Art Fair Malaise
What’s the point of it all?
“I retain, but suspend, my personal taste to deal with the panoply of the art I see. I have a trick for doing justice to an uncongenial work: “What would I like about this if I liked it?” I may come around; I may not. Failing that, I wonder, What must the people who like this be like? Anthropology.” — Peter Schjeldahl
London recently became the centre of attention in terms of art world happenings, and as the sprawling tents of Frieze and Frieze Masters were set up on the fresh, grassy pastures of Regent’s Park, the Pavilion of Art and Design (“PAD”) returned to its usual home in the middle of Mayfair’s sedate Berkeley Square. Frieze first opened its doors amidst the heady optimism of Tony Blair’s (b. 1953) New Labour, where “Cool Britannia” had become shorthand for the country’s economic rise, with a resurgence of patriotism symbolised in imagery such as Noel Gallagher’s (b. 1967) Union Jack guitar and the Union dress worn by Geri Halliwell (b. 1972) to the 1997 Brit Awards; where the Spice Girls — described by Time magazine as “arguably the most recognisable face” of mid-90s youth culture — won a string of accolades including best song and best video. Surfing on a general efflorescence of prosperity, a new generation of British artists burst onto the international scene — just as punk had done in the 1970s — giving two youthful fingers to the staid and stuffy cultural establishment. In exhibitions such as Brilliant! New Art from London at the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis (1995) and Sensation, which travelled from London to Berlin to Brooklyn (1997-2000), they shocked audiences with the nature of their work, which was outspokenly direct, often gratuitously violent, pornographic or just downright bizarre. Such works included a monumental mural of serial killer Myra Hindley (1942-2002) painted with children’s handprints, mannequins made to look like mutilated corpses tied to a tree and a tent embroidered with the names of everyone the artist had ever slept with. “Suddenly art became like what pop music used to be,” said Norman Rosenthal (b. 1944), co-curator of Sensation. “Art had been for a little coterie of people. London was a tiny little world with very few galleries. Most of it took place in New York, with a little bit in Los Angeles, north Italy and Düsseldorf, Sensation played an important part in the expansion of the art world.” Advertising mogul Charles Saatchi (b. 1943), Britain’s most voraciously acquisitive contemporary art collector, dubbed the group of around forty — including Damien Hirst (b. 1965), Tracey Emin (b. 1963), Gary Hume (b. 1962), Marc Quinn (b. 1964), Mat Collishaw (b. 1966), Gavin Turk (b. 1967), Sarah Lucas (b. 1962), Jake (b. 1966) and Dinos (b. 1962) Chapman and the late Angus Fairhurst (1966-2008) — the “young British artists” (YBAs). At the time government grants allowed free study at prestigious universities and art schools such as Goldsmiths and RCA, and most of these artists came from modest backgrounds. Their interest in the “base” realities of everyday life — sex, death and materialism — channelled a working-class cynicism toward high art, expressed through crude humour and easily accessible metaphors. Historian and curator Julian Stallabrass has discussed how many of the artists in Sensation were interested in what he calls “the urban pastoral”, engaging imagery and attitudes of the working-class city, in a way that transformed the gritty urban fabric into visual spectacle. Though ironically, despite the visceral representation of working-class issues — e.g. Richard Billingham (b. 1970) who used photography to document the lives of his alcoholic father and chain-smoking mother — the majority of such work did little to help those it depicted, merely illustrating abject poverty for middle-class gallerygoers to be superficially shocked by.
“The Ascension” (2003) by “Young British Artist” Damien Hirst (b. 1965), shown here at Gagosian’s recent exhibition “Natural History”, image c/o Gagosian Gallery, London
This years PAD prize for best booth was awarded to France’s Jacques Lacoste, and WA Design, pictured, who specialise in Japanese design
After winning the Turner Prize in 1995 for works including Mother and Child (Divided) (1993) (the same year his controversial installation titled Two F***ing, Two Watching — featuring a rotting cow and bull copulating by means of a hydraulic device — was banned by New York public health officials for fear it would induce “vomiting among visitors”), formaldehyde-happy art-hooligan Damian Hirst went onto direct the video for Blur’s Country House (1995); ostensibly a satire on success where band members lark around with “arch lad” Keith Allen (b. 1953), while models in mini skirts pastiche, or rather, pay tribute to, bawdy British comedian Benny Hill (1924-1992). Then, in a move that might seem completely bizarre to today’s buttoned-up blue-chip art world, along with Allen and Blur bassist Alex James (b. 1968), the artist went on to form the band Fat Les, achieving a number two hit with football-themed Vindaloo (1998), followed by a version of Jerusalem (2000), featuring none other than a full Gospel choir and the London Gay Men’s Chorus (which, rather less successfully, topped the UK charts at number ten). Following a roller-coaster decade of alcopops, Lad’s mags and myriad romantic comedies — including Four Weddings and a Funeral (1994), Sliding Doors (1998) and Notting Hill (1999) — everything came crashing down with the end of Blair’s term in office, a worldwide financial crisis and fallout from the Iraq war. Meanwhile, across the channel, fourth-generation Parisian art dealer Patrick Perrin founded PAD — an art fair dedicated exclusively to the exhibition and sale of twentieth-century and contemporary design — and in the wake of its resounding success, launched the London edition a decade later in 2007, at the outset of another period of global economic turmoil. Of course, art lags equity by six to eighteen months (in February 2009, for example, just five months after the collapse of Lehman Brothers, the collection of French couturier Yves Saint Laurent (1936-2008), and his partner Pierre Bergé (1930-2017), broke auction records in a three-day “sale of the century”, bringing in more than $484 million at Christie’s) and it wasn’t until 2009, just as stocks started to rebound, that the high-end art market experienced a sharp contraction in the number of artworks being sold. This year has seen a similarly bleak backdrop, in the shadow of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, with a weakened pound, high inflation, rising interest rates and a catastrophic bout of “Trussonomics”, where a “mini” budget on September 23 delivered absolute chaos. As art imports continue to plummet, the UK’s status within the world market is on increasingly shaky ground as its global share fell by 3% to 17% last year, its lowest in a decade. The latest figures from HM Revenue and Customs, published in the 2022 Art Basel/UBS Global Art Market report, show that the value of art and antiques imported into the UK in 2020 was $2.1bn, down by one-third on 2019. The fallout from Brexit is still thought to be the main reason for such a sharp decline, a situation only intensified by the global pandemic of 2020. An avalanche of additional paperwork and a new requirement to pay VAT when moving art from the UK to EU are both considerable deterrents. Before Brexit, European artists could bring works over for sale without cost. Now they must pay a 5% levy. Only recently acclaimed sculptor Antony Gormley (b. 1950) sparked controversy by announcing his intention to become a German citizen as a result of what he called the “Brexit tragedy”, giving him dual nationality status. “I’m embarrassed about Brexit: it’s a practical disaster, a betrayal of my parents’ and grandparents’ sacrifice to make a Europe that was not going to be divided again. It’s a tragedy,” said Gormley at a major retrospective of his work at the Museum Voorlinden near The Hague. “Britain has fallen into the hands of self-seeking people who are not interested in public service but their personal careers, and that’s a shame.”
A suite of furniture designed by “décorateur des millionnaires” Paul Dupré Lafon shown by Galerie Jacques Lacoste at this years PAD London, image c/o Galerie Jacques Lacoste
Needless to say, many European collectors left the UK altogether, and since the pound sterling lost its value, sellers of more important works are choosing New York over London. In terms of silver linings, the low pound does have its up-side for the art trade, in terms of non-UK visitors, who see it as a great time to snap up works at a bargain price — and not only that, for non-dom collectors a pint at The Audley and supper at Scott’s will seem a comparative bargain. The United States, with its relatively liberal trade regime, has held the largest global share of the art market (43% in 2021) for more than a decade. Beneath that, the UK and China have consistently jostled for second place. China now takes the number two spot, with 20% market share. Frieze itself has recognised the growing significance of Asia, opening its inaugural fair in Seoul, South Korea, and auction houses such as Phillips and Christie’s have been beefing up their Hong Kong operations — reaping the benefits from no tax on art imports as well as no wealth, gift, estate or capital gains tax. Of course, it’s important to remember, that despite doom and gloom London is still the most global and exciting of Europe’s art capitals; and unlike Paris, it offers the opportunity to build a career without having been born with a Lalanne spoon in the mouth. “I came here for a reason … London offers opportunities to build a career without [the luck of] being born into the art world,” says Eva Langret, director of Frieze London, of her move to the capital from Paris in 2005. “London gives space to new voices and new communities in a way that I don’t see elsewhere.”
So as to emphasise her point, she’s quick to highlight the multicultural nature of the city, and recent data from the office of the Mayor of London, that finds there are over three hundred languages spoken in the UK capital, more than any other city in the world. For this years Frieze London, Antonia Marsh, founder of Soft Opening gallery brought works by Rhea Dillon (b. 1996, London) to the Focus section for galleries aged fifteen years or younger, which showcases the cream of the emerging talent crop. Dillon’s project re-considers the significance of — and the difference between — concepts of “landing” and “arrival” for the Caribbean diaspora. For Dillon, those who were moved by the triangular slave trade landed in the Caribbean or landed in the Americas, but did not choose to arrive, whereas the artist, part of the second generation of the Caribbean diaspora in the UK now feels able to arrive almost anywhere. Like the YBA’s of the 1990s, many of the artists shown at Frieze this year were London-based, a city that still serves them well with its art schools and museums; the latter of which, in a gentrification-saturated city with an ever-increasing cost of living crisis, remain largely free to visitors, allowing for the culturally curious to view art and design without having to stump up an entry fee. “[London’s] success didn’t come out of one period of wealth, but from reacting well to trends,” explains rare books dealer Daniel Crouch, who showed at this years Frieze Masters. “London grew up on trade and graft. It’s facing challenges right now, but the city has proved resilient over two millennia.”
The bathroom of “Équipement intérieur d’une habitation”, first shown at the 1929 Salon d’Automne, recreated here by the Design Museum for their recent exhibition “Charlotte Perriand: The Modern Life”
Perrin described this year’s PAD as “a curated gathering of the world’s most visionary gallerists and creators, driven by a common goal to champion exceptional work, new talent, innovation and craftsmanship; a desire to inspire the most spectacular interiors by sparking a conversation between past and present and most of all, a commitment to break down barriers between the disciplines of art, design and jewellery in order to foster creativity.” Yet in terms of creativity, none of these contemporary art fairs are anywhere near as avant-garde as the early years of the Salon d’Automne (or Société du Salon d’automne) held in Paris at the Grand Palais, which bore witness to the birth of Fauvism, the launch of Cubism and in 1944 after the liberation of Paris, an entire room dedicated to the work of Picasso (1881-1973) — in which he displayed some seventy-five paintings and sculptures. “Have you seen the Picasso room? It is much talked about,” Matisse wrote in a letter to fellow artist Charles Camoin (1879-1965). “There were demonstrations in the street against it. What success! If there is applause, whistle.” Outside the realms of art, in its “model rooms”, the greatest names of twentieth-century design put forward their own unique vision of art de vivre. Perhaps most famously, in 1929 Le Corbusier (1887-1965), Charlotte Perriand (1903-1999) and Pierre Jeanneret (1896-1967) presented Équipement intérieur d’une habitation (“Interior Equipment of a Dwelling”), a definitive stand against the traditional term “decorative arts”, which Corbusier had so wholeheartedly decried in his book The Decorative Arts of Today (1925). “Why,” Corbusier had asked, “should chairs, bottles, baskets, shoes, which are all objects of utility, all tools, be called decorative arts?” — and so replaced the term “decorative art” with the word “equipment”.
Representing their proposal for a “new dwelling” corresponding to the shape of modern architecture, it was kitted out in tubular-steel furniture designed by the modernist trio in 1928 for Villa Church in Ville-d’Avray — the first time these pieces, including the now-iconic Chaise basculante LC4 (1928), had been publicly exhibited. An idealised open-plan apartment, in place of walls, it featured a series of specially made metal storage units that separated the kitchen, bedroom and bathroom from the main living space. Not only was the floor of the apartment in glass, but so too was much of the external wall, which comprised one of Corbusier’s trademark ribbon windows set above a parapet of Saint-Gobain Nevada glass bricks. Furthermore, the windowless bedroom, bathroom and kitchen were lit by a luminous opaline ceiling — so radical in its conception that it must have seemed shocking to those who visited. A further indicator of its extraordinary modernity, the stand was made deliberately photogenic, resulting in countless editorial spreads. “You could say it was Instagrammable before Instagram,” quips Sébastien Cherruet, who co-curated Charlotte Perriand: Inventing a New World, the 2019 retrospective at Paris’s Fondation Louis Vuitton.
Artist and designer Fotis Evans' exhibition scenography for Christie's recent "Exceptional Sale" in London, demonstrating the power of cinematic understatement
The extraordinary booth designed by Ingrid Donat for Carpenters Workshop Gallery in October 2018, the artists vision of the home of a tribal art collector
One wonders how memorable any of this year’s PAD stands will be in years to come, let alone decades, and whether modernists like Jeanneret and Perriand would have approved of the inexplicable “tiki-inspired” — to quote one bemused exhibitor — cafe/bar, with its palm print wallpaper and raffia pendant lights (or for that matter, the choice of Harry Styles’ Satellite (2022) as the music to accompany promotional videos). There were, undoubtedly, some extraordinary pieces on display, for example, the suite of furniture by décorateur des millionnaires Paul Dupré Lafon (1900-1971) shown at Galerie Jacques Lacoste and a series of monumental panels by Neo-classically inclined French decorator Armand Albert Rateau (1882-1938), reproduced by Feau Boiseries and shown at Galerie Yves Gastou. Another highlight, in terms of contemporary offerings, Italian architect and designer Achille Salvagni (b. 1970) collaborated with Olivier Malingue Gallery to present a booth inspired by Nelson A. Rockefeller’s (1908-1979) iconic Fifth Avenue apartment — designed in 1938 by storied French decorator Jean-Michel Frank (1895-1941) — where works by modern masters Fernand Léger (1881-1955) and Henri Matisse (1954-1869) were displayed alongside Salvagni’s collection of exquisitely crafted contemporary works. Overall though, very few booths had the sort of oomph and wow factor one might expect of a fair that trumpets itself as “a byword for connoisseurship, exquisite taste and curatorial flair”. One UK-based gallery, in particular, put forward a booth that bore no relation to its usual cutting-edge aesthetic, instead choosing to present something uncharacteristically and disappointingly twee — especially if one compares it to the exceptional array of contemporary offerings currently on display in its brick-and-mortar London showroom. It rather begs the question: are all those exhibiting really taking the show seriously, as a means of illustrating the very best of what’s on offer, or, do they see it as nothing more than a glorified networking opportunity, saving the “good stuff” for those private exhibitions and retrospectives staged throughout the year? Whilst one can fully appreciate how important networking may be, both for exhibitors, and those visiting, it shouldn’t be the raison d’etre. “I’ve never seen this before,” opined Belgian collector Alain Servais, pointing to the crowds socialising outside booths at Frieze London rather than going into them. “It’s a mess. This is an event, not a fair!”
Those regular PAD attendees will remember the sensation caused by the extraordinary booth designed by artist Ingrid Donat (b. 1957) for Carpenters Workshop Gallery in October 2018. Donat, who was given carte blanche, transformed the booth into her vision of the home of a tribal art collector, creating an immersive floor-to-ceiling ambience, including a dining room and a lounge, with a strong blood-red facing wall and sofa (inspired by that belonging to her grandfather), which served as the perfect showcase for her extraordinary work — a fascinating symbiosis of the sophistication of Art Deco and the force of ethnographic art. Simple, yet immensely striking, interspersed carefully throughout the space were pieces of genuine tribal art, as well as works by artists and designers from the Carpenters’ Gallery stable, including Joep Van Lieshout (b. 1963), Nacho Carbonell (b. 1980), Wendell Castle (1932-2018) and Frederik Molenschot (b. 1981), all of whom Donat admires. This year, the gallery chose simply to display a selection of recent works — the highlight of which being Paul Cocksedge’s (b. 1979, London) “Slump Rock” coffee table (2019) — against the backdrop of a simulated concrete box. In terms of “curatorial flair”, and what that might mean, by no means is it to say there should be a “one size fits all” approach, and arguably those galleries such as Alain Marcelpoil and Chastel Maréchal are there to showcase works of twentieth-century design and not their ability to conjure theatrical stage sets. Though that’s not to say there aren’t ways and means, for example, outside the realm of the art fair tent, but still equally applicable, Amjad Rauf, International Head of Masterpiece and Private Sales at Christie’s recently engaged artist and designer Fotis Evans — the creative mind behind some of Hermès most imaginative window displays — to design exhibition scenography for the venerable auction house’s recent Exceptional Sale in London; an exercise in cinematic understatement, whereby a series of forest green partitions and plinths served to highlight and enhance the extraordinary works on display. As with many things in life, and not to sound overly new age, the key is balance, and perhaps this is down to the show’s organisers ensuring a suitably wide breadth of exhibitors, and if necessary, reducing prices and encouraging new blood. Sadly, for the foreseeable future, this might be nothing more than pie in the sky, given spiralling production costs, which this year saw contractors and suppliers increasing their fees by 20% to 50%, not to mention the increased cost of fuel for air conditioning and electricity, all of which, Perrin confirms, will be passed on to exhibitors next year.
Amidst the current global s**t show one frequently hears designers, artists, gallerists, makers etc express concern at the state of the market — especially in the UK, where arts and culture don’t figure very highly on the Conservative Party’s list of funding priorities (though we’ve yet to see how Mr October, aka Rishi Sunak (b. 1980) intends to address the significant economic challenges facing UK Creative Industries — regardless of their accounting for 2.2 million jobs and bringing in £306 million a day). Despite a domestic economy in turmoil, sheer numbers in attendance at this year’s Frieze and Frieze Masters — with some VIP ticket holders waiting in line for more than an hour — seem to suggest London’s art market is still alive and kicking. Merely a few hours into opening New York-based David Zwirner confirmed the $6 million sale of Kerry James Marshall’s (b. 1955) latest paintings inspired by John James Audubon’s (1785-1851) Birds of America (1827) and similarly, London-based old-masters dealer Johnny Van Haeften sold an oil-on-copper painting by Jan Brueghel the Elder (1625-1568) for $10 million, only slightly less than the artist’s auction record. “I’d never met the collector before,” said Van Haeften. “It was a complete impulse buy” (and wouldn’t we all like to be in that boat…).
Putting sales aside, in terms of creativity, during the twentieth century, a period of enormous economic and societal upheaval there was an explosion of talent, in part with the intent of convincing people en masse of the beneficial role art plays in society. If fairs such as PAD, Masterpiece, Frieze et al aren’t used by gallerists, dealers and designers as a vehicle to inspire, stimulate and excite then what’s the point? It’s not asking exhibitors to reinvent the wheel, or to employ a cheap “bells and whistles” approach, simply as a means of garnering editorial attention — but when it’s essentially the same pieces rolled out year after year there’s definitely a problem. “It needs something radical, and that doesn’t have to be radical for the sake of it, just an alternative perspective,” offers a leading London designer. “Right now, to me, that would be radical.” This is also in part a reflection of the state of the interiors industry, whereby very little in the “super-prime” sector (i.e. those clients likely to be shopping at blue-chip galleries) does anything to push boundaries or offer a different take on what “luxury” should be. Designers like Philippe Starck (b. 1949) — whose work was shown by Galerie Jousse Entreprise at this year’s PAD London — and Andrée Putman (1925-2013) were “radical”, not in the sense of their producing utopian, futuristic interiors of the sort advocated by Corbusier, but in terms of perspective — and changing the general consensus as to what materials and furnishings could and should be used in the high-end design. Throughout history, chaos has spurred creativity — as can be seen with the YBAs who came out of an early 80s recession and the collapse of the Thatcher government — and so hopefully in coming years, and with future fairs, we might start to see something a little more original, or at least, memorable, that serves to inspire those in attendance, who in turn, are hopefully there for more than a networking opportunity. Not everyone will be able to rise to the challenge, but then in the words of revered American art critic Peter Schjeldahl (1942-2022): “The fact is, some things are better than other things, and some things are f***ing incredible.”