Art on the Sidelines
My colleague Robert Ayers sends this over:
There’s talk among locals here that the beginning of the UEFA Euro 2008 soccer championship in the city tomorrow night (it's hosted by Austria and Switzerland this time around) will be so disruptive that it will be impossible to get in and out of the Messeplatz to visit the fair. One dealer told me that a client had announced that they wouldn’t even be able to come in to collect work that they had already paid for!
Show Me the Money
As Pink Floyd once put it, “Grab that cash with both hands and make a stash.” While dealers and journalists alike were aflutter with talk of the weak dollar and the fluctuating exchange rates, and on and on, it was impossible not to notice that a handful of works in Art Basel handled currency. Or perhaps it was just impossible not to think about it on this rainy day, when a writer and curator in New York wrote to me in an email “enjoy the money fest and the art funeral.” With that in mind, and another thing—“Money and How It Gets that Way,” a rather obscure pamphlet on matters financial that Henry Miller once wrote at the urging of Ezra Pound—I decided that I would defiantly enjoy the money fest, and find out how much the money cost and whether or not it had sold.
My first stop was Art Unlimited, where I found video artist Tony Oursler's room-size installation Untitled Currency, 2008, which involves a very large projection piece that is essentially a talking one hundred dollar bill. Typical of Oursler's approach, it is really only Benjamin Franklin's mouth that is animated, and the sinister-looking Franklin mumbles, among other things, "I beg you not to destroy me." He also sticks out his tongue. Other elements of the piece suggest alternative uses for cash: there's a video of a hand making origami from a one-dollar bill. But the whole installation is made a bit more ominous, and also a good deal more humorous, by a two-part sculpture of a rolled up Washington and a mound of blow, accompanied by an audio of someone sniffing. And, to top things off, there are actual dollar bills pasted willy-nilly to the walls. The whole ensemble is gleefully irreverent, and, not surprisingly, a collector has put it on reserve from Bernier/Eliades, Oursler's gallery in Athens, Greece. For how much? $400,000.
Franklin looks far sunnier, and more sympathetically disposed to his artistic treatment, over in the booth of Magazzino D’Arte Moderna from Rome. Sislej Xhafa has made a carpet—hung on the wall like a painting—out of a hundred-dollar bill. Entitled Kahlen, 2004–08, and in an edition of 2, it too is on reserve, for €36,000.
Downstairs from Magazzino, at Galerie Thaddaeus Ropac, is a 1997 Gilbert & George picture, Spunk Money, depicting the two British artists cavorting in the buff before a blood-red sea of bills of a number of different currencies. It has a rather ludic feel to it, and one wants to dive into the piles of cash. Or one could just own it! Hurry, because it's already on reserve, for €275,000.
Though it would destroy the piece, it would be entirely possible to plunge one's hand into the pile of cash that is Young British Artists Tim Noble and Sue Webster's 2002 mixed media sculpture, Made of Money, at Jeffrey Deitch's booth. Noble and Webster arranged 5-, 10-, 20- and 50-pound notes inside a glass-walled slot machine, such that when a light is projected on it, the resulting silhouette on the wall shows two faces kissing. How sweet! Ahh, for love or money. The piece sold for $350,000. It must have given new meaning to the concept of fabrication cost.
For more on the subject of money and art, see my article on art about the art market from the November 2007 edition of Art+Auction.
On Location
Brad Pitt wasn't the only actor on hand for the fair. Spotted ducking out of a taxicab near the Messeplatz was The Darjeeling Limited star Owen Wilson. Wilson has become something of a regular on the contemporary-art circuit. He was seen at last fall's party for Damien Hirst at New York's Lever House, then at Art Basel Miami Beach in December and now at Art Basel. If you squinted at a paparazzi pic of him in one of the celebrity gossip magazines a few months ago, you could see that the cover of the book he was clutching read "Duchamp." One wonders what the man has been buying.
Art Collectors: The New Lobbyists?
Today I hosted a panel at the Scope Art Fair entitled "The Rise and Rise of Satellite Fairs." It was a good lineup: Scope director Alexis Hubshman, NADA director Heather Hubbs, Pulse director Helen Allen and Volta director Amanda Coulson. As the panel drew to a close, I asked whether there were any questions. There were none from the audience, but Hubbs had one for the other panelists: How did they handle letters from collectors urging them to admit some gallery or another? Despite having written an article on art fair selection politics for the current issue of Art+Auction, this tactic was news to me. Politics indeed! When collectors are acting as lobbyists, how far are art fairs from the machinations of Washington?
Making Waves in Dubai
Art fairs aren't just for selling art; they are also for selling other art fairs. That is, they are not a bad place at which to drum up a bit of publicity. Enter the PR firms. Today the London-based company Brunswick Group hosted a lunch at the stylish Restaurant Fischerstube in order to present a handful of events, including the Italian fair Artissima and Art Dubai. Art Dubai director John Martin, a London dealer, says that fair's 2009 edition will be timed to coincide with the Sharjah Biennial. According to Martin, Sharjah is just a short drive from Dubai—"a half hour on a good day." But he isn't running the risk of traffic slowdowns. Instead he’s arranging for a boat to take biennial-goers to the fair and vice versa. On board, he'll show passengers works of video art. But Martin admitted, with a dash of sheepishness, that the idea wasn't entirely his. Giving credit where credit is due, he conceded that it was the brainchild of Ben Rawlingson Plant of Brunswick.
Art or Babies?
My colleague Robert Ayers sends this over today:
By now, we all know that the swarthy half of Brangelina was here yesterday, raising the pulses of fairgoers and dealers alike. But the celeb did some serious shopping at Design Miami/Basel, where he snatched up two Max Lamb Bronze Poly chairs from New York’s Johnson Trading Gallery; Family Lamp, by Atelier van Lieshout, and a Jeroen Verhoeven Rococo-style hollow-white-marble table from London’s Carpenters Workshop Gallery (the table went for $293,000); and two Ron Arad chairs from New York–based Sebastian + Barquet. He also ordered Silver Sky, an aluminum-thread rug designed by Colombian Jorge Lizarazo and woven in Colombia at the Hechizoo studio, from New York dealer Cristina Grajales. The rug sells for $175 per square foot; no one's quite sure how big of a piece he ordered. Pitt also reportedly showed interest in — though he hasn't yet shelled out any cash, as far as we know — a gold lacquer–coated fiberglass sofa designed by Zaha Hadid, on offer from London's Kenny Schachter for $300,000.
When he wasn't busy furnishing his home, Pitt was apparently turning on the charm for dozens of women. Everybody has their Braderie to share, including one account passed on to me by an artist friend and assigned to Hanna Schouwink, director at David Zwirner: “He held my hand between both of his. He stared into my eyes for a full five minutes. I thought he was meditating.” Cruel wits are suggesting that there’s something of a family rivalry developing here: while the arrival of their own twins means that La Jolie is prevented from buying up babies for the moment, Brad is spending his part of the fortune (precise details of which are no doubt specified down to the last cent in their much-discussed $200 million prenup) on works of art. Art or babies? I know where I’d be throwing my cash. In fact, it had occurred to me to pose Abramovich a similar question — art or soccer players? — when one of his “friends” made it clear by eye contact alone that the tovarich would prefer not to be troubled.
Change of Pace
“Oh, hello,” said PaceWildenstein director Marc Glimcher as a woman walked through his booth. “Who was that?,” I asked. “Maya Lin,” said Glimcher. “She joined the gallery recently.” The artist had been with Gagosian.
Going Against the Grain
Within the first half hour of Art Basel’s VIP preview, Zurich- and London-based gallery Hauser & Wirth sold a number of pieces, including a large Paul McCarthy sculpture for $1.8 million, as well as pieces by Argentine artist Guillermo Kuitca and Indian artist Subodh Gupta. Could it have been the innovative yet classical design of the gallery’s booth? In an art fair where size restrictions threaten to flatten galleries’ presentation into monotony, H&W came up with a smashing alternative by laying down a floor of Belgian oak and putting in a ceiling of lit tiles (recalling the upper level of the gallery’s London space), which spill diffuse light across the booth. The gallery got help from Tom Postma, who has done design work for the fair, but credit may also be due to gallery partner Ivan Wirth, who trained as an architect.
All’s Fair
What better place than an art fair to launch a book about art fairs? Zipping through the aisles of Art Basel was the indefatigable independent curator Paco Barragán, who is promoting his brand new book, The Art Fair Age (published by Charta Books). Glancing at the chapter headings I can say that he has coined a new and amusing term for connoisseurs who, in today’s parlance, buy with their ears and not with their eyes: "Karaoke Collectors." Like many art-worlders, Barragán has his hands in many pies. At the moment he’s starting an art fund for a bank.
Slow Ride
The carousel by Carsten Höller in Esther Schipper’s booth may look like a fun amusement park ride for the youngsters, but, alas, Höller has programmed it such that an excursion around its perimeter takes a full hour. I witnessed one child attempt the fun, only to be sorely disappointed and almost immediately flee. The 2006 piece is €220,000 and has not yet sold. It was last on view at MASS MoCA. Perhaps some adult will scoop it up, but for kids, as Schipper admits, “It’s very boring.”
Walk-Ins Only
Blue-chip New York gallery Acquavella is taking a different approach to the fair this year: that is, they are taking as few reserves as possible. While collectors have gotten into the habit of placing artworks on hold for just a few hours, this phenomenon can create complications for galleries, which often find themselves with several overlapping reserves on the same piece when the floodgates open and the VIPs arrive. So far, it seems that Acquavella’s new strategy has in no way hindered sales. Collectors willing to make decisions on the spot picked up paintings by Peter Doig (Olin MK IV, 1995, for $3.5 million) and Lucian Freud (Girl in Attic Doorway, 1994–95, for $12 million). It’s worth noting that Acquavella, which represents both artists, purchased the Doig, a painting of a skier making a vertiginous jump, at a Phillips de Pury & Company auction, in New York, in May 2006, for $1 million.
Basel Is the Pitts
Today the fair was awash in Brad Pitt sightings. There he was in Gavin Brown’s booth with a man rumored to be his art adviser. Although another source says it was his lawyer. In any event, his companion was overheard informing him that this — Brown’s establishment — was “another hipster New York gallery.” According to one New York art adviser (not Pitt’s), the actor and humanitarian may have bought a small Luc Tuymans at Zeno X Gallery and had been eyeing a Richard Prince and a Rudolf Stingel at Sadie Coles HQ. In Brown’s booth, Pitt found an image of none other than Brad Pitt, depicted in Jonathan Horowitz’s artwork 60 Vegans (200 Celebrity Vegetarians Downloaded From the Internet), 2002, a collection of 200 framed inkjet prints. There was Pitt’s adorable mug, keeping company with former Sex Pistol Johnny Rotten, the Beastie Boys and Michael J. Fox. Who knew he didn’t eat meat? One wonders if he can resist Basel’s wursts.
Sam I Am
What does one do after leaving the vaunted position of Art Basel director? Well, Samuel Keller, who formerly held the post, left to head up the Fondation Beyeler in Basel. (Ernst and Hildy Beyeler, for those who have forgotten, were among the fair’s founding dealers over 30 years ago.) But anyone who ran into him today at the Beyeler’s exquisitely appointed booth might have mistaken him for an artist. Keller was busy drawing a strange series of hieroglyphic-like symbols onto prints by Paris-based artist Philippe Parreno. Parreno’s idea for the project is that the prints have a magical power once Keller has inscribed them. Hm. Keller took a break from scribbling to explain that the booth is outfitted like a museum, and indeed it is divided into two rooms, one of which houses a masterful painting by Mark Rothko, from the foundation’s collection. Rothko, Keller pointed out, dreamt of rooms that would house one painting only. “We thought it was a place where people might enjoy taking a rest and just looking at the painting,” said Keller, as he took a seat on the wooden bench facing the Rothko. But then curator Hans Ulrich Obrist walked in, and Keller, who must be used to being kept on his toes, was on his feet again.
The Little Engine That Could
A train from Zurich to Basel! For VIPs! First Class! The day before art activities in Basel kick off! "Why not?" thought the organizers of the Art Basel satellite fair Scope, who arranged a press conference and brunch at a classy Zurich bar earlier that morning.
Well, while Scope planned for some 60 passengers, only about a third showed up. Nevertheless, director Alexis Hubshman was in good spirits. Between sips from a flute of prosecco, he fielded questions about his seven-year-old art fair — fairs, really, now, since he has them in Basel, Miami, and New York — before leading the ragtag team that had assembled to the train station. Upon our arrival, a white nylon flag with the Scope logo in bright pink was ceremoniously unfurled, signaling the train’s imminent departure. Non-art bystanders giggled. Luckily, a smattering of collectors had showed up by then, including Susan and Michael Hort from New York, and a few other art folks had trickled into the station, including the writer Steven Madoff. Inside, the train was mercifully stocked with bottles of 2004 Rioja sufficient to get an army blotto, though perhaps not quite sufficient to induce the patience needed to endure the train's main event. A troupe of performance artists in varying states of undress paced the car, toting roughly carved wooden dolls on trays. Stopping at seats, they introduced their dolls as Mother Teresa, the Dalai Lama, etc., and asked audience members questions like: "Is there any sense to the atomic bomb" and "Are these questions unpleasant?"
But non-performative conversation on the train was lively; the ride took only an hour, and everyone seemed to have a decent time of it. Once we arrived in Basel, there was a pre-opening tour of Scope (Hubshman says collectors have already been by! And have bought things!).
It's to Hubshman's credit that he shrugged the whole lackluster attendance thing off, even saying he might do it again next year. And thus the whole train experience had the air of a Dadaist experiment about it rather than that of desperation. Come to think of it, Scope itself seems to run on that sort of steam. As Hubshman puts it, "if you squish us down, we'll pop up twice as big.” And should his plans for new editions in Dubai and elsewhere come to fruition, the Scope train will keep right on chugging.
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