“A Forger’s Tale” is Shaun Greenhalgh’s new book, a memoir about his life as one of the most notorious art forgers in Britain. Greenhalgh refers to it as his tell-all, but should we believe all that he tells?

Because of the depictions of forgers, fraudsters and con-men in the past, I am always wary of unreliable sources of information out there, that are often more focused on glorifying them as heroes, rather than informing the audience. Thus, for some reason, I find it hard to trust a forger.

It may be because of their track record, or just my built-in skepticism, but this short background might help explain why I am the untrusting AJC columnist I am today: Con-artists have always been objects of interest in pop culture; from DiCaprio’s Frank Abagnale Jr. to Bomer's Neal Caffrey, audiences have been continually enticed with these charming fraudsters. The term itself seems to have been crafted in lieu of their image, and refers to them as con artists.

However, their portrayal on screen and their identity in real life may differ vastly. Having focused more on persona rather than crime & motive, we do not know much of the truth about our unlawful mischief-makers. To begin with, we saw the blonde-haired DiCaprio escape from the toilet of a taxiing airplane as Frank Abagnale Jr. in Spielberg’s 2002 hit “Catch Me If You Can” — but how much of this was true?

Well, the airplane scene in “Catch Me If You Can” is confirmed to be true by Frank Abagnale Jr. himself in his book of the same title, however, according to HistoryvsHollywood and PanAm, airplane experts have repeatedly confirmed that it would be impossible to do so, as the entire unit is sealed from the inside and is mounted on top of a tank that weighs over 100 pounds. So, is this yet another one of Abagnale’s attempts to fool us?

Now that my skepticism might seem more reasonable, let’s get to Chubby Abagnale. Although con-men, or forgers in this case, may have ulterior motives or less cinematically-suitable processes in real life, it is still hard to deny their quick-thinking and creativity, which might explain why their stories appeal to us so much. If you are intent on exploring such a story — or want to learn from it, without the usual exaggeration and fictionalization, none might be more suitable than that of Shaun Greenhalgh.

Shaun Greenhalgh was born in Bolton in 1960 to George and Olive Greenhalgh, who would later become the foundation of the Bolton Garden Shed Gang, a family run art forgery venture. But before he rose to the high ranks of criminals that operated out of garden sheds, Shaun was a young Bolton boy, and an exceptionally skilled artist. What began as making and selling fake clay antiques, with a viewing-trip to Rome, turned into a million-dollar business, even landing one of his forgeries into the possession of Bill Clinton.

In addition to his connection with ex-presidents, an extremely interesting aspect of Greenhalgh's story is not just in his forgeries, but also his behavior after his arrest. Like an out-of-service vending machine, Greenhalgh apologizes for the inconvenience. Rather than being impressed with himself for having fooled the art industry, he puts himself on the stand, and looks back at his crimes with regret, and that he always felt guilty. “I wasn’t cock-a-hoop that I’d fooled the experts,” he says. Greenhalgh’s pathos is well crafted, and he seems intent on showing the world that he isn’t impressed with himself, unlike our friend Frank Abagnale Jr. whose book, may I remind you, is titled “Catch Me If You Can”.

But the moment Shaun shone the brightest was when he declined early release from his term, which either displays great discipline and willpower, or an unhealthy obsession over image preservation. Whatever the reason may be, Greenhalgh made sure he had something to do with his spare prison time, and worked on his book.

Now, 57, and having spent four-and-a-half years in prison, Greenhalgh sits in his workshop, making art. He reminisces over his work, and recounts his most famous forgeries, "La Bella Principessa" and "Before Kick Off," the first of which is still not proven to be a forgery, but he claims he made it at the age of 18, on 16th-century vellum bought from a nearby antique shop. Greenhalgh still makes his forgeries, but mostly does so for documentaries that use his work. Although he is skilled in a variety of mediums, from clay and oils to marble and bronze, Greenhalgh thinks his natural style is closest to John Ruskin and J.M.W. Turner.

Looking at the pieces he has made in the past, however, it is clear that Greenhalgh can recreate almost any artwork. For example, his Gaugin faun sculpture is clearly very different from his natural watercolor-y, chiaroscuro-y style. Greenhalgh has also expressed an interest in teaching, but he thinks he is unlikely to do so, as he thinks he has no style of his own. But, Dear Chubby Abagnale, wouldn’t a student rather have a teacher that helps them hone their own skills, rather than someone who indoctrinates theirs in them?

A workshop idea, maybe.