Showing posts with label Art World. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Art World. Show all posts

Monday, March 24, 2014

Thanks for saying so outloud Steven Zevitas.

My people.  Christian Butler measuring our gallery at Left and Danette Montoya working some audio at Right.  We do it because we love the artists and their work.
I may be small potatoes in the art world, but I've been thinking about the problem of the art-market often, I talk about it with people as soon as it seems they're listening, and I don't want to shut up about it.  It is a relief to read this message from art dealer,  Steven Zevitas.  I love art.  I love making art, talking about art, looking at art, thinking about art...  I want art to be the hallowed cultural definer that it can be - and I want it to be healthy and strong.  Below, the whole message as it was sent to me. If anything, skim through to the last third and read the messages to Artists, Art Critics, Museums, Art Magazines, Dealers, etc.

THE THINGS WE THINK AND DO NOT SAY, 
OR WHY THE ART WORLD IS IN TROUBLE

Steven Zevitas
02/28/2014

I had a Jerry Maguire moment last night. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to write. The following thoughts are a bit of a ramble - a sketch really - and I leave it to others to expand on the dialogue. If I had a business manager, I'd probably be told that for someone who makes part of their living as an art dealer, putting these words "out there" is not a particularly bright move. If I had a boss, he might fire me. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, I don't have either.

If you were to walk through the aisles of any one of the dozens of art fairs that now take place globally on an almost weekly basis, you would get the sense that the art world is a happier place than Disney World. Big art, big artists, big dealers and big money play their roles in a hypnotic and well-rehearsed production, and toothy smiles abound. Yet this intoxicating spectacle is just the most public manifestation of a problem in the art world that has become increasingly obvious over the past decade: more and more, the cart is pulling the horse.

The horse in question is, of course, aesthetic production and the individuals and institutions that assiduously guard its sanctity. The cart is, at least on the surface, money - and lots of it. Or is it? After all, money does not have motivation or intent, people do. I would  argue that the cart is actually the insidious forces that have, over several decades, narrowed the gap between art and financial instruments, and in doing so have forced art to submit to criteria once reserved for commodities. Money is simply the scapegoat for a problem that is pervasive and systemic.

There was a time when art critics, art historians and curators held substantial sway as to what constituted significant contemporary art. They rode the horse, and collectors and art dealers happily went along for the ride. These days, curators are too often hamstrung by the demands of museum directors who are focused on attendance figures, and board members, who can have very real (non-aesthetic) interests in seeing that certain exhibitions take place. Critics have suffered an even worse fate. Those that are left have been neutered, and can seem more like public relations specialists than critical thinkers. Even the most influential, such as Roberta Smith and Jerry Saltz - both tremendous art critics - can barely move the consensus needle these days. The last time I saw that magic Greenbergian trick successfully performed is when Saltz's 2002 review of a show by Dana Schutz, it can be said, genuinely influenced an artist's rapid ascendency. That was twelve years ago.

"Consensus" may be the most important word in the art world today. Because of the patent impossibility of objectivity in the judgment of art, the notion of consensus has slipped into the vacuum. Nature may abhor a vacuum, but apparently the art world does even more. So much so, in fact, that the word "consensus" has come to be all but synonymous with another art-world favorite, "quality." Their combined weight, piled on layers of subjectivity, has, over time, exerted enough pressure to create a very strange substance: virtual objectivity. You can't see the stuff, but like theoretical dark matter, all evidence suggests that it is there, and that it accounts for a lot of the contemporary art world's mass. It is the substance that turns young artists into overnight superstars, dealers into mega-dealers, and collectors into tastemakers. It keeps the cart in front of the horse and it drives the art market. Unfortunately, it is highly unstable.

The art world and the art market are not the same thing, even though the general-interest press now, tellingly, uses the terms interchangeably. The latter should be subject to the former, but somewhere along the way there was a coup. When the public now thinks about the art world - if they think about the art world at all - the first thing that will likely come to mind is the unfathomable sums of money spent for a painting at the latest auction. I don't think there is any way to overstate the exclusion that this narrative creates.  It moves art closer to commodity status in the collective consciousness, and in doing so, effectively tells the 99% that there is no point in thinking about the art world, or art itself for that matter. The message is clear: If art equals money, and you are not wealthy, then art is not for you.

None of this is to say that the art market is a bad thing. The dealers, collectors, auction houses and other players in the market all perform functions that are necessary if artists are to have a fair shot at making a living from their work. But the way the market is now structured is problematic. The top end is not the problem. The fact that the super-wealthy spend fortunes on works by artists such as Gerhard Richter and Andy Warhol is not particularly disturbing, as those artists are firmly ensconced in the art-historical canon. When it comes to artists like Jeff Koons and Damien Hirst, well, all I can say is, Good luck with that. The trouble really starts with the prices being paid for works by mid-career artists such as Christopher Wool and Richard Prince, and, of greater concern and with more frequency, for the work of emerging artists.

I am all about artists making money, but when a small group of mostly young white male artists such as Joe Bradley, Jacob Kassay, Lucien Smith and Oscar Murillo start to sell work for six-digit amounts, it should raise a lot of red flags. (And I am in no way making critical judgments about these artists and their work - Joe Bradley, for one, may very well turn out to be a generational talent.) The age of the "ism" is over and in its place we have the age of instant "consensus" and the other big art world C word, "context." Right now the "consensus" is that serious art involves raw canvas, a smattering of paint, possibly an exposed stretcher bar, and a "who the fuck cares if it looks done" attitude - some of this work is quite good, by the way. The "context" that this work is presented in is the hippest galleries and art fairs in the world. And collectors who do more listening than looking are lapping it up in large amounts and at absurd prices.

Expressed in the parlance of finance, all of these artists are trading at multiples that, if applied to a publicly traded company such as Google, would make the price of that stock more than $10,000 a share. When someone purchases a Lucien Smith painting for $150,000, they are effectively saying that they feel this asset has such potential for future growth that it warrants such a present price. (For finance geeks, it is a bet that this asset will generate enough future cash flows at a given discount rate to make the asset's net present value a positive number.) All of this sounds very sophisticated, but at the end of the day, and in common English, the only justification for paying such money for emerging artists is speculative. And we all know what happens to a market when too many speculators get involved.

Careless dealers are partly to blame. Auction houses, which can quickly establish a secondary market for an emerging artist, are more to blame. If there is one certainty demonstrated by modern economic history, it is that all things are cyclical. In the end, the music will stop, and when it does, chairs will be scarce. The results will be a decrease in art fairs, gallery closings, and, unfortunately, a lot of artists with ruined careers and no place to exhibit their work. Some, like that wise sage Paul Clemenza, would say:

        "These things gotta happen every five years or so, ten years. Helps to get rid of the bad blood. Been ten years since the last one. You know, you gotta stop them at the beginning. Like they should have stopped Hitler at Munich, they should never let him get away with that, they was just asking for trouble.

Maybe they do. But certainly the severity of such a crisis could be reduced if the art world's internal structure were in better shape.

I think that art constitutes the single most important output of a given culture at any point in time and, therefore, that collecting art is a deadly serious enterprise. These days, collecting has become a form of entertainment and a competitive blood sport, where the quest for access has replaced the desire for aesthetic, intellectual, emotional, and spiritual nourishment. And so, naturally, the things that are the hardest to access have become the most valued (there is the old horse being pulled along again). In my life as a dealer, I am lucky to have worked with a number of collectors who are passionate about art and who dedicate a large quotient of their typically busy lives to it. Then, there is the new breed that all dealers are now more than familiar with. If you are at an art fair, they are easy to identify, because they spend more time examining resumes than looking at art. They also tend to herd together and gravitate toward the same things, which has resulted in a shocking number of private collections that are virtually interchangeable. Let me put it simply: Going to an art fair or gallery and spending a lot of money on the latest "hot" artist is not collecting, it is trophy hunting. When the art world slows down, these individuals will be the first to jump ship, as their motivations for interacting with art in the first place will have evaporated with the value of their art portfolios.

So, how do we fix the mess? Needless to say, this is a complex question. The best I can do is offer counsel directed to some of the art world's key stakeholders:

To artists I say: Keep making art and make it because you have a deep NEED to, not because you WANT to. Follow your own unique visions and not current consensus. You are the bedrock.

To auction houses I say: Cut the bullshit. You are not art dealers, and all the glossy sale catalogues and preview exhibitions in the world will never change that. Refuse to auction works by artists who have emerged from the studio less than three years ago. The few shekels that this reckless practice puts toward your bottom line are far outweighed by the instability you create in the art market.

To art magazines I say: No one cares about another analysis of Jeff Koons or Damien Hirst, except for the two dozen people on the planet who actively trade in their work. Expand your editorial coverage beyond the same forty-or-so preapproved "art stars." Allow exhibition reviewers to take stances that might be in conflict with the interests of your advertising department. And editors, encourage your writers to communicate in a language that can be understood by more than the few who are fluent in artspeak. My favorite section of Artforum has always been the ads, and my guess is that I am not alone.

To museums I say: Expand your boards to include a wider demographic. Wealth and the ability to fundraise should not be the primary determinant of board eligibility. I understand that a stable financial house is essential to museums, but when stability necessitates an oligarchy you have a big problem, and should begin to question the viability of the institution.

To art collectors I say: Think for yourselves. Art collecting is a personal journey, not a social exercise. There is no such thing as a bad acquisition, if the motives and desires that lead to it are genuine. Support your local art communities, as there is likely a lot going on that is worthy of your support.

To art dealers - including myself - I say: Work with artists you believe in, and do the shows you want to do. Refuse to do business with anyone whose motives are even remotely speculative. Spend as much time educating as you do trying to sell. Always remember that it is artists first, everyone else second. Because the silver paintings are selling well, don't ask your artist to make more.

And to the art world I say. . . . You had me at hello.

New American Paintings magazine is a juried exhibition-in-print, and the largest series of artist competitions in the United States. Working with experienced  curators, New American Paintings reviews the work of thousands of emerging artists each year. Forty artists are selected to appear in each bi-monthly edition, many of whom go on to receive substantial critical and commercial success. Additional content focuses on the medium of painting, those who influence its direction, and the role contemporary painting plays within the art world. Visit New American Paintings for more information. Steven Zevitas Publisher, New American Paintings

Saturday, August 24, 2013

I don't know what Art is.

I'm at home sick today so maybe that will explain my wild statement about not knowing what Art is in the subject line.  Or, maybe this is just an expression of Zen knowing and not knowing and I'm about to unleash some real higher thinking right now.

Unlikely.

I bring this up because I just read in the September 2013 of The Atlantic, Out is the New In : Why outsider art - dirty, brutish, and raw - is all the rage by Sarah Boxer.  From what I gather, in my experience as an artist and with running GroundSwell Gallery, the tendency with most artists is to do what they believe is their "art" and it's usually noticeable when the spark of authenticity is not there.  I'd say that meeting the artist and talking with him or her about the art is usually a good test to find out if this is really Art or not.  Sometimes I do come across folks who are making what I would consider to be decoration or very creative design projects.  Sometimes it seems an artist could dive more deeply into his or her art-making but is distracted by the notion of "reaching the audience," pleasing gallerists, or making works that are "consumable" or "priced to sell."  When it really comes to Contemporary Art Trends, it has nothing to do with, on the whole, what artists are making.  When it comes to Outsider Art today, we're all outsiders for the most part...  The insiders are handpicked by a few know-it-alls looking to make money right now.  This is, unfortunately, how our culture is defined now - not as much by authentic expressions in response to our time, but a framing of "culture" utilized to create a market demand.

Sarah Boxer's article expresses that many outsider artists were psychotic in some fashion, "madman," brut, traumatized, and others were just doing their thing, uneducated, but owning it and practicing art-making as an innate calling.  My favorite reference is to Bill Traylor, an African-American artist in Alabama "discovered" by a younger artist, Charles Shannon, who was enchanted by Traylor's serenity in his art making.  In this case and the case of the "brut," the artist is not driven by expectations, ideas, trends and money of the "Art World."

Oh my, that sounds attractive albeit a little isolated.

Then, the isolated artist (maybe he's psychotic, maybe he's a hermetic monk) and, more importantly, his or her artwork are discovered by someone of influence within the upper echelons of the "Art World."  The know-it-alls are enchanted by the never-before-known genius of this artist and see the art as a another get-rich-quick opportunity: "Oh, Auction House B just went nuts over Henry Darger's obsessive paintings of children!  The crazy sh*t this new-found artist makes out of mud and her own feces is going to hit the market like a firecracker!"

I'm starting to sound bitter, and maybe that's because for the lasts 10 - 15 years I mostly believed that any hardworking artist could make a living off of their ARTwork.  At this point in my artmaking life, I don't really think that's true.  Almost every artist I know has other work that supports them and they're lucky if that work is a healthy utility of their creative talent.  It seems to me, especially after reading Don Thompson's The $12 Million Stuffed Shark, that "Making It" as an artist has two very separate meanings.

Making It! option #1:  Make art in such a way as to brand yourself.  Make sure that people know what you look like or what your artwork looks like by creating an indelible propaganda with your art.  Often this entails tapping into the neuroses of our culture streaming out of popular media trends already driven by marketing tactics and economic models.  Hustle.  Get to know as many people hustling as you can - power in numbers!  Always be in the right place at the right time.  Get into publications, known-name-gallery exhibitions, museums, collections and make sure that you are international in your reach.  Then, there's a .0001% chance that someone in the Auction House arena will PICK YOU.  Yesssssss!

Making It! option #2:  Make art in such a way as to increase awareness, increase tactile and emotional intelligence, and increase truth and joy in this world.  Start with yourself.  It takes a lifetime of practice to reach a point where your artwork may affect the larger culture.  Attend to the inspiration that evolves out of your art practice and the life that you live with friends and family and work.  Pay attention to your dreams and to your intuition and make what you envision.  Make what you want to make.  This isn't a dress rehearsal - make what reflects who you know yourself to be.  If you can do this, talent or no talent (remember the outsider artist), there is a 99.99999% chance that you will die happy.   There is also a .0001% chance that someone in the Auction House arena will PICK YOU.  (...whatever...)

What I mean to say is,
No matter what an artist does, whether making art or making propaganda, whether making mud and feces sculptures, or making perfectly square black lacquered cubes, whether working on the inside or the outside, inside-out or outside-in, the chance of "making it" like a rock star is slim to none.  But, the chance of living a happy, fulfilled, self-knowing, wise and serene existence is pretty high.

I say I don't know what Art is because I see it as ephemeral and in flux.  I know that when I look at many works on the walls at museums, galleries, and in my own home, I understand the work to be "Art."  Sometimes I know nothing about the artist, sometimes I know more than enough.  I have tastes and preferences though even work that I don't aesthetically connect to can move me.  I know that when I set about to make art, I am either working from my own inspiration or I'm plagued by a sense of pleasing others.  When I think about Outsider Art and Insider Art, I realize that either can be Art, and that one or the other is being promoted by those in the Art dealing game.

Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art

Remember that game where you say a word as many times as it takes to begin to lose meaning and seem to be an arbitrary sound coming out of your mouth?  You can do it with any word.  I think it could be important to do that exercise with the word "art" every once in a while so as to remember how arbitrary the word and it's attending subject matter really are.

Now, I'm going to go and look at some art at two different art shows going on in town.  Then I plan to head back home and make some art with 10 lbs. of leftover porcelain clay I've been musing over in my studio for about a year.

Let it be known that my opinions change and my knowledge is always being reformed.