UPTICK: THE THREE
Why bother? Many artists toil away day after day in the solitude of their studios not with the intent of creating transcendent objects and to be immortalized by posterity as if in amber, but rather to get some good press and become another famous art star. Social climbing, globetrotting, magazine spreads, drug addled celebrity parties, Gap adverts, music video directing gigs-ah, that's what its about, isn't it? Tracy, Damien, Cecily, Maurizio, need I say more? The Three is an artist's group formed over 10 years ago to perpetrate, uh, perpetuate a neo-dada action by creating art-as-media, who's only creative act is selling signed, stamped certificates (in the time-worn conceptualist manner) of press coverage of the group. The Three are professional fashion models, models that are basically famous for being born attractive, and well, famous, who dress in austere Calvin Kleinesque minimalist attire of monochromatic white or black t-shirts, jackets and jeans. Is it a radical post-consumer art gesture or another con a la Enron?
As a comment on the tribe of artists and critics in the 00's (prescient in the early 90's before the thrust of the rise of mainstream media attention paid to fine artists) a nerve has definitely been tweaked in the referencing of media obsession. There is already Frida and Diego cologne, rock star curators and critics who fill their columns with self- canonization rather than explications of the art and artists they are paid to critique. Why not hang the articles on the walls and sell them as art for hundreds, and thousands, especially in light of the laughable crumbs magazine critics are paid anyway (trust me on that). Make celebrities of us all. Besides, painting, sculpture, and video are all so trite and conventional. Nowadays, artists employ press agents like studio assistants, its part and parcel of the big picture. Bypass the rank, manual-labor imbued (even fabricated work has to be made by someone), piddling middle-man that is art itself, and get right to the crux of it-the publicity. And in fact, selling promotion is exactly what The Three did in their last show at the Percy Miller Gallery in London in January 2002, briskly for $500 a pop. The Three will attempt to repeat that success for assuredly more money than the last go-round in an outing at the Jeffrey Deitch Gallery in May/June 2003 in New York City.
DOWNTICK: THE THREE
The venerable raconteur and art journalist about town for London's Art Newspaper Adrian Dannatt is the inventor of the conceptual hoax that is The Three. Articles have made light of this fact and outted Dannatt as the culprit behind the trio, such as critic Barry Schwabsky in Artforum, but more often than not The Three has been analyzed as a stand alone entity, most notably Anthony Haden-Guest's treatment in the now defunct Talk Magazine. Though fooling nonplussed Haden-Guest shouldn't be viewed as a barometer of persuasiveness. But this is beside the point. We are well passed the age of equating the hand of the artist, or the minds of 3 artists with conferring legitimacy on a work of art. The rule of thumb to judge this enterprise should be solely: is it good art? The answer is yes and no. In a society and world of art where media saturation is equated with profundity and success, column inches can be seen as the equivalent of penis size. In this regard, Dannatt's The Three is squarely on point as self-parody and indictment of our present wayward ways. Yet, there is a degree of pat conceit and sanctimoniousness in swearing off the act of creating art product and then selling articles with "stamped, dated, and signed certificates" the value of which is akin to a decoder ring buried in the bottom of a children's cereal box.
The rhetoric that "we do not create anything ourselves other than interest" rings hollow when The Three offers up the Model T-like novelty of a signed, stamped and dated certificate. Why bother! Could it be that the ill-paid art journalist within wants it both ways-to send up the art world and to be conferred with the money and status (and dare I say fame) so woefully denied one on the short end of the art stick? Doesn't critic-artist(s) stink like actor-politician (Streisand, Penn, Baldwin)? Also, the idea of the collective emanating from fashion may have been a conceptual innovation in the early 90's supermodel heyday, but to revive this by picking 3 new models is a tad formulaic and insipid. Dannatt stated: "I styled them in simple black or white t-shirts and jeans which many years later became the Gap look." Cassandra has peeled away more layers of our foolhardy hypocrisy and become a trend-spotter in the process. Fashion and models signify morphing cultural allusions today without the same import as they once might have enjoyed. Though the idea of The Three popping up from beyond the insular art establishment resonates with the fact that art schools are unessential to endow ability, despite the commercial galleries' bear hugs to graduates of the most favored institutions. Would it not have made more sense to pluck the three from obscurity in the reality TV show vein to make it more pertinent to our time? In the end, this alleged media-about-media is indistinguishable from art-about-art, a wink, wink insiders game. But, to paraphrase The Three, there is no bad press, it all makes for good art (to sell); so no matter, it's all stock in trade.
Saturday, May 3, 2003
Wednesday, April 2, 2003
ART REPORT (ART& AUCTION Magazine, April 2003)
Does your portfolio have the right balance of mutual funds, real estate investment trusts (REIT's) and art funds? It should, says Michael Moses at NYU’s Stern School of Business, who with professor Jainping Mei created the Mei/Moses Fine Art Index (www.meimosesfineartindex.org). Although outwardly characterizing art as an investment vehicle is a no-no in the art world, it is only a matter of time before such art-based funds become commonplace according to Moses. Along with publishing papers with titles such as "Art as an Investment and the Underperformance of Masterpieces" and "Art, Wars and Recessions," the maverick academics have created a series of indexes tracking key categories of art (American, Impressionism and Old Masters) against the Treasuries and the S&P 500.
Previously, they found that fine art trailed the S&P 500 over the long haul, though barely. That is not the case any longer. Their latest, yet-to-be-published study shows that the art market has outperformed the stock market for the last 40 years, and dramatically outpaced it over the last five years, when art brought an average 12.9 percent return, and stock, zilch. Plus, the duo concludes, collecting art offers more by way of glamour than piling up stocks and bonds. In the words of Moses (Mike, that is), "Art may serve to humanize the barbarians, but the barbarians will never admit to its investment value since that would negate its non-barbarian status." Translation: art for art’s sake is a surprisingly good investment.
As if touting art works as an investment wasn’t seditious enough; the findings of Mei/Moses are even more eye-popping and contradictory to previous beliefs. Namely, that masterpieces under-perform the market, as opposed to typical art dealer advice to buy the very best (i.e. most expensive) artworks a client can afford. Mei/Moses determined that it was not clear that the highest quality art has the highest financial returns. Another finding of note is that the art market does not correlate to the stock market (but probably does mirror the real estate market to an extent) and is not as volatile as previously thought—thus the key benefit of art can be for purposes of diversification.
Strangely enough, Moses comes to this economically reductive way of analyzing art through the traditional transcendental notion that art can change a person’s outlook of the world, and that certain images stay with the viewer for life. But, before you log on to the Art Index to gauge the future performance of your budding art portfolio, Mei/Moses are not quite ready to prophesize the next (inevitable?) downturn, not yet, anyway!
An interesting historical note on the art and investment front was the case of the British Railways Pension Fund which undertook an unorthodox foray into the art market in the mid-1970’s. In an effort to combat high inflation, a faltering London Stock Market, weak property levels and a high dollar, the Railways Pension Fund invested in art and other collectibles seeking portfolio diversification, long-term captial appreciation, and profits. To consider such a scenario today for what is essentially a public trust seems unthinkable. Yet the fund which invested in Old Masters, Impressionist, Chinese, and European art (and antiquities) did remarkably well over the course of a twenty year period. The initial cash outlay of 40 million pounds reached 168 million by the end of the project in the late 90’s, which equaled an 11.3% cash rate of return or 4.0% per year above the movement of the Retail Price Index. Strangely, in 1999 after the successful run of the Railway Pension Fund’s experience with art, it was determined to invest in other vehicles such as equities rather than re-invest in art. Looking back a couple of years later from hindsight, British Railways would be wise to dip back into the art market and get back on track!
Previously, they found that fine art trailed the S&P 500 over the long haul, though barely. That is not the case any longer. Their latest, yet-to-be-published study shows that the art market has outperformed the stock market for the last 40 years, and dramatically outpaced it over the last five years, when art brought an average 12.9 percent return, and stock, zilch. Plus, the duo concludes, collecting art offers more by way of glamour than piling up stocks and bonds. In the words of Moses (Mike, that is), "Art may serve to humanize the barbarians, but the barbarians will never admit to its investment value since that would negate its non-barbarian status." Translation: art for art’s sake is a surprisingly good investment.
As if touting art works as an investment wasn’t seditious enough; the findings of Mei/Moses are even more eye-popping and contradictory to previous beliefs. Namely, that masterpieces under-perform the market, as opposed to typical art dealer advice to buy the very best (i.e. most expensive) artworks a client can afford. Mei/Moses determined that it was not clear that the highest quality art has the highest financial returns. Another finding of note is that the art market does not correlate to the stock market (but probably does mirror the real estate market to an extent) and is not as volatile as previously thought—thus the key benefit of art can be for purposes of diversification.
Strangely enough, Moses comes to this economically reductive way of analyzing art through the traditional transcendental notion that art can change a person’s outlook of the world, and that certain images stay with the viewer for life. But, before you log on to the Art Index to gauge the future performance of your budding art portfolio, Mei/Moses are not quite ready to prophesize the next (inevitable?) downturn, not yet, anyway!
An interesting historical note on the art and investment front was the case of the British Railways Pension Fund which undertook an unorthodox foray into the art market in the mid-1970’s. In an effort to combat high inflation, a faltering London Stock Market, weak property levels and a high dollar, the Railways Pension Fund invested in art and other collectibles seeking portfolio diversification, long-term captial appreciation, and profits. To consider such a scenario today for what is essentially a public trust seems unthinkable. Yet the fund which invested in Old Masters, Impressionist, Chinese, and European art (and antiquities) did remarkably well over the course of a twenty year period. The initial cash outlay of 40 million pounds reached 168 million by the end of the project in the late 90’s, which equaled an 11.3% cash rate of return or 4.0% per year above the movement of the Retail Price Index. Strangely, in 1999 after the successful run of the Railway Pension Fund’s experience with art, it was determined to invest in other vehicles such as equities rather than re-invest in art. Looking back a couple of years later from hindsight, British Railways would be wise to dip back into the art market and get back on track!
Monday, March 31, 2003
INTERVIEW (conTEMPorary MISSION STATEMENT) - ICON MAGAZINE, Lisbon, Portugal, 2003
Why initiate the conTEMPorary exhibition space, which runs counter to your past transient curatorial credentials?
The last thing I ever envisioned was opening a gallery. It was the last thing I ever wanted to do. However, I felt compelled to create a conceptual counterpart to the numbing monotony of exhibition venues. Building a space is probably a once in a lifetime opportunity for most, however more often than not the same designs by the same designers are all too familiar. The most glaring example in Chelsea is Luhring Augustine and Andrea Rosen galleries that shared an architect who is largely responsible for the sterile environment that pervades the district and simply built a wall to divide the uniform space into two. The conscious surrendering of the opportunity for making two distinctive galleries is remarkable.
With the rise of modern art, galleries changed from a salon setting to stark white walls in an effort to achieve neutrality and perhaps confer legitimacy to the nascent world of new art. The model prior to the white cube was the interior of a wealthy patron's living room. However, gallery interiors became weighted down and loaded with a whole new set of preexisting meanings that were anything but neutral. The aim of conTEMPorary was to stand the conventional notion of displaying art on its head and to create a fluid, morphing space in which to exhibit art. The idea was to radicalize the interior to open a dialogue about how venues can function now and in the future.
What is the idea behind mixing fashion, architecture, music and dance along with more conventional content of art spaces such as painting, sculpture, and video?
With regard to the program, the intent was also to move away from the convention of exclusively representing a small stable of artists and guarding the exposure of those few as though they were protected species. Without a fixed group of artists to represent, the programming of the gallery can remain as nimble and changeable as the gallery walls (which adjust according to showing requirements). Lip- service is always being paid to broadening the spectrum of what is shown within contemporary art galleries, though we live in a world strictly defined by niche specialization. Rarely do venues or audiences hazard beyond parameters having to do with content, though much is said about cross-pollinating with other art forms in the contemporary art world. It is the mission of conTEMPorary to work with architects, fashion designers, dance groups, musicians and others to experiment in an eclectic showing space. In the process, new audiences are exposed to art forms they would not ordinarily witness. Artists will benefit as well as gallery-goers from interacting with unexpected pairings in the arts
Why did you choose to work with Vito Acconci in the role of architect rather than artist?
I have always admired the work of Vito Acconci due to his utilitarian, non-conformist, chameleon manner in his approach to art and architecture. I use the word chameleon to describe the ever changing body of work pursued by Acconci from early body based photo and video pieces to installation, sculpture, outdoor art and presently architecture. In fact, at present, Acconci has eschewed art production altogether largely due to the exclusionary limited reach of the fine art world. Acconci has never paid heed to the art market, a driving force that obsesses so many artists today, and has always sought to address challenging conceptual issues usually at the expense of materialistic needs. When a renegade comes upon a field from outside the entrenched establishment he/she is usually met with scorn, as is the case with Acconci and his decade old studio, and similarly, such is the response I have met while curating, making art, writing, and dealing. The art world, like the architecture world, closes ranks and tries to erect barriers to those whose only intent is to create unique approaches. With his art background and deviant approach to architecture, Acconci was the ideal person sympathetic to the concerns of an unorthodox gallery. ConTEMPorary was Acconci's first private commission and first built interior.
What is your general approach to curating in the past and at present?
For me curating is an art form similar in nature to painting, sculpture, video, and installation. It is a form of installation comprised of pairing disparate artists, while giving room for the individual participants and artworks to exist independently of the group. For me the key is to bring artists and artworks to the fore that would not otherwise gain a foothold into the system, and to establish complimentary relations between different works. Also, an abiding interest is to bring to light work bypassed, forgotten or underrated by general consensus. Some artists approach their art making process oblivious to new art being made, while others find it exhilarating to actively support the art of their time. I am inextricably drawn to exhibit and promote artists as part and parcel of my own art doings.
What role do art fairs, such as the upcoming Armory in which you will participate, play in your efforts?
Art fairs in general are strictly commercial matters and the Armory is no different. I find them generally disheartening and practically depressing as a means to see and purchase art. For me, fairs are not to view art but to view collectors! As a small purposefully marginal enterprise, I am not exposed to the usual group of collectors that lend support to galleries on a regular basis. As a result, I have no recourse but to participate in order to expose the artists I work with at any given time and the gallery itself. In an attempt to differentiate myself from the pack of purely commercially minded participants, Vito Acconci will design my booth in an attempt to undermine the normative quality of such affairs.
The last thing I ever envisioned was opening a gallery. It was the last thing I ever wanted to do. However, I felt compelled to create a conceptual counterpart to the numbing monotony of exhibition venues. Building a space is probably a once in a lifetime opportunity for most, however more often than not the same designs by the same designers are all too familiar. The most glaring example in Chelsea is Luhring Augustine and Andrea Rosen galleries that shared an architect who is largely responsible for the sterile environment that pervades the district and simply built a wall to divide the uniform space into two. The conscious surrendering of the opportunity for making two distinctive galleries is remarkable.
With the rise of modern art, galleries changed from a salon setting to stark white walls in an effort to achieve neutrality and perhaps confer legitimacy to the nascent world of new art. The model prior to the white cube was the interior of a wealthy patron's living room. However, gallery interiors became weighted down and loaded with a whole new set of preexisting meanings that were anything but neutral. The aim of conTEMPorary was to stand the conventional notion of displaying art on its head and to create a fluid, morphing space in which to exhibit art. The idea was to radicalize the interior to open a dialogue about how venues can function now and in the future.
What is the idea behind mixing fashion, architecture, music and dance along with more conventional content of art spaces such as painting, sculpture, and video?
With regard to the program, the intent was also to move away from the convention of exclusively representing a small stable of artists and guarding the exposure of those few as though they were protected species. Without a fixed group of artists to represent, the programming of the gallery can remain as nimble and changeable as the gallery walls (which adjust according to showing requirements). Lip- service is always being paid to broadening the spectrum of what is shown within contemporary art galleries, though we live in a world strictly defined by niche specialization. Rarely do venues or audiences hazard beyond parameters having to do with content, though much is said about cross-pollinating with other art forms in the contemporary art world. It is the mission of conTEMPorary to work with architects, fashion designers, dance groups, musicians and others to experiment in an eclectic showing space. In the process, new audiences are exposed to art forms they would not ordinarily witness. Artists will benefit as well as gallery-goers from interacting with unexpected pairings in the arts
Why did you choose to work with Vito Acconci in the role of architect rather than artist?
I have always admired the work of Vito Acconci due to his utilitarian, non-conformist, chameleon manner in his approach to art and architecture. I use the word chameleon to describe the ever changing body of work pursued by Acconci from early body based photo and video pieces to installation, sculpture, outdoor art and presently architecture. In fact, at present, Acconci has eschewed art production altogether largely due to the exclusionary limited reach of the fine art world. Acconci has never paid heed to the art market, a driving force that obsesses so many artists today, and has always sought to address challenging conceptual issues usually at the expense of materialistic needs. When a renegade comes upon a field from outside the entrenched establishment he/she is usually met with scorn, as is the case with Acconci and his decade old studio, and similarly, such is the response I have met while curating, making art, writing, and dealing. The art world, like the architecture world, closes ranks and tries to erect barriers to those whose only intent is to create unique approaches. With his art background and deviant approach to architecture, Acconci was the ideal person sympathetic to the concerns of an unorthodox gallery. ConTEMPorary was Acconci's first private commission and first built interior.
What is your general approach to curating in the past and at present?
For me curating is an art form similar in nature to painting, sculpture, video, and installation. It is a form of installation comprised of pairing disparate artists, while giving room for the individual participants and artworks to exist independently of the group. For me the key is to bring artists and artworks to the fore that would not otherwise gain a foothold into the system, and to establish complimentary relations between different works. Also, an abiding interest is to bring to light work bypassed, forgotten or underrated by general consensus. Some artists approach their art making process oblivious to new art being made, while others find it exhilarating to actively support the art of their time. I am inextricably drawn to exhibit and promote artists as part and parcel of my own art doings.
What role do art fairs, such as the upcoming Armory in which you will participate, play in your efforts?
Art fairs in general are strictly commercial matters and the Armory is no different. I find them generally disheartening and practically depressing as a means to see and purchase art. For me, fairs are not to view art but to view collectors! As a small purposefully marginal enterprise, I am not exposed to the usual group of collectors that lend support to galleries on a regular basis. As a result, I have no recourse but to participate in order to expose the artists I work with at any given time and the gallery itself. In an attempt to differentiate myself from the pack of purely commercially minded participants, Vito Acconci will design my booth in an attempt to undermine the normative quality of such affairs.
Thursday, January 23, 2003
The Relationship between Making Art and Curating:
Monkey in the Middle
Making art and curating are clearly distinct practices within the rubric of fine art, however there are undeniably areas where they coincide. Concededly, both are very subjective in nature so I do not profess to possess universal truths in this regard! Various stages in the development of a group exhibition are akin to the creative process when devising a body of artwork: namely, naming a show; and in addition, fashioning associative printed matter, i.e. invitation imagery, posters, advertisements, etc. In a sense, in the instances when I produce a picture to introduce and promote an exhibit I consider it part and parcel of my art and on occasion display it as a stand-alone piece (or series). However, the separation is unambiguous and a strong effort must be made to keep such distance evident. Curating by definition entails an art form in and of itself, which at its core necessitates a sensitivity and sensibility for relating to the art of others-the process of selecting artists and art and the finesse in displaying the pieces in relation to each other and the space. It is problematic if making art and curating are seen as one and the same as this would evince an usurping of the autonomy of the individual art and artists in the name of the supposed omnipotent impresario. Not that I haven't felt a proprietary sense of authorship in the organic structure that takes shape when an exhibit goes from conception to fruition. Conversely, the conundrum is the tendency of the professional artworld to look askance at a curator who conceives their practice too artfully: many are loath to acknowledge that one may combine activities and still be taken seriously in both (or, for that matter, in either).
Making art and curating are clearly distinct practices within the rubric of fine art, however there are undeniably areas where they coincide. Concededly, both are very subjective in nature so I do not profess to possess universal truths in this regard! Various stages in the development of a group exhibition are akin to the creative process when devising a body of artwork: namely, naming a show; and in addition, fashioning associative printed matter, i.e. invitation imagery, posters, advertisements, etc. In a sense, in the instances when I produce a picture to introduce and promote an exhibit I consider it part and parcel of my art and on occasion display it as a stand-alone piece (or series). However, the separation is unambiguous and a strong effort must be made to keep such distance evident. Curating by definition entails an art form in and of itself, which at its core necessitates a sensitivity and sensibility for relating to the art of others-the process of selecting artists and art and the finesse in displaying the pieces in relation to each other and the space. It is problematic if making art and curating are seen as one and the same as this would evince an usurping of the autonomy of the individual art and artists in the name of the supposed omnipotent impresario. Not that I haven't felt a proprietary sense of authorship in the organic structure that takes shape when an exhibit goes from conception to fruition. Conversely, the conundrum is the tendency of the professional artworld to look askance at a curator who conceives their practice too artfully: many are loath to acknowledge that one may combine activities and still be taken seriously in both (or, for that matter, in either).
Monday, December 16, 2002
Contemporary Curatorial Practice panel at Yerba Buena (San Francisco) - 2002
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.
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.
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.
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