested that the Memorial have a “dream-like presence of ghostly figures.” Capturing The Column on a cold morning after a snowstorm—rather than on a warm sunny day—does not transform its character, meaning, or message. Slip Op. at 11.
I am stunned, and I find the court’s limitation of of “transformative” work to work that “comments on or criticizes” the work it appropriates without real rationale, but the odds are long the case will end up before the U.S. Supreme Court. It might be a good case for the Supreme Court to weigh in on — the ease and low cost of copying and disseminating images in this day and age makes any and every sort of appropriation art a contentious and wide open field, but I suspect the Supreme Court would prefer to let these issues simmer in the lower courts for some time before it chooses to weigh in on the question. In the mean time, I have to bow in humility to Donn Zaretsky, with whom I engaged in an online debate last summer on this particular case in particular and on the issue of the photographic appropriation of public art in particular. Donn was right, and I was wrong. I suspect, though, that this isn’t the last word we’ll hear on this type of case.
Addendum: The more I think about the decision in Gaylord, the more wrong-headed I believe it is, and the more I think it falls prey to a dangerous proclivity to commercialize every last aspect of our culture, including art. To limit “transformative” uses of copyrighted materials to uses that comment upon or criticize the copyrighted works they appropriate is to eliminate the use of the kind of appropriation as source material that is the very foundation of art. Copyrighted art works become part of the cultural language. A work that has impact in a culture takes on a meaning of its own. That cultural meaning then becomes part of the language of art, and as a part of that language it then has meaning that can be used in the sorts of compressed and symbolic ways that art needs to use in order to be art. To remove copyrighted works from this language in the absence of payment for their use would substantially damage our culture. By the time a work of art becomes available for the free use of other artists as part of the public domain — the duration of the artist’s life plus 70 years — it no longer will have any resonance worth exploiting.
Moreover, it is, I think, strange that the court in Gaylord reasoned that the photograph of the sculpture was not sufficiently original in its own right to be transformative despite what I referred to above — the fact that one would not likely even spot that the photo was of the the memorial, much less a sculpture — because that character of the photo was merely the product of the fact the photo was shot on a snowy day:
To the extent that the stamp has a surreal character, The Column and its soldiers themselves contribute to that character. Indeed, the Penn State Team suggested that the Memorial have a “dream-like presence of ghostly figures.” Capturing The Column on a cold morning after a snowstorm—rather than on a warm sunny day—does not transform its character, meaning, or message. Nature’s decision to snow cannot deprive Mr. Gaylord of an otherwise valid right to exclude. Slip op. at 11.
This reasoning is strange because, as I have pointed out before, photography itself is protected by copyright as “original” — rather than being rejected as mere transmission of the “facts” it conveys — precisely to the extent it reflects the photographer’s choices regarding the framing of the image, the choice of background and lighting, and the resulting mood:
Decisions rendering the photograph a protectable “intellectual invention” included: the posing and arrangement of [the subject] “so as to present graceful outlines”; the selection and arrangement of background and accessories; the arrangement and disposition of light and shade; and the evocation of the desired expression. Courts today continue to hold that such decisions by the photographer–or, more precisely, the elements of photographs that result from these decisions–are worthy of copyright protection. See, e.g., Rogers v. Koons (”Elements of originality in a photograph may include posing the subjects, lighting, angle, selection of film and camera, evoking the desired expression, and almost any other variant involved.”) (citations omitted). Meshwerks v. Toyotoa Motor Sales, Inc. ( 10th Cir. 2008).
I am not sure how one reconciles the idea that photography constitutes original work entitled to copyright protection with the notion that the elements of the art that give it originality — the elements that are the result of the artist’s choice — are merely “nature’s decision” and therefore not an element that make a work sufficiently original to be entitled to stand on its own without paying its way. I also think that the decision is vacuous as an artistic matter.
Finally, the decision plainly has significance with respect to the claim by the Associated Press that Shepard Fairey’s Obama Hope poster infringed Manny Garcia’s photo of then-candidate Obama. I have stated again and again that I think the Hope poster is a non-infringing fair use primarily because of the way it transforms the photo and stands on its own as a creative work. It was many, many months before anyone even identified which photo was Fairey’s source material; even Garcia himself, despite seeing the poster again and again during those months, did not recognize that the poster was derived from his own photo! But there’s no doubt in my mind that the poster does not constitute a comment or criticism of the photo. Under the Federal Circuit’s reasoning, therefore, Fairey’s poster infringes the photo’s copyright. Fortunately, however, the Federal Circuit’s decision is not binding on the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York, where AP v. Fairey is pending, so that court will be left to its own judgment as to the scope of appropriation art will be permitted in this age of digital copying and transmission.
Here’s hoping, on my part, that the court in that case comes to a different decision. Art is a language that draws on and builds from itself. To reduce the language’s components to commodities would be to commercialize one more part of our lives, monetize one of the few things we have left that have not been reduced to the equivalent of cold cash.
Second Addendum: John E. Grant has a very interesting take on the Gaylord decision – he reads the decision as one that focuses on the stamp rather than the photo the stamp consists of:
In reversing the lower court decision, a 2-1 appellate majority ruled that the trial judge was wrong to focus on the transformative aspects of the photograph. Instead, it held that it must analyze the purpose and character of the stamp. The appellate majority then found that the purpose of the stamp was the same as the purpose of the sculpture: to honor Korean War veterans.
It’s an interesting thought, but I’m not sure I entirely buy it. If the photo itself was fair use, then I do not understand why the photographer did not have the right to license the use of that photo to the government for use on the postage stamp. Further, as Grant acknowledges and as I pointed out above, the court reasoned that although the image on the stamp “altered the appearance of the sculpture, . . . the alterations [were attributable] to mother nature, not the photographer and . . . ’nature’s decision to snow cannot deprive Mr. Gaylord of an otherwise valid right’ to his copyright.” Again, I cannot understand why the very elements that constitute the creative elements of a photograph can in this fair use analysis be passed off as merely “nature’s decisions.”
The fair use test — some cases are easy, some are hard, and some are somewhere in between. A follow up to the dialog regarding the postage stamp and the Korean War Veterans Memorial.
Donn Zaretsky, unsurpisingly, took exception to the post I wrote yesterday, in which I strongly condemned his assertion that “you can make the traditional four-factor fair use analysis do whatever you want it to do. As Judge Kozinski has said, the analysis can always go in either direction.” (emphasis is Zaretsky’s) The back-and-forth originated in our disagreement about the decision that a postage stamp that is a reproduction of a photograph of a sculpture forming part of the Korean War Veterans Monument on the Mall in Washington, D.C. does not infringe the sculptor’s copyright in the sculpture. There is a reproduction of the stamp and a photograph of the sculpture in my original post. I believe the court was right and that the determination that the stamp is a non-infringing fair use is a pretty easy one. Given that he is invested in his belief the law’s 4-part test to determine fair use is an utterly arbitrary one that in every case can as easily support one position as another, Zaretsky thinks I’m wrong.
In response to his latest post, I sent him the following e-mail (hyperlinks added):
Donn -
As I said, judging the competing merits in any case that results in a lawsuit rational parties are willing to take to trial and even up on appeal is almost always a question of choosing between better and worse arguments, not a matter of mechanically applying rules that result in obviously predictable outcomes. But I still haven’t heard your argument that the postage stamp that uses a impressionistic photograph of the sculpture in the Korean War Veterans Monument is not entitled to fair use beyond (1) your mere assertion, borrowed from an IP lawyer, that the stamp is a “derivative,” not a transformative, use and (2) a few unfounded legal contentions regarding the definition of a derivative work and the relevance of the nature of the allegedly infringed work.
First, any work of appropriation art is by definition “derivative”; plainly, the mere fact one work is derived from another does not make it an infringing “derivative” work not entitled to fair use protection. As William Patry puts it in his treatise, Patry on Copyright, “[t]he derivative right is subject to a number of special limitations and one general exception, fair use.” Id., Section 12:24. In other words, calling a work a “derivative” work does not answer the question whether it is fair use. So you can’t evade evaluating the elements of the fair use right merely by denominating a work an allegedly infringing work a ”derivative one.”
Nor is there any basis for the assertion by the IP lawyer on whose opinion you rely that a transformative work can only be a work whose uses and purposes are different than the uses and purposes of the original copyrighted work. First, it is impossible to define a work’s “uses and purposes” in any reasoned way without making that definition the a priori determination of your conclusion regarding whether those uses and purposes are identical to those of another work. You can define the uses and purposes narrowly (the sculpture is intended as a 3 dimensional work of commemorative art displayed in a public forum visited by millions of people every year) or broadly (the sculpture is an expressive aesthetic work)? Are the uses and purposes of the sculpture public art and the stamp a means of governmental commemoration of the sacrifices of our veterans, the creation of a collectible for philatelists, and a means of collecting revenue. If so, the uses and purposes of the works are entirely different. Or are both works expressive works of art? Then they share identical uses and purposes.
Second, even if you’re going to play that logically incoherent definition game, there are numerous cases ruling that works whose uses and purposes were very similar to the uses and purposes of copyrighted works were nonetheless entitled to fair use protection. In Blanch v. Koons, 467 F.3d 244 (2d Cir. 2006),, Jeff Koons’ painting was a two dimensional image, just as was the photograph he appropriated. The court held that Koons’ painting was sufficiently transformative to be a non-infringing fair use of the photograph. In Campbell v. Acuff-Rose Music, 2 Live Crew’s “Pretty Woman” and Roy Orbison’s “Oh, Pretty Woman” were both songs directed at the popular market. The Supreme Court held that 2 Live Crew’s song, despite borrowing almost the entirety of the melody of Orbison’s song, was a non-infringing fair use. In the Wind Done Gone case, both that novel and Gone with the Wind were novels sold for commercial gain. The court held that The Wind Done Gone was a non-infringing fair use despite the fact it borrowed the characters and a lot of the story line from Gone with the Wind.
I could go on, but I’ve made my point: merely stating that the stamp is derived from the sculpture doesn’t begin to answer whether the stamp is a non-infringing fair use, nor is there any legal authority supporting the thought that a transformative work must be a for different uses purposes than the uses and purposes of the source work.
Which is also to say that the mere fact that someone, even an IP lawyer, believes my position is wrong doesn’t mean her argument is as convincing as mine. Obviously, you and everyone else must judge for themselves, but please give me reasoned argument, not baseless assertion.
Plainly too it is well established that merely transposing a novel into a film is not transformative. That answers your point about the Harry Potter novel’s adaptation into a film. The statutory grant of rights to a copyright holder in “derivative” works sets forth the types of transpositions that generally are considered not to be fair use: these include works “such as a translation, musical arrangement, dramatization, fictionalization, motion picture version, sound recording, art reproduction, abridgment, [or] condensation.”
I see Harry Potter movies and I have no question they’re the same stories with the same characters as the books. Many of the characters in the Harry Potter book also are likely merely as characters to be afforded copyright protection as a result of their individuality. In contrast, however, I look at the stamp and a photo of the sculpture and for all I know they’re derived from a common source or similar common sources, not one from the other. (You can see a picture of the stamp and a straightforward photo of the sculpture in my original post.) Moreover, you could hardly call any of the individual figures in the sculpture ones that in themselves are individualized in such a way that they could be considered copyrightable characters; compare those figures to the characters of Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Dumbledore and consider whether your analogy betwen Harry Potter films/Harry Potter books and the stamp/sculpture really is a very compelling analogy.
Nor can you consider the tranformative nature of the allegedly infringing work (part of the factor pertaining to the purpose and character of the challenged work) apart from the other factors in the 4-part test. Among those other factors, the most significant is the effect of the allegedly infringing work on the market for the copyrighted work. I can’t begin to wonder how the stamp could hurt the market the sculptor can exploit with his copyright in the original work. Talk about different uses and purposes! If we take the sculptor’s copyright (as I think we properly should) to extend to straight, “photorealist” depictions of the sculpture (whether in photographs or in other media) that are sold for commercial gain, I can’t see how the stamp would hurt that market. And the sculpture as a sculpture, of course, has no commercial market. It’s public art!
Nor is it legitimate if you are engaging in real legal analysis to dismiss as “completely irrelevant”, as you did in your response to my original post, the fact the sculpture was created for and sold to the government for display in a public area visited by millions of people annually. One of the 4 factors in the 4-factor test is explicitly “the nature of the copyrighted work.” Thus, for example, all else being equal, an appropriating work will have a better shot at being fair use if it appropriates a published work rather than an unpublished work. Why? Because the author of an unpublished work has not yet had an opportunity to exploit the commercial market for his work. For example, J.D. Salinger was able to enjoin the publication of a biography of him that contained large portions of unpublished letters he had written. At the time the biography was scheduled to appear, Salinger had not published
anything for about 30 years. Given this long silence and his immense popularity as a writer, there was a market of readers thirsting to buy anything he’d written that they hadn’t already seen. Thus, regardless of its merits as a biography, the biography was going to be sold to that market, the readers who would buy the book simply because it contained big chunks of previously unpublished writing by Salinger.
In short, the “nature” of the sculpture is very relevant to whether the stamp is entitled to fair use protection. The sculpture is a work of public art on view permanently in a location that is one of the most popular tourist destinations in our country. And it was sold to our government — that is, to the public — rather than to a private art museum. Merely dismissing these facts as “irrelevant” is to ignore that your blog is called the art “law” blog. The law doesn’t ignore these factors. [You might note in connection with this factor that I believe the fact that Mark Cuban sent a message via Twitter to all of his followers demonstrated that he didn't have a very strong interest in controlling the use of the words.]
Finally, a “commercial” product is not one that produces revenue. It is a product produced for private commercial gain. Thus, for example, political advertisements plainly directed at raising money are entitled to greater fair use protection than commercial advertisements. And the fact the appropriating work is used by a non-profit entity also
distinguishes it significantly from one used by a commercial entity seeking to raise revenue for the profit of private persons as private persons. I would also suspect that the fact the non-profit use in the case of the postage stamp is a purely public use (rather, than, say, a use by a private non-profit entity like a foundation) renders it even less “commercial.”
Finally, you bring up several other cases. I’m not sure how bringing them up and suggesting they might be difficult cases supports your proposition that the 4-part test is useless and can be equally supportive of any position. Each claim of fair use must be evaluated on its own merits. As you can see in this little back and forth we are having, there are just too many relevant variable to reduce the judgment to simple rules. But again, the fact that the judgments are complex does not mean that, as you implied in your original post, they are arbitrary.
So the fact you might be able to point me to a difficult fair use case doesn’t mean the 4-part test is arbitrary and useless — and that’s what you said. It means that there’s a legal rule under which there are close cases. And there are others that aren’t. Welcome to the law.
But I’ll give you my quick take on each of those cases anyway, and you can make your own judgments (and call me on it when I turn out to be utterly off base).
I can’t really judge the Catcher in the Rye/60 Years On case because, due to the ruling, I have not been able to compare the two works. Nonetheless, having read the decision and the expert opinions in the case, I wouldn’t be shocked if the trial court’s decision is reversed on appeal. The judge who enjoined the publication of 60 Years On largely based her decision on (1) a determination that Holden Caulfield is a copyrighted character, the Holden character in 60 Years On is identical intellectually and emotionally to the Holden character in Catcher in the Rye, and (2) the fact the author and his representatives represented the book as a “sequel” to Catcher in the Rye, only resorting to calling it a ”parody” when they were sued by Salinger. I think one potential defect in her reasoning was her conclusion that the identity of the 2 Holden’s precluded the possibility that 60 Years On commented upon and criticized Catcher in the Rye. What she seemed to miss is the possibility (one that was central to the declaration sworn to in the case by Martha Woodmansee, a very influential and accomplished scholar of conceptions of authorship and the history of copyright) that it was precisely 60 Years On was, precisely, commenting on the observation that Holden showed no emotional or intellectual development in the course of Catcher in the Rye. In other words, depicting the 80 year old Holden as emotionally and intellectually identical to the 16 year old Holden was a commentary on Holden’s failure to change in the course of the original novel. 60 Years On also seems, through the emotional immaturity of Holden and other literary devices, also to critique Salinger for having frozen himself in time in 1964 as far as his reading public is concerned in 1964. Copyright exists to promote creativity. What has Salinger done since 1964 to promote creativity? If anything, he’s only stifled it in himself and in others.
But we’ll see. The Second Circuit will read the two works, review the sworn statements of the experts, and come to its own conclusion. But, as I said above, I wouldn’t be shocked if it reverses the decision of the trial court judge.
As to the Patrick Cariou/Richard Prince case: I strongly suspect Cariou will win. I’ve thought about this case far less than the others you brought up, but I myself don’t find nearly as great a difference between Prince’s collages and Cariou’s photographs as I do between the stamp is of the Korean War Veteran Memorial sculpture. In addition, both Prince and Cariou’s works are graphic, 2-dimensional works made for personal commercial gain by private individuals. Moreover, there appears to be more individual character in the subjects of Cariou’s photographs than in the sculpture’s figures. I would never imagine that Prince’s collages and Cariou’s photographs were derived from a common third source. I myself think there should be much greater latitude given to appropriation art than the law gives, but the way I read the law I feel I’ll stand by my (pretty superficial assessment) that Cariou likely will win.
As to the Shepard Fairey/Manny Garcia dispute, I’m on record with my strong conviction that Fairey will win. You can see what I’ve written in the posts you’ll find here (set forth in reverse chronological order).
Thanks for reading, and for the dialog, and take care,
peter
ADDENDUM: I seem to have gotten under Zaretsky’s skin, which really isn’t my point. I appreciate the dialog. I don’t think I have all the answers. I might be wrong. But I like to see law supporting legal arguments, not unsupported opinions. Before I’d even finished the e-mail above, he had posted another piece, this one arguing I’m wrong to conclude, emphatically, that there’s no way the postage stamp could have an impact on the market the for the sculptor’s copyrighted work. He argues, in essence, that there is an impact on the market for the copyrighted work because if the Postal Service had paid for a license to use an image of his sculpture on their stamp he would have made money and that granting fair use protection to “derivative works” would deprive the copyright holder of the income he is entitled to from derivative works. In support of this argument he relies on a law professor’s statement that “The right way to frame the question [whether a work has an impact on a copyrighted work's market], I think, is whether an artist who creatively appropriates a … photograph needs to pay for a license to do so.”
Again, no cases, no statutes — just opinions. And the point simply doesn’t make sense to me. Maybe someone can make sense of it to me; maybe I’m dense. But, again, this argument seems circular. An artist needs to pay for a license to appropriate a copyrighted work only if the artist’s work is not entitled to fair use protection. The only way to determine whether a work is entitled to fair use protection is to work your way through the 4-part test. If you concluded, for example, that any artist making a collage needed to pay for a license to use any copyrighted work appropriated in the collage, Jeff Koons could not have won in Blanch v. Koons.
While one of the 4 factors in the 4-part test is the impact of the work on the copyrighted work’s markets, it wouldn’t make sense to assume that the copyrighted work’s markets must include the market for all types of works like the challenged one. To do so would be to assume that any appropriating work that produces a revenue stream is not fair use. That is not the law.
Finally, Zaretsky refers again to the decision in the 60 Years On/Catcher in the Rye case. He points out that the judge, in ruling that finding that 60 Years On is entitled to fair use protection would potentially have an impact on the market value inherent in Salinger’s copyright in Catcher in the Rye, stated “it is quite likely that the publishing of 60 Years and similar widespread works could substantially harm the market for a Catcher sequel or other derivative works.”
Besides the fact that I think there is a real possibility that decision will be reversed on appeal, there are a couple of reasons I don’t find this reasoning terribly persuasive. First, the conclusion that there is a potential harm to the market for Catcher sequels or other derivative works assumes the conclusion I suggested above might be the basis of a reversal — the appellate court might well find that 60 Years On is no mere sequel but instead constitues a genuinely creative commentary upon and critique of Catcher in the Rye and Salinger himself.
Second — and this is where I’ll stray much further away from anything I’ve seen in the case law than in anything I’ve written regarding Zaretsky’s statements yesterday or today — this reasoning seems contrary to the entire purpose of copyright: to promote creativity. Let’s suppose copyright law did not prevent people from writing sequels to books by other people and someone wrote a sequel to Catcher in the Rye that in no way, shape, or form consituted a commentary upon or critique of Catcher in the Rye (and let’s assume such a thing were possible). Let’s say too that Salinger himself wrote a sequel to Catcher in the Rye. What would happen? One possibility, the most likely one perhaps, is that the knock-off sequel had no market impact because the market judged it to be a poor substitute for the real thing. In that case Salinger has suffered no harm. Let’s suppose instead that the knock-off was deemed by the market far better than Salinger’s sequel. Then Salinger has suffered harm, but why? Because the audience has determined that the knock-off was better. To prevent its publication, therefore, would be to stifle creativity, not to promote it. The same would be true if the knock-off and other knock-offs competed well but did not overwhelm Salinger’s work. We’d have two or more works the market had judged substantially equal in creative worth. In other words, the market will reward or punish the copyright holder according to the extent he maintains his creative edge. Why should copyright law step in and change that result?
Don’t forget to call your mashup a reflection and critique of the works it appropriates!
In determining whether a work that appropriates a copyrighted work is a non-infringing fair use, the fundamental issue is whether the new work transforms the copyrighted work to a degree that makes the new work so creative it stands on its own. One thing that puzzles me is the degree to which courts rely on the artist’s expressed intent in deciding whether the new work is transformative. Are we really supposed to ground our determination of whether a work is “transformative” in the artist’s own expressed purposes?
To do so poses all sorts of problems. As Sister Wendy Beckett explains in the Encyclopedia Britannica Online in words that are so well accepted they are almost trite,
The passageway provided by art is very wide. No single interpretation of art is ever “right,” not even the artist’s own. He or she can tell us the intent of the work, but the actual meaning and significance of the art, what the artist achieved, is a very different matter. (It is pitiable to hear the grandiose discussions of artists’ work by the least talented of our contemporaries.) We should listen to the appreciations of others, but then we should put them aside and advance toward a work of art in the loneliness of our own truth. Each of us encounters the work alone, and how much we receive from it is wholly the effect of our will to accept this responsibility.
What was Jackson Pollock’s purpose in painting Lavender Mist? Van Gogh’s in painting The Irises? Haven’t we accepted by now the limitations focus on artistic intention would impose on our appreciation of art?
Not only does art live in its relationship with its audience, not in its creator’s mind, but to explore questions of intent in determining a work’s originality inevitably will raise questions of an artist’s stature. Is Jeff Koons original? According to Wikipedia, ‘[s]upporters claim (for Balloon Dog) “an awesome presence… a massive durable monument’ (Amy Dempsey, ed. Styles, Schools and Movements, 2002, Thames & Hudson), and for other work that it is possible to be ‘wowed by the technical virtuosity and eye-popping visual blast’ (Jerry Saltz, art critic). On the other hand, “Mark Stevens of The New Republic dismissed [Koons] as a ‘decadent artist [who] lacks the imaginative will to do more than trivialize and italicise his themes and the tradition in which he works… He is another of those who serve the tacky rich.’ Michael Kimmelman of The New York Times saw ‘one last, pathetic gasp of the sort of self-promoting hype and sensationalism that characterized the worst of the 1980s’ and threw in for good measure “artificial,” cheap” and “unabashedly cynical.”‘”
It seems likely a lot of people would have a difficult time considering anything by Koons original.
Yet, in Blanch v. Koons, 467 F.3d 244, 252-53 (2d Cir. 2007)(emphasis added), the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit, in holding that Koons’ appropriation of a copyrighted photograph constituted fair use, based its conclusion that the new work was “transformative” precisely on Koons’ statements regarding what he intended:
Koons asserts — and Blanch does not deny — that his purposes in using Blanch’s image are sharply different from Blanch’s goals in creating it. Compare Koons Aff. at P4 (“I want the viewer to think about his/her personal experience with these objects, products, and images and at the same time gain new insight into how these affect our lives.”) with Blanch Dep. at 112-113 (“I wanted to show some sort of erotic sense[;] . . . to get . . . more of a sexuality to the photographs.”). The sharply different objectives that Koons had in using, and Blanch had in creating, “Silk Sandals” confirms the transformative nature of the use. See Bill Graham Archives, 448 F.3d at 609 (finding transformative use when defendant’s purpose in using copyrighted concert poster was “plainly different from the [*253] original purpose for which they were created”); see also 17 U.S.C. § 107(1) (first fair-use factor is the “purpose and character of the use” (emphasis added)).
Koons is, by his own undisputed description, using Blanch’s image as fodder for his commentary on the social and aesthetic consequences of mass media. Castle Rock Entm’t, 150 F.3d at 142 (quoting Leval, supra, 103 Harv. L. Rev, at 1111). When, as here, the copyrighted work is used as “raw material,” Castle Rock Entm’t, 150 F.3d at 142 (internal quotation marks and citation omitted), in the furtherance of distinct creative or communicative objectives, the use is transformative. Id.; see also Bill Graham Archives, 448 F.3d at 609 (use of concert posters “as historical artifacts” in a biography was transformative); Leibovitz v. Paramount Pictures Corp., 137 F.3d 109, 113 (2d Cir. 1998) (parody of a photograph in a movie poster was transformative when “the ad [was] not merely different; it differ[ed] in a way that may reasonably be perceived as commenting” on the original). His stated objective is thus not to repackage Blanch’s “Silk Sandals,” but to employ it “‘in the creation of new information, new aesthetics, new insights and understandings.’”
The test for whether “Niagara’s” use of “Silk Sandals” is “transformative,” then, is whether it “merely supersedes the objects of the original creation, or instead adds something new, with a further purpose or different character, altering the first with new expression, meaning, or message.” Campbell, 510 U.S. at 579 (internal quotation marks and citation omitted, alteration incorporated); Davis, 246 F.3d at 174 (same). The test almost perfectly describes Koons’s adaptation of “Silk Sandals”: the use of a fashion photograph created for publication in a glossy American “lifestyles” magazine — with changes of its colors, the background against which it is portrayed, the medium, the size of the objects pictured, the objects’ details and, crucially, their entirely different purpose and meaning — as part of a massive painting commissioned for exhibition in a German art-gallery space. We therefore conclude that the use in question was transformative.
Given the focus on an artist’s expressed intent in making a work of art, it would seem wise for appropriation artists to be versed in the proper lingo. Call your work “a reflection and criticism of the themes evoked by the original.” You might even want to call your work a “parody” of the original, but doing so might be a little too blatant. It is plain that in the recent decision enjoining the publication of a “sequel” to The Catcher in the Rye, the judge was significantly influenced by the fact the author and his representatives had described the work in words that didn’t fit the legal standard they wanted to meet. The judge’s opinion seems in fact to indicate that if only the author had used the magic words to describe his work the outcome might have been different:
Until the present lawsuit was filed, Defendants made no indication that 60 Years [the new work] was in any way a parody or critique of Catcher [in the Rye]. Quite to the contrary, the original jacket of 60 Years states that it is “. . . a marvelous sequel t one of our most beloved classics.” . . . Additionally, when initially confronted with the similarities between the two works, rather than explaining that 60 Years was a parody or critique of Catcher, Colting’s [the new work’s author] literary agent, Mr. Sane, contended that 60 Years “is a completely freestanding novel that has nothing to do with the original Catcher in the Rye.”
Opinion and Order at 16, n. 3.
Colting, obviously, should have called his work a parody and critique, not a sequel or a “freestanding novel.” It’s odd to think that makes a difference, though. No matter what he said, his work would be the same.
Do we really want to treat artists like shoplifters?
Effective lawyering, like any effective practice, requires choosing the right objective. There are less charitable ways to think of this strategy. I could just as easily write that effective lawyering requires choosing the right victim. You don’t sue someone who will beat you, no matter how righteous your cause. Sun Tzu made this strategy plain: “If your enemy if superior in strength, evade him.” The Art of War (ch.1, v.21), That’s why, for example, I don’t think Metallica will sue Girl Talk even though Girl Talk makes music by sampling the recordings of a myriad of artiststs that include litigants as aggressive as Metallica. Girl Talk’s work may consist entirely of sampled copyrighted works, but it is work constructed so creatively that it constitutes something genuinely new and creative, something, in the words of the law, that is “transformative” of its copyrighted materials.
Girl Talk is like Jeff Koons. In Blanch v. Koons, 467 F.3d 244, 252-53 (2d Cir. 2007), the United States Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit ruled that Jeff Koons’ appropriation of a copyrighted photograph in a painting did not infringe the photographer’s copyright because Koons’s use of the photograph was “transformative”:
Koons is, by his own undisputed description, using [the copyrighted photograph] as fodder for his commentary on the social and aesthetic consequences of mass media. . . . When, as here, the copyrighted work is used as “raw material,” . . . in the furtherance of distinct creative or communicative objectives, the use is transformative. . . . His stated objective is thus not to repackage Blanch’s “Silk Sandals,” but to employ it “in the creation of new information, new aesthetics, new insights and understandings.”
Instead of going after the artists like Girl Talk and Jeff Koons, copyright holdlers (typically large media conglomerates) go after victims they think they can beat into submission. Thus, for example, Prince’s music company, Universal Music Group, sought to remove the 29 second video of a mom’s son dancing to Prince’s “Let’s Go Crazy” from YouTube via a takedown notice under the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (the “DMCA”). Other people think suing college students for illegally downloading music is the right strategy for resolving the inevitable conflicts posed by the clash between our new technologies and our old copyright laws. College students don’t have the money to defend lawsuits brought by media companies. And, the thinking goes, if a bunch of defenseless law students are deterred, everyone else will fall into line:
In a lot of ways, downloading is more like shoplifting than it is like “piracy,” the term often used for it. Pirates embrace a life of crime; shoplifters often see their activity (wrongly) as an exciting and slightly risky diversion – a relatively petty vice in an otherwise law-abiding life.
The recording industry will have to use similar tactics, and like retail stores, they will have to live with a small loss from undetected stealing. But that loss can be minimized, through warnings, monitoring, and enforcement. And word of enforcement spreads. . . . Few students will keep downloading once their classmates have famously gotten in deep trouble for doing just that. That is good for them, but even better for us. . . .
The more seriously society takes shoplifting, the more shoplifters will be deterred. The same is true, I believe, for illegal downloaders. Every law-breaking student has a diploma at stake, and only a scintilla of students are hardened criminals. Like the thrill of shoplifting, the thrill of illegal downloading may fade quickly in the face of serious penalties, and a real risk of getting caught.
There is a big problem with this reasoning. The use of copyrighted materials without permission is not like shoplifting. Intellectual property is not tangible property, and the law does not equate the two. As I wrote just yesterday,
We are not a society oriented only toward property ownership. Free expression, based primarily in the First Amendment of the Bill of Rights, is also foundational to our society. It is exposure to ideas, and not to their particular expression, that is vital if self-governing people are to make informed decisions. There is, however, an inherent tension here. While the First Amendment disallows laws that abridge the freedom of speech, the Copyright Clause calls specifically for such a law. The First Amendment gets government off speakers’ backs, while the Copyright Act enables speakers to make money from speaking and thus encourages them to enter the public marketplace of ideas. Balancing this conflict is precisely the purpose of the fair use doctrine,
The problem is a real one. I have a new friend, Cathy Vogan, who has created Futurisms, a film that uses the song Que Sera Sera as a jumping off point to comment on the song’s naivete in the face of Reality. I think Futurisms is a genuinely creative work.
But Facebook has removed Futurisms from its site, and while the company gives my new friend an opportunity to file a “counter-notification” contending that she has a right to have her film posted, when she looks at what she must declare to file the counter-notification, she sees, in her words, “a scary legal word: ‘perjury,’ and wonder[s] what will happen to me if I proceed.”
Who can blame her? Should she take on Facebook? She is a struggling, but fairly well-known video artist with 8 international awards who has never sought to make money from her creative work.”Futurisms” was completed a few months ago, and has never been shown anywhere, besides her website and Facebook.
Stephanie Lenz took on Universal Music Group and won. Thankfully, she had the help of the Electronic Frontier Foundation. What should Cathy do? I think she should file her counter-notification. “Perjury” requires lying, and as long as she doesn’t lie, there’s no harm in filing the notification. The worst that can happen is that Facebook will refuse to alter its position.
But do we really want to treat artists like shoplifters?
ADDENDUM: Cathy filed her counter-notification, and Facebook has restored FUTURISMS. Here it is too: