SQUARE TIMES
The art world appears to be the most backward thinking, anti laissez-faire environment in which to implement projects; compared even to the accounting or legal realms. Information, contacts, and resources are guarded like state secrets. The de rigueur four white walls, bland and unimaginative, uniformly adorn all exhibition spaces the world over, institutional and commercial alike. That is, save for a few adventurous museums such as the Palais de Tokyo in Paris, and the Guggenheims in Las Vegas at the Venetian Hotel. Who could have imagined that innovation would arise not from the cottage industry, entrepreneurial gallery universe but from the staid world of art institutions? Considering the exclusive, high-end boutique atmosphere of most galleries and "alternative" spaces, I suppose it is no surprise indeed. Galleries went fleeing wholesale from the accessible Soho neighborhood in New York never casting a backwards glance at the ubiquitous, dreaded tourists and casual passers-by. The destination instead was shifted to the Chelsea district, well clear of the reach of public transportation, and replete with boundless garage spaces at the ready for Richard Gluckman (and the wannabes) to work his ho-hum, tiresome architectural legerdemain. What you have is akin to the Turbine Hall Syndrome, derived from the gigantism of the Tate Modern foyer in London-get big art to fill a big space for the sake of filling a space, irregardless of the content. Art that would not exist in such form other than to consume the sheer volume of the container. The more the merrier, and in the process feeding the market with plenty of fodder, I mean, masterpieces like 80 or 100 spot paintings.
TIMES SQUARE
I would rent a ground floor storefront situated squarely in the Times Square district to present a group show of emerging and under-recognized artists in all media, with a restaurant, separate but contiguous, that had the possibility of seamlessly becoming one joint space. This would in effect create a comfortable interior in which to view art and a social one to boot. Similar to the flickering figures across the facade of the NASDAQ building, and the video images that race across much of recent Times Square architecture, art would bulge from this storefront rather than the usual corporate blather back onto the street. The inside would be designed by Vito Acconci an artist that has radically shifted his practice over the years without paying heed to popular tastes, and constantly challenged himself and his public in the process. Acconci has suffered mightily in the eyes of the art market for assuming this activist position. Acconci Studio has recently designed ConTEMPorary, my new experimental space at 14 Charles Lane in New York's West Village, with the only parameter that there be no white walls (wending, maneuverable ones of steel mesh were utilized instead). Rather than the status quo of Tuesday to Saturday, 10 AM -6 PM hours prevalent on every continent where a contemporary gallery resides, this space would be open seven days a week, from 9 AM to 12 AM. This would intrinsically expand upon the micro-audience that typically attends any given contemporary exhibit. Instead of constantly devising ways to whittle down an audience as the galleries are wont to do, why not reach out to a mainstream audience and subtly introduce them to the world of art? The manner in which this could be almost effortlessly accomplished is not by convincing the public that art is solely for the committed, and knowable only to professionals, but gently coaxing people to trust their own intuitive reactions to things in and of themselves. Call me a cynical idealist. And by the way, there certainly would be no sign in sight that delineated this place as a gallery-nothing would more surely alienate and turn away the street traffic except maybe a banner announcing a site to volunteer for the inevitable war in Iraq.
Monday, December 16, 2002
Thursday, December 5, 2002
THE UNENFORCEABLE ANDREA ROSEN CONTRACT (ARTinvestor Magazine, Winter 2002)
A John Curin painting appeared in an advertisement for an upcoming auction at Phillips in an art magazine. When Andrea Rosen of the eponymous gallery got wind of the consigned Curin lot, she notified the auction house of a sales agreement in effect that every client of the gallery is compelled to sign prior to the purchase of any artwork. The contract states that each collector will: offer the work back to the Rosen Gallery should it be resold; not auction a piece under any circumstances; and, not exhibit it without written consent of the artist. Additionally, if the gallery declines to purchase a work prior to resale, the original buyer must forward to Rosen the name and address of the new collector. Phillips withdrew the Curin slated for auction. Andrea Rosen succeeded in not only restricting the free transfer of an artwork, but even further, prohibited the transfer itself. Signing of the so called "Sales Agreement" is now a trend that has been followed by Matthew Marks, and Barbara Gladstone galleries as well-a blow to laissez-faire economics that is as incomprehensible as it is unsound.
A legal analysis of the relevant case law and applicable statutes in New York State and on a Federal level reveal that the contract is on its face illegal and unenforceable in a court of law. A casual conversation with a staff member of the Rosen gallery disclosed an admission of this fact, which indicates that the intent to continue to proffer the document is plainly to intimidate gallery clients into falling in line if they wish to continue doing business with Rosen and her colleagues. Many unsuspecting collectors that have abided by the wrongful covenants unilaterally dictated by the galleries have in essence been robbed of the opportunity to achieve full fair market value for their artworks in the resale and auction markets.
The common-law rule against unreasonable restraints on the distribution of property invalidates unduly restrictive controls on future transfers but requires a case by case analysis that measures reasonableness of the restraint by its price, duration and purpose. The statutory rule provides that any restrictive transfer without delimitation is void if it suspends the absolute power of alienation for a period beyond lives in being at the creation of the covenant plus 21 years. Both the statutory and common-law rules attempt to strike a balance between society's interest to freely transfer property and the rights of parties to control future transactions. There is no consideration paid for by Rosen for the right to restrict subsequent sales; such alleged "agreement" is unlimited in time and could conceivably last forever; and, the purported purpose of protecting her artists' markets is not outweighed by the unqualified restriction on free trade. Such agreements have in the past been upheld if they facilitate a broader marketing of the art, rather than the Rosen case which only applies a prophylactic constriction of the marketing of the works. The Rosen Sales Agreement fails on all three fronts, not even taking into consideration the Draconian ban against auctioning. What has been upheld on previous contracts of this nature but missing from the Rosen version is a provision entitling the collector to offer the artwork to a third party and only then to provide the option holder (Rosen) the chance to meet the price.
The more patently offensive proviso calls for no auctioning of the art. Where auction restrictions have been upheld they have provided the collector with the possibility of proposing a price for the artwork to the dealer and if that price was not agreed upon between the parties, it was set forth that a major auction house representative set a price level. Rosen's proscription to auction hinders not only the buyer's ability to achieve the most for their art when they wish to sell, but also additionally, the artist's capacity to increase their market levels via public, open auction. Such clause is unreasonable under any interpretation of the law. Instead of buyers beware, sellers beware! Would anyone like to join a class action?
A legal analysis of the relevant case law and applicable statutes in New York State and on a Federal level reveal that the contract is on its face illegal and unenforceable in a court of law. A casual conversation with a staff member of the Rosen gallery disclosed an admission of this fact, which indicates that the intent to continue to proffer the document is plainly to intimidate gallery clients into falling in line if they wish to continue doing business with Rosen and her colleagues. Many unsuspecting collectors that have abided by the wrongful covenants unilaterally dictated by the galleries have in essence been robbed of the opportunity to achieve full fair market value for their artworks in the resale and auction markets.
The common-law rule against unreasonable restraints on the distribution of property invalidates unduly restrictive controls on future transfers but requires a case by case analysis that measures reasonableness of the restraint by its price, duration and purpose. The statutory rule provides that any restrictive transfer without delimitation is void if it suspends the absolute power of alienation for a period beyond lives in being at the creation of the covenant plus 21 years. Both the statutory and common-law rules attempt to strike a balance between society's interest to freely transfer property and the rights of parties to control future transactions. There is no consideration paid for by Rosen for the right to restrict subsequent sales; such alleged "agreement" is unlimited in time and could conceivably last forever; and, the purported purpose of protecting her artists' markets is not outweighed by the unqualified restriction on free trade. Such agreements have in the past been upheld if they facilitate a broader marketing of the art, rather than the Rosen case which only applies a prophylactic constriction of the marketing of the works. The Rosen Sales Agreement fails on all three fronts, not even taking into consideration the Draconian ban against auctioning. What has been upheld on previous contracts of this nature but missing from the Rosen version is a provision entitling the collector to offer the artwork to a third party and only then to provide the option holder (Rosen) the chance to meet the price.
The more patently offensive proviso calls for no auctioning of the art. Where auction restrictions have been upheld they have provided the collector with the possibility of proposing a price for the artwork to the dealer and if that price was not agreed upon between the parties, it was set forth that a major auction house representative set a price level. Rosen's proscription to auction hinders not only the buyer's ability to achieve the most for their art when they wish to sell, but also additionally, the artist's capacity to increase their market levels via public, open auction. Such clause is unreasonable under any interpretation of the law. Instead of buyers beware, sellers beware! Would anyone like to join a class action?
Saturday, November 16, 2002
JASPER WHO? (Tema Celeste Magazine Fall/Winter 2002)
From the 1913 Armory Show in New York which was front page news to Jackson Pollack appearing on the cover of life magazine to Warhol and the Pop movement, it seems that contemporary art has been falling further and further out of the consciousness of the general public. Perhaps this is a factor of the commercial art world, which has grown more business oriented, and more akin to a specialty niche marketplace which only embraces it's own rather than focusing on cultivating new audiences. It is not maintained that the collective populous ever uniformly cherished art, but it was part of the discourse, the public imagination and it certainly is not now.
There appears to be a marked difference in other countries such as England, and Germany for instance when it comes to recognition and awareness of contemporary artists. The antics of Tracey Emin, Damien Hirst and other members of the still percolating YBA movement have garnered so many headlines over the past decade that knowledge of their art and sometimes behavior have trickled down from the echelons of the art establishment to just about every cab driver. From Emin nearly puking drunk live on TV to Hirst's filleted animals, the fodder of tabloids has culminated in advertising campaigns featuring Emin posing in Viviane Westwood and even peddling booze (a cynical angle that wouldn't float in puritanical America). Hirst's signature vitrines are aped in all sorts of media from political cartoons to insurance adverts. In Germany, though most may disagree with the artistic merit of a pile of fat casually clumped in the corner of a room, the majority recognizes Beuys' output. Further, it is not uncommon to spy one of his unlimited editions in the home of a middle class family with no art contacts. Not since Warhol garnered a Love Boat TV series cameo has an American artist neared that level of notoriety.
Television-wise, in any given year, the measly 5 stations in the UK boast more contemporary arts programming than the past 5 years in the US. There has been countless UK documentaries on artists of all stripes, and many instances where artists have been commissioned to create original segments for TV. This is a phenomenon with virtually no parallel in the US. Here we are treated to episodes of 60 Minutes, "Yes, But is it Art Part I & II" where a busload of kids are stood before a Basquiat painting and queried whether they could do a better job. Critic Robert Hughes had a Public Broadcasting Network special a number of year's back where he expounded upon how initials scratched into a tree was more artistic than contemporary art. He was some prescient choice to helm the curator's post for the upcoming Venice Biennial, shame he withdrew. Of late in the US, there was the monotonous thematic show entitled Egg, which touched on art from time to time and was in turn cancelled, and Art 21, which profiled a group of contemporary artists last year, over the course of four episodes. Though the reported audience remarkably totaled 2 million for the entire broadcast, and more were ordered, the show stuck to an unprogressive, uninspired format that lacked even rudimental entertainment value. Financing has yet to be locked into place to fund a continuation of the series.
During the summer of 2002 a non-scientific survey was conducted featuring on-the-street interviews with in excess of 100 randomly selected individuals in Manhattan neighborhoods from Wall Street to Harlem. The intent was to subjectively gauge general perceptions of the relevance of contemporary art to the everyday lives of a cross-section of people. Questions were posed to take the pulse of how people felt about galleries, museums, technology in art, and notions of beauty, among others. Additionally, when there was some level of familiarity with art and artists among interview subjects, a laundry list was read containing names from Picasso to Matthew Barney to get a glimpse of how well the art world communicates its most talented ranks across societal boundaries.
Gone are the days of Picasso or Abstract Expressionism where an artist or movement held sway in the imagination of the general pubic. Though art was prominent in the minds of many as a personalized inward notion of creativity explored on a regular basis, contemporary art was judged a specialized professional niche more akin to the study of artificial intelligence. In fact, a number of those interviewed sensed the intelligence bandied about in the professional art world to be artificial. Under the guise of art was considered a wide of variety of activities from cutting hair, rap, and architecture, to the way a person walks across the street; that is, everything save for contemporary art itself.
Although a common explanation of the role of art was to reflect emotions and an interpretation of the world the way it is experienced-there was a marked contrast with the fact that no one acknowledged contemporary art's penchant to do this. Could it be a hesitancy to accept the current uncertain state of society or at least to do so through the lens of the present-day artist? "Art is dead" could also relate to the fact that civility is felt to be dead, which is not just endemic to the art world but to society at large. New art has lost its ability to meaningfully communicate to a broad-based audience beyond other art professionals. There was rarely an instance where contemporary art evinced any particular relevance to the daily lives of people not enmeshed in the world of art. Additionally, there was a conviction that contemporary artists and art professionals purposefully obfuscate art and the context within which it is viewed to make it overly erudite and hence more dear.
Aside from a mirroring of present day political and social woes that no one wants to face, a possible rationalization for the disinclination towards new art forms was the consent that they are lacking a traditional sense of skill, technique and human touch involved in the processes. This is especially so in the realms of computer and video art which are seen as not just a short cut, but akin to cheating. Another telling comment was that present art making was viewed as "images of images of images", thus a removal, or distancing of art production from primary experience or traditional notions of beauty and affirmed art subject matter. Though, in contravention to this sentiment, most would be unaware of the derision the lot of Impressionists and Post Impressionists were met with when first exhibiting their paintings versus the universal admiration and blockbuster status they were met with here, where "Target stores have all the Van Gogh prints!"
A backlash to art viewed as shocking, call it The Sensation Syndrome after the Saatchi collection exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum in 1999, was manifest which inured people from being affected by art judged offensive. Today there is a weariness, numbness, and level of familiarity with art meant to affront in the vein of Damien Hirst to the extent that this variety of art is regarded academic, as stated: "Breaking the rules is practically a college course". Also, by pandering to the aesthetics of offensiveness, the only emotions elicited from the general public were that those efforts smacked of juvenilia.
There was a clear skepticism in such comments as contemporary art was an inside joke and "a racket", and not of the Richard Prince variety. The only idea about geometry in art shared by interview subjects was the perception that a line delineates the real world from the art world, describing distinct spheres where there is no crossover only mutual alienation. Characterizations ranging from soulless, to fraud, to being too cerebral-all were geared towards rationalizing a dismissal of new art. This seems to be recognized as the fault of artists from failing to make an effort to connect with the rest of society. As put forth by one: "Artists live in a post modern dreamy dreamy world."
"Now its greed it's just making money, it's become big business like everything else. You buy a name". Art is seen as part of the Prada parade and artists are nothing more then brand names where people buy into trends or fashion whether or not there is a full comprehension of the significance of the artwork at hand. "It's about buying and owning rather than appreciating beauty." This is in contrast to feelings that art is part of the patrimony of the country, something not to be profited from and something at everyone's disposal. "I don't know if the pubic cares anymore. It's kind of sad. It's closed doors." This is surprising in light of the lack of admission to gain entry to galleries, art being the only free lunch in town! However, refreshingly, the majority of participants didn't consider art strictly for the wealthy; rather, what turned people off was the content of the art itself ("New art is like-you know Coors Light") and the environs in which it is observed that was largely responsible for the antagonism and aversion. Galleries and even museums were widely viewed as clinical, sterile, and elitist-all adjectives of intimidation, where there was a shared feeling of antipathy relating to the art going experience: "I don't like it when they follow you around everywhere and they don't want you to touch anything."
Despite the popular appeal of architecture largely wrought by the Guggenheim phenomenon ("I've been to a couple of Guggenheims in Europe") there is a tedium in the sameness of gallery interiors the world over. That galleries do little to encourage an extended diversity audience-wise was handily expressed by the following: "People who go there are predominantly people who are interested in art anyway." And once in galleries, the cold glances of the staffs were related as a palpable browbeating, "You feel a pressure to look a certain way." In the end, commercial galleries would better serve the public by chipping away at barriers, rather than erecting them higher. "I think the biggest hurdle is to get people to go to the galleries who don't necessarily go to begin with."
Beauty figured as an integral component of art in the minds of many but surprisingly the definition accorded was an expansive interpretation with a wide net cast beyond traditional ideas of what constitutes a pretty picture. Beauty being in the eye of the beholder, an oft-repeated cliché, seemed to indicate an accepting, liberal conception of how subjective taste can be.
Those with a trace of art knowledge, or strong opinions about art were not without artful senses of humor. When asked about whether they had made or bought art, one person remarked "I'm too poor to be a collector and untalented to be an artist". Vocalizing the frequently held incredulity towards art was the following gem: "I could spread myself with peanut butter and play around Washington Square Park and call it art". Not a bad idea for a performance piece, watch out Vito Acconci. On acclaimed Brit bad boy, Damien Hirst: "What he does is interesting for three minutes." One easy step to morph a layman into an artist-"you can turn it into art if you frame it." Lastly, on the prevalence of the internet and computers now ubiquitous in biennials and galleries: "Computers are good for tracking locust infestations in the third world. A computer found a computer for my son when he needed it four years ago." Take that, Whitney Bitstreams.
As far as the recognition of artists ranging from Picasso to Mathew Barney, while there seemed universal awareness of Picasso and Warhol ("He's done wonders for advertising"), there were less than a handful of people who recognized the names of artists like John Currin, Janine Antoni and Cecily Brown. As Barney is perhaps the most acclaimed US artist of his generation, it was not surprising that no more than three people had even a passing acquaintance with his work, given his and his dealer's reluctance to seek wide dissemination of his art and films. As Matthew Barney said in a New York Times Magazine article by Michael Kimmelman, October 10, 1999 entitled The Importance of Matthew Barney: "If a work is shown too many times, something gets stolen from it. You come to it with preconceptions, or you get tired of it. And it's the same with an artist. So I try to protect myself and my work." The result of this protectionist attitude with regard to the artist and his work is that he is not only an enigma but also one that remains unknown to most. The following pithily sums it up: "Uh, I know Barney's the store."
Actually, in spite of mild to medium malaise for ultra contemporary art, there was a shared open-mindedness pertaining to art broadly defined, across a wide spectrum of communities. We are on the threshold of an unparalleled opportunity to expand upon art appreciation and acceptance internationally. Examples in the museum world shed light on how the entrepreneurial sector (i.e. galleries) can seize back the initiative to turn the table on contemporary art phobia. One positive new effort on the landscape is the Guggenheim in the Venetian Hotel in Las Vegas, an initiative that is sure to open more than a few unsuspecting eyes of hotel guests to the merit, and worthiness of looking at newer art. Another undertaking is the Palais des Tokyo in Paris, a fresh, raw, unorthodox museum with the atmosphere and hours of a bar or nightclub but filled with challenging and experimental new art production. If the private galleries follow suit, we could be on the verge of an unbounded rise in contemporary art acceptance and patronage.
There appears to be a marked difference in other countries such as England, and Germany for instance when it comes to recognition and awareness of contemporary artists. The antics of Tracey Emin, Damien Hirst and other members of the still percolating YBA movement have garnered so many headlines over the past decade that knowledge of their art and sometimes behavior have trickled down from the echelons of the art establishment to just about every cab driver. From Emin nearly puking drunk live on TV to Hirst's filleted animals, the fodder of tabloids has culminated in advertising campaigns featuring Emin posing in Viviane Westwood and even peddling booze (a cynical angle that wouldn't float in puritanical America). Hirst's signature vitrines are aped in all sorts of media from political cartoons to insurance adverts. In Germany, though most may disagree with the artistic merit of a pile of fat casually clumped in the corner of a room, the majority recognizes Beuys' output. Further, it is not uncommon to spy one of his unlimited editions in the home of a middle class family with no art contacts. Not since Warhol garnered a Love Boat TV series cameo has an American artist neared that level of notoriety.
Television-wise, in any given year, the measly 5 stations in the UK boast more contemporary arts programming than the past 5 years in the US. There has been countless UK documentaries on artists of all stripes, and many instances where artists have been commissioned to create original segments for TV. This is a phenomenon with virtually no parallel in the US. Here we are treated to episodes of 60 Minutes, "Yes, But is it Art Part I & II" where a busload of kids are stood before a Basquiat painting and queried whether they could do a better job. Critic Robert Hughes had a Public Broadcasting Network special a number of year's back where he expounded upon how initials scratched into a tree was more artistic than contemporary art. He was some prescient choice to helm the curator's post for the upcoming Venice Biennial, shame he withdrew. Of late in the US, there was the monotonous thematic show entitled Egg, which touched on art from time to time and was in turn cancelled, and Art 21, which profiled a group of contemporary artists last year, over the course of four episodes. Though the reported audience remarkably totaled 2 million for the entire broadcast, and more were ordered, the show stuck to an unprogressive, uninspired format that lacked even rudimental entertainment value. Financing has yet to be locked into place to fund a continuation of the series.
During the summer of 2002 a non-scientific survey was conducted featuring on-the-street interviews with in excess of 100 randomly selected individuals in Manhattan neighborhoods from Wall Street to Harlem. The intent was to subjectively gauge general perceptions of the relevance of contemporary art to the everyday lives of a cross-section of people. Questions were posed to take the pulse of how people felt about galleries, museums, technology in art, and notions of beauty, among others. Additionally, when there was some level of familiarity with art and artists among interview subjects, a laundry list was read containing names from Picasso to Matthew Barney to get a glimpse of how well the art world communicates its most talented ranks across societal boundaries.
Gone are the days of Picasso or Abstract Expressionism where an artist or movement held sway in the imagination of the general pubic. Though art was prominent in the minds of many as a personalized inward notion of creativity explored on a regular basis, contemporary art was judged a specialized professional niche more akin to the study of artificial intelligence. In fact, a number of those interviewed sensed the intelligence bandied about in the professional art world to be artificial. Under the guise of art was considered a wide of variety of activities from cutting hair, rap, and architecture, to the way a person walks across the street; that is, everything save for contemporary art itself.
Although a common explanation of the role of art was to reflect emotions and an interpretation of the world the way it is experienced-there was a marked contrast with the fact that no one acknowledged contemporary art's penchant to do this. Could it be a hesitancy to accept the current uncertain state of society or at least to do so through the lens of the present-day artist? "Art is dead" could also relate to the fact that civility is felt to be dead, which is not just endemic to the art world but to society at large. New art has lost its ability to meaningfully communicate to a broad-based audience beyond other art professionals. There was rarely an instance where contemporary art evinced any particular relevance to the daily lives of people not enmeshed in the world of art. Additionally, there was a conviction that contemporary artists and art professionals purposefully obfuscate art and the context within which it is viewed to make it overly erudite and hence more dear.
Aside from a mirroring of present day political and social woes that no one wants to face, a possible rationalization for the disinclination towards new art forms was the consent that they are lacking a traditional sense of skill, technique and human touch involved in the processes. This is especially so in the realms of computer and video art which are seen as not just a short cut, but akin to cheating. Another telling comment was that present art making was viewed as "images of images of images", thus a removal, or distancing of art production from primary experience or traditional notions of beauty and affirmed art subject matter. Though, in contravention to this sentiment, most would be unaware of the derision the lot of Impressionists and Post Impressionists were met with when first exhibiting their paintings versus the universal admiration and blockbuster status they were met with here, where "Target stores have all the Van Gogh prints!"
A backlash to art viewed as shocking, call it The Sensation Syndrome after the Saatchi collection exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum in 1999, was manifest which inured people from being affected by art judged offensive. Today there is a weariness, numbness, and level of familiarity with art meant to affront in the vein of Damien Hirst to the extent that this variety of art is regarded academic, as stated: "Breaking the rules is practically a college course". Also, by pandering to the aesthetics of offensiveness, the only emotions elicited from the general public were that those efforts smacked of juvenilia.
There was a clear skepticism in such comments as contemporary art was an inside joke and "a racket", and not of the Richard Prince variety. The only idea about geometry in art shared by interview subjects was the perception that a line delineates the real world from the art world, describing distinct spheres where there is no crossover only mutual alienation. Characterizations ranging from soulless, to fraud, to being too cerebral-all were geared towards rationalizing a dismissal of new art. This seems to be recognized as the fault of artists from failing to make an effort to connect with the rest of society. As put forth by one: "Artists live in a post modern dreamy dreamy world."
"Now its greed it's just making money, it's become big business like everything else. You buy a name". Art is seen as part of the Prada parade and artists are nothing more then brand names where people buy into trends or fashion whether or not there is a full comprehension of the significance of the artwork at hand. "It's about buying and owning rather than appreciating beauty." This is in contrast to feelings that art is part of the patrimony of the country, something not to be profited from and something at everyone's disposal. "I don't know if the pubic cares anymore. It's kind of sad. It's closed doors." This is surprising in light of the lack of admission to gain entry to galleries, art being the only free lunch in town! However, refreshingly, the majority of participants didn't consider art strictly for the wealthy; rather, what turned people off was the content of the art itself ("New art is like-you know Coors Light") and the environs in which it is observed that was largely responsible for the antagonism and aversion. Galleries and even museums were widely viewed as clinical, sterile, and elitist-all adjectives of intimidation, where there was a shared feeling of antipathy relating to the art going experience: "I don't like it when they follow you around everywhere and they don't want you to touch anything."
Despite the popular appeal of architecture largely wrought by the Guggenheim phenomenon ("I've been to a couple of Guggenheims in Europe") there is a tedium in the sameness of gallery interiors the world over. That galleries do little to encourage an extended diversity audience-wise was handily expressed by the following: "People who go there are predominantly people who are interested in art anyway." And once in galleries, the cold glances of the staffs were related as a palpable browbeating, "You feel a pressure to look a certain way." In the end, commercial galleries would better serve the public by chipping away at barriers, rather than erecting them higher. "I think the biggest hurdle is to get people to go to the galleries who don't necessarily go to begin with."
Beauty figured as an integral component of art in the minds of many but surprisingly the definition accorded was an expansive interpretation with a wide net cast beyond traditional ideas of what constitutes a pretty picture. Beauty being in the eye of the beholder, an oft-repeated cliché, seemed to indicate an accepting, liberal conception of how subjective taste can be.
Those with a trace of art knowledge, or strong opinions about art were not without artful senses of humor. When asked about whether they had made or bought art, one person remarked "I'm too poor to be a collector and untalented to be an artist". Vocalizing the frequently held incredulity towards art was the following gem: "I could spread myself with peanut butter and play around Washington Square Park and call it art". Not a bad idea for a performance piece, watch out Vito Acconci. On acclaimed Brit bad boy, Damien Hirst: "What he does is interesting for three minutes." One easy step to morph a layman into an artist-"you can turn it into art if you frame it." Lastly, on the prevalence of the internet and computers now ubiquitous in biennials and galleries: "Computers are good for tracking locust infestations in the third world. A computer found a computer for my son when he needed it four years ago." Take that, Whitney Bitstreams.
As far as the recognition of artists ranging from Picasso to Mathew Barney, while there seemed universal awareness of Picasso and Warhol ("He's done wonders for advertising"), there were less than a handful of people who recognized the names of artists like John Currin, Janine Antoni and Cecily Brown. As Barney is perhaps the most acclaimed US artist of his generation, it was not surprising that no more than three people had even a passing acquaintance with his work, given his and his dealer's reluctance to seek wide dissemination of his art and films. As Matthew Barney said in a New York Times Magazine article by Michael Kimmelman, October 10, 1999 entitled The Importance of Matthew Barney: "If a work is shown too many times, something gets stolen from it. You come to it with preconceptions, or you get tired of it. And it's the same with an artist. So I try to protect myself and my work." The result of this protectionist attitude with regard to the artist and his work is that he is not only an enigma but also one that remains unknown to most. The following pithily sums it up: "Uh, I know Barney's the store."
Actually, in spite of mild to medium malaise for ultra contemporary art, there was a shared open-mindedness pertaining to art broadly defined, across a wide spectrum of communities. We are on the threshold of an unparalleled opportunity to expand upon art appreciation and acceptance internationally. Examples in the museum world shed light on how the entrepreneurial sector (i.e. galleries) can seize back the initiative to turn the table on contemporary art phobia. One positive new effort on the landscape is the Guggenheim in the Venetian Hotel in Las Vegas, an initiative that is sure to open more than a few unsuspecting eyes of hotel guests to the merit, and worthiness of looking at newer art. Another undertaking is the Palais des Tokyo in Paris, a fresh, raw, unorthodox museum with the atmosphere and hours of a bar or nightclub but filled with challenging and experimental new art production. If the private galleries follow suit, we could be on the verge of an unbounded rise in contemporary art acceptance and patronage.
Thursday, May 16, 2002
ARTinvestor Magazine 5 - 2002
DOWNTICKS: BAD BAD PAINTING
Imagine the worst Howard Hodgkin painting come to life in a horrible nightmare hijacking your very existence: covering walls, floors, utensils, and everything else in sight. Such is the impact of the recent exhibition of Lucas Samaras at PaceWildenstein gallery. According to the press release there were more than 700 discrete pieces that made up this encrusted paint-laden sensory assault with prices ranging from $4,000 for notebook sized paintings on paper to $75,000 for large canvases appropriately entitled "Wounds". The catalogue that accompanied the show was a 27-page poem by the artist, written in the form of a laundry list in a single column of words that proved elucidating to the abortion at hand ("I thought of things evicted from the womb" says the artist). Samaras brazenly boasted that his strokes of paint were "more complex than Pollack's mesh" and in comparing himself to Picasso stated: "his brilliance resides not in his brush mark which is quite pedestrian." "A single sale of recent work would redesign the pain threshold" said Samaras, but viewing the primary colors smeared over paper, canvas, and everyday objects without more artistry or finesse the pain was only ours, and it was far from sporadic. Perhaps an excuse for such lack of imagination in work that smacked of art school tendencies resided in the revealing comment: "Stoli (as in the vodka) opens the door to a pleasant reverie". That was enough to create teetotalers of us all. The unintended comedy continued with Samaras declaring "Other annoyances are awaiting my pluck." He sure wasn't kidding. And, in a scenario one can only imagine as Pace owners descended upon the studio that must have appeared like a nuclear explosion in a toy factory, "The Pace group was discomfited, unwittingly displaying Gucci gears of diplomacy in traction." But the bewilderment at a show weighted down by such an abundance of mediocrity was not lost on Samaras as signs of self-doubt manifested itself but not enough to cause him to prune the overripe fruits of his harvest. "A friend's mother said, why do you do such stuff. Civilians as well as experts can rain on my parade." As was evident from the downpour that was his show, such criticism did not dampen his own enthusiasm for displaying such a mother lode of painted matter. But, Samaras' reasoning for the onslaught was unassailable: "Where will I put all the stuff I've done?"
UPTICKS: GOOD BAD PAINTING
Picasso said anyone can learn to paint but it takes a lifetime to learn to paint like a child. Dubuffet, Twombly, Guston, Basquiat and Baechler all evince a major strand of contemporary painting that captures something of the essence of the bright-eyed exuberance of childhood that at first blush could look likeSwell, crap. Not to say that such vein of painting doesn't have a dark foreboding side to it, rather the formal and compositional elements look as if rendered without connection to standard notions of quality or competence. Twombly blackboard scribbles have sold for 5 - 6 million dollars; Guston's cartoonish hooded characters in the millions; Basquiat's have breached $2 million; and, Baechler has an auction record of $149,000. Somebody is ascribing value to the renderings of these painters that can't seem to paint. A new breed of artistry-impaired artists is emerging and the support is flourishing. Take Chris Johanon for example, who makes drawings, paintings and installations with rudimentary crafted cars, freeways, and buildings that look like the work of an intoxicated Julien Opie. From the mid 90's to now, the 34 year old artist has frequently exhibited in New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles and Chicago in a variety of modest galleries on his way to the Whitney Biennial and Jeffrey Deitch Gallery as his primary dealer. The prices for colored starburst paintings which are actually no more than a series of narrow blobs emanating from a central point on a canvas or board range from $2,000 - $6,000. Johanson's works have a pleasant optical sensibility that is refreshing and optimistic in these tense times we find ourselves in post 9/11.
Thirty-four year old British artist Paul Housley recently had a travelling exhibit throughout various UK institutions and is presently showing at Nylon gallery in London, where he has had two one-person shows to date. Though he is without a New York venue, surely it won't be long. Subject matter ranges form one-eyed cats, to gym bags, planes and portraits all done in a jewel-like fashion (always small in scale in lacquered in finish) that remains enticing and seductive despite the awkwardness of his interpretation, prices range from $1,500 to $5,000. Joe Bradley is a newcomer showing regularly only in Boston at Allston Skirt Gallery for the time being, who despite the rapidity of his touch has a wonderful deftness to his composition. An untitled painting of a mountainside with wisps of green for trees and flashes of blue depicting depth, captures the scene so well and forthrightly you feel a chill though it appears to have been completed between sips of a single coffee. Another painting that proves that less is more, which is not usually associated with this brand of sloppy art making, entitled "Natural Scene", looks like a Monet water lily that accidentally got washed by a cleaning person. The problem when he is less successful is that the paintings look as though they were used to clean his brushes! The prices for Bradley who's paintings are no bigger than 3' x 4' top out at only $1,000 a veritable steal.
Brendan Cass who has showed with Noirhomme in Brussels and in exhibitions in New York is the king of the bad painters: when he hits his mark he is truly on to something and when he misses, the fall is precipitous. Cass uses paint almost like a sculptural element pouring gallons and gallons onto the surface forming almost a relief-like structure in the process. There are shards of recognizable imagery scattered about abstract compositions, the colors have gone from muted to day-glo, and the support from canvas to glass and mirror. Bits of text are often incorporated, but are often indecipherable, the import of which is known only to the artist. Most spot on of late are cityscapes composed of simple block buildings with dabs of paint for windows which have added gravity in light of the tenuous nature these buildings now seem to possess in New York at the moment. Prices of Cass' paintings range from $2,000 to $7,500.
Imagine the worst Howard Hodgkin painting come to life in a horrible nightmare hijacking your very existence: covering walls, floors, utensils, and everything else in sight. Such is the impact of the recent exhibition of Lucas Samaras at PaceWildenstein gallery. According to the press release there were more than 700 discrete pieces that made up this encrusted paint-laden sensory assault with prices ranging from $4,000 for notebook sized paintings on paper to $75,000 for large canvases appropriately entitled "Wounds". The catalogue that accompanied the show was a 27-page poem by the artist, written in the form of a laundry list in a single column of words that proved elucidating to the abortion at hand ("I thought of things evicted from the womb" says the artist). Samaras brazenly boasted that his strokes of paint were "more complex than Pollack's mesh" and in comparing himself to Picasso stated: "his brilliance resides not in his brush mark which is quite pedestrian." "A single sale of recent work would redesign the pain threshold" said Samaras, but viewing the primary colors smeared over paper, canvas, and everyday objects without more artistry or finesse the pain was only ours, and it was far from sporadic. Perhaps an excuse for such lack of imagination in work that smacked of art school tendencies resided in the revealing comment: "Stoli (as in the vodka) opens the door to a pleasant reverie". That was enough to create teetotalers of us all. The unintended comedy continued with Samaras declaring "Other annoyances are awaiting my pluck." He sure wasn't kidding. And, in a scenario one can only imagine as Pace owners descended upon the studio that must have appeared like a nuclear explosion in a toy factory, "The Pace group was discomfited, unwittingly displaying Gucci gears of diplomacy in traction." But the bewilderment at a show weighted down by such an abundance of mediocrity was not lost on Samaras as signs of self-doubt manifested itself but not enough to cause him to prune the overripe fruits of his harvest. "A friend's mother said, why do you do such stuff. Civilians as well as experts can rain on my parade." As was evident from the downpour that was his show, such criticism did not dampen his own enthusiasm for displaying such a mother lode of painted matter. But, Samaras' reasoning for the onslaught was unassailable: "Where will I put all the stuff I've done?"
UPTICKS: GOOD BAD PAINTING
Picasso said anyone can learn to paint but it takes a lifetime to learn to paint like a child. Dubuffet, Twombly, Guston, Basquiat and Baechler all evince a major strand of contemporary painting that captures something of the essence of the bright-eyed exuberance of childhood that at first blush could look likeSwell, crap. Not to say that such vein of painting doesn't have a dark foreboding side to it, rather the formal and compositional elements look as if rendered without connection to standard notions of quality or competence. Twombly blackboard scribbles have sold for 5 - 6 million dollars; Guston's cartoonish hooded characters in the millions; Basquiat's have breached $2 million; and, Baechler has an auction record of $149,000. Somebody is ascribing value to the renderings of these painters that can't seem to paint. A new breed of artistry-impaired artists is emerging and the support is flourishing. Take Chris Johanon for example, who makes drawings, paintings and installations with rudimentary crafted cars, freeways, and buildings that look like the work of an intoxicated Julien Opie. From the mid 90's to now, the 34 year old artist has frequently exhibited in New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles and Chicago in a variety of modest galleries on his way to the Whitney Biennial and Jeffrey Deitch Gallery as his primary dealer. The prices for colored starburst paintings which are actually no more than a series of narrow blobs emanating from a central point on a canvas or board range from $2,000 - $6,000. Johanson's works have a pleasant optical sensibility that is refreshing and optimistic in these tense times we find ourselves in post 9/11.
Thirty-four year old British artist Paul Housley recently had a travelling exhibit throughout various UK institutions and is presently showing at Nylon gallery in London, where he has had two one-person shows to date. Though he is without a New York venue, surely it won't be long. Subject matter ranges form one-eyed cats, to gym bags, planes and portraits all done in a jewel-like fashion (always small in scale in lacquered in finish) that remains enticing and seductive despite the awkwardness of his interpretation, prices range from $1,500 to $5,000. Joe Bradley is a newcomer showing regularly only in Boston at Allston Skirt Gallery for the time being, who despite the rapidity of his touch has a wonderful deftness to his composition. An untitled painting of a mountainside with wisps of green for trees and flashes of blue depicting depth, captures the scene so well and forthrightly you feel a chill though it appears to have been completed between sips of a single coffee. Another painting that proves that less is more, which is not usually associated with this brand of sloppy art making, entitled "Natural Scene", looks like a Monet water lily that accidentally got washed by a cleaning person. The problem when he is less successful is that the paintings look as though they were used to clean his brushes! The prices for Bradley who's paintings are no bigger than 3' x 4' top out at only $1,000 a veritable steal.
Brendan Cass who has showed with Noirhomme in Brussels and in exhibitions in New York is the king of the bad painters: when he hits his mark he is truly on to something and when he misses, the fall is precipitous. Cass uses paint almost like a sculptural element pouring gallons and gallons onto the surface forming almost a relief-like structure in the process. There are shards of recognizable imagery scattered about abstract compositions, the colors have gone from muted to day-glo, and the support from canvas to glass and mirror. Bits of text are often incorporated, but are often indecipherable, the import of which is known only to the artist. Most spot on of late are cityscapes composed of simple block buildings with dabs of paint for windows which have added gravity in light of the tenuous nature these buildings now seem to possess in New York at the moment. Prices of Cass' paintings range from $2,000 to $7,500.
Wednesday, April 10, 2002
ARTinvestor Magazine 4 - 2002
DOWNTICK: NEW YORK
The World Trade Center (WTC) disaster was sad, nauseating and unfathomable. After being brought to our collective knees, New Yorkers walk around with a continual knot in our stomachs wondering what will be next. We are gripped by fear for the futures of our children, and simultaneously are forced to digest information about conflicting reports on asbestos exposure. At the time of this writing, nearly six weeks after the attack our neighborhoods and homes (miles from the WTC) are intermittently overcome by an invisible remainder from the still smoldering site that manifests itself in an acrid, indescribable smell. The odor has caused many people to temporarily or permanently flee the city altogether. One thing is clear, although we are not told so by the local authorities, this scent must be carcinogenic. Experiencing the events of September 11th, for those that survived, was akin to a life threatening mugging; after the initial shock and scare fade, there is the residue of loss of a certain protected sphere of the body and mind. And, if you happen to ask someone directions on the street after being robbed, they jump three feet. That is how we all feel with each and every plane sighted overhead, and every loud noise from the street-this from a city characterized by a cacophony of unruly sounds. By erasing the towers and inducing a state of implausibility and heightened uncertainty, we are all walking around vulnerable beyond naked. Now passenger planes could be guided missiles, and regular mail is a delivery system for deadly anthrax. Maybe we were a bit too smug in our sense of security as the USA was caught sitting on its hands; and then, as Lichtenstein might have put it: POW! Life as we know it will never be the same. Though it is truly impossible to pick up where we left off, what else can we do?
Cynically showing a dark side of humanity akin in spirit but not in levels of destruction as the terrorists, immediately after the event street hawkers sprang into action selling appropriated, re-photographed images of people jumping from the towers to avert the heat, flames and smoke. Also available for sale, both on the street and in one hour photo shops, were pictures of the towers imploding. Additionally, not a bodega exists in the city that does not sport a newly minted postcard rack with glossy mementos of the towers standing tall as they once, almost inconceivably now, did.
Another odd, disquieting phenomenon at the early stages of the art season was the post facto gravity given to art works nothing more than mediocre, due to their fortuitous connection to the WTC attacks. Chief among these cases was Wolfgang Staehle's installation "To the People of Manhattan", later changed to "Untitled" after the attacks at Postmasters Gallery. Staehle hung up his appropriationist art making shenanigans in the early 1990's as he set about creating an arts oriented web discussion group and net services provider called "The Thing". Internet providing must have proved insufficient ego gratification as Staehle decided to allegedly reenter the art making fray again. What is more irksome than the re-contextualization of his work in post WTC terms is his claiming his simulcast in the gallery of lower Manhattan, a TV tower in Berlin and a monastery in Comburg, near Munich, was "a kind of contemporary landscape painting". Couching new media work in the language of painting is a non sequitur that does a disservice to the art of paint and canvas as well as the realm of the video ready-made (see the work of Jeremy Blake, which also fits in this category). The destruction of the towers, viewable as a gaping hole in the New York City skyline on his simulcast only served to render his work a quick fix substitute for CNN, to hold one over on the way home to catch the latest news.
Richard Phillips, at Frederick Petzel Gallery, who once made quirky quilted neo-geo sculptural constructions in the go-go late 1980's shifted to the more market friendly world of photo-realist paintings quite similar in form and content to the 1960's artists that gave the movement it's name. Suspiciously, the change occurred in the belt-tightening, recession plagued early to mid-1990's when, perhaps in a bid to keep up with the Sean Landers' and John Currin's of the world, who were classmates of Phillips at Yale, and had launched zooming painting careers at the time. In this case, a knowing, wink-wink, obviously sarcastic portrait of a smirking George Bush took on the unintended monumentality of depicting a leader at the crossroads of a world historical moment. In the instances of Staehle and Phillips, they clearly had no a priori intent to capitalize on a tragedy, the magnitude of which no one could have foretold; but, the unintended effects served to focus unwarranted spotlights on work that was at best undeserving of the added attention.
back to top
UPTICK: NEW YORK
New Yorkers are a resilient bunch and we will pick up the pieces and create a city even more determined and cohesive than ever before. The art market, after holding its breath for much of September seems to be slowly eking back to more normal levels. In the immediate aftermath of the WTC there was an eerie pause where things came to a grinding halt: there were no visitors to galleries whatsoever, and business came to a standstill. However, feedback from galleries such as Andrew Kreps in Chelsea, a cutting edge venue that represents international emerging artists, shows a heartening rebound in business and an honoring of pre September 11th deals. His first show of the season (mid September to mid October) multi-media artist Hirsohi Sunairi practically sold out with prices in the range of $3,000 - $15,000. The centerpiece of the exhibit, a giant abstracted wooden Buddha with a painted and photo collaged surface, was also the most costly work in the show. It sold just prior to the 11th but the sale was not reneged upon, which is good news from the unproven, more speculative emerging segment of the market. At Luhring Augustine Gallery, Japanese photographer Yosimura Morimura who usually cross- dresses himself into roles in iconic Hollywood films or masterpieces from historic art works, sold remarkably well at levels from$10,000 to $45,000 in editions from 3 to 15. Phenomenally for any time of year, yet almost inconceivable after the most heinous act of terror the world has known to date, the gallery sold in excess of 40 pieces of the artist playing Frida Kahlo in photographs and videos. Though certain collectors expressed sentiments that they were "not in the mood to buy", artists such as Donald Baechler reported fairly brisk sales from his studio in the range of $20,000 to $50,000 for paintings and works on paper. A possible precursor to the upcoming fall auctions was the recent sale held on October 10th at Sotheby's from the estate of Fred Hughes; Andy Warhol's recently-deceased business manager. Though the sale was comprised of mostly decorative doodads from his elaborate brownstone, a classic blue Warhol Jackie portrait in the generic size of 16 x 20 inches which is almost classifiable in the realm of commodity (over 40 are known to exist), fetched a respectable $180,000. At another auction, this one a charity event to benefit the Coalition for the Homeless, anxious bidders snapped up much of the art being offered. Ricci Albenda, an emerging conceptual artist who has a project room opening at the Museum of Modern Art in November, sold an 8 x 10 inch drawing on paper for $1,500 and an Ed Ruscha print in an addition of 100 sold for a healthy $5,600. With these encouraging tidbits of sale information trickling in, perhaps art will be viewed as a safe haven in a shaky economy, in an even shakier world.
The World Trade Center (WTC) disaster was sad, nauseating and unfathomable. After being brought to our collective knees, New Yorkers walk around with a continual knot in our stomachs wondering what will be next. We are gripped by fear for the futures of our children, and simultaneously are forced to digest information about conflicting reports on asbestos exposure. At the time of this writing, nearly six weeks after the attack our neighborhoods and homes (miles from the WTC) are intermittently overcome by an invisible remainder from the still smoldering site that manifests itself in an acrid, indescribable smell. The odor has caused many people to temporarily or permanently flee the city altogether. One thing is clear, although we are not told so by the local authorities, this scent must be carcinogenic. Experiencing the events of September 11th, for those that survived, was akin to a life threatening mugging; after the initial shock and scare fade, there is the residue of loss of a certain protected sphere of the body and mind. And, if you happen to ask someone directions on the street after being robbed, they jump three feet. That is how we all feel with each and every plane sighted overhead, and every loud noise from the street-this from a city characterized by a cacophony of unruly sounds. By erasing the towers and inducing a state of implausibility and heightened uncertainty, we are all walking around vulnerable beyond naked. Now passenger planes could be guided missiles, and regular mail is a delivery system for deadly anthrax. Maybe we were a bit too smug in our sense of security as the USA was caught sitting on its hands; and then, as Lichtenstein might have put it: POW! Life as we know it will never be the same. Though it is truly impossible to pick up where we left off, what else can we do?
Cynically showing a dark side of humanity akin in spirit but not in levels of destruction as the terrorists, immediately after the event street hawkers sprang into action selling appropriated, re-photographed images of people jumping from the towers to avert the heat, flames and smoke. Also available for sale, both on the street and in one hour photo shops, were pictures of the towers imploding. Additionally, not a bodega exists in the city that does not sport a newly minted postcard rack with glossy mementos of the towers standing tall as they once, almost inconceivably now, did.
Another odd, disquieting phenomenon at the early stages of the art season was the post facto gravity given to art works nothing more than mediocre, due to their fortuitous connection to the WTC attacks. Chief among these cases was Wolfgang Staehle's installation "To the People of Manhattan", later changed to "Untitled" after the attacks at Postmasters Gallery. Staehle hung up his appropriationist art making shenanigans in the early 1990's as he set about creating an arts oriented web discussion group and net services provider called "The Thing". Internet providing must have proved insufficient ego gratification as Staehle decided to allegedly reenter the art making fray again. What is more irksome than the re-contextualization of his work in post WTC terms is his claiming his simulcast in the gallery of lower Manhattan, a TV tower in Berlin and a monastery in Comburg, near Munich, was "a kind of contemporary landscape painting". Couching new media work in the language of painting is a non sequitur that does a disservice to the art of paint and canvas as well as the realm of the video ready-made (see the work of Jeremy Blake, which also fits in this category). The destruction of the towers, viewable as a gaping hole in the New York City skyline on his simulcast only served to render his work a quick fix substitute for CNN, to hold one over on the way home to catch the latest news.
Richard Phillips, at Frederick Petzel Gallery, who once made quirky quilted neo-geo sculptural constructions in the go-go late 1980's shifted to the more market friendly world of photo-realist paintings quite similar in form and content to the 1960's artists that gave the movement it's name. Suspiciously, the change occurred in the belt-tightening, recession plagued early to mid-1990's when, perhaps in a bid to keep up with the Sean Landers' and John Currin's of the world, who were classmates of Phillips at Yale, and had launched zooming painting careers at the time. In this case, a knowing, wink-wink, obviously sarcastic portrait of a smirking George Bush took on the unintended monumentality of depicting a leader at the crossroads of a world historical moment. In the instances of Staehle and Phillips, they clearly had no a priori intent to capitalize on a tragedy, the magnitude of which no one could have foretold; but, the unintended effects served to focus unwarranted spotlights on work that was at best undeserving of the added attention.
back to top
UPTICK: NEW YORK
New Yorkers are a resilient bunch and we will pick up the pieces and create a city even more determined and cohesive than ever before. The art market, after holding its breath for much of September seems to be slowly eking back to more normal levels. In the immediate aftermath of the WTC there was an eerie pause where things came to a grinding halt: there were no visitors to galleries whatsoever, and business came to a standstill. However, feedback from galleries such as Andrew Kreps in Chelsea, a cutting edge venue that represents international emerging artists, shows a heartening rebound in business and an honoring of pre September 11th deals. His first show of the season (mid September to mid October) multi-media artist Hirsohi Sunairi practically sold out with prices in the range of $3,000 - $15,000. The centerpiece of the exhibit, a giant abstracted wooden Buddha with a painted and photo collaged surface, was also the most costly work in the show. It sold just prior to the 11th but the sale was not reneged upon, which is good news from the unproven, more speculative emerging segment of the market. At Luhring Augustine Gallery, Japanese photographer Yosimura Morimura who usually cross- dresses himself into roles in iconic Hollywood films or masterpieces from historic art works, sold remarkably well at levels from$10,000 to $45,000 in editions from 3 to 15. Phenomenally for any time of year, yet almost inconceivable after the most heinous act of terror the world has known to date, the gallery sold in excess of 40 pieces of the artist playing Frida Kahlo in photographs and videos. Though certain collectors expressed sentiments that they were "not in the mood to buy", artists such as Donald Baechler reported fairly brisk sales from his studio in the range of $20,000 to $50,000 for paintings and works on paper. A possible precursor to the upcoming fall auctions was the recent sale held on October 10th at Sotheby's from the estate of Fred Hughes; Andy Warhol's recently-deceased business manager. Though the sale was comprised of mostly decorative doodads from his elaborate brownstone, a classic blue Warhol Jackie portrait in the generic size of 16 x 20 inches which is almost classifiable in the realm of commodity (over 40 are known to exist), fetched a respectable $180,000. At another auction, this one a charity event to benefit the Coalition for the Homeless, anxious bidders snapped up much of the art being offered. Ricci Albenda, an emerging conceptual artist who has a project room opening at the Museum of Modern Art in November, sold an 8 x 10 inch drawing on paper for $1,500 and an Ed Ruscha print in an addition of 100 sold for a healthy $5,600. With these encouraging tidbits of sale information trickling in, perhaps art will be viewed as a safe haven in a shaky economy, in an even shakier world.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)