Art: Observations

Antony Gormley: Another Place

2010-06-11T22:09:00.000-07:00

I first learned about Antony Gormley while working for the art advisory firm in San Francisco on plans to install one of his cast-iron figures on a client's property. They wished to place the sculpture in the middle of a lake near their home, from which it would appear to be rising out of the water's surface. I don't think it was ever completed after I moved out of California, but during the project, I fell in love with his work.

Gormley has an ability to communicate both solitude and unity through his installations, which often include dozens of life size, cast-iron figures of his own body. Another Place is a great example (pictured above). Installed, and then later removed because of local politics, at Crosby Beach in England in 2005, 100 of these figures were positioned so that they faced out toward the sea. They each stood alone, spaced apart by some distance, yet at the same time they remained as a group and therefore unified in some way. It makes for an interesting tension between the two realities - separateness and solidarity. Standing among them, between these two possibilities, where would we, as the viewers and perhaps participants in the scene, have fallen?

Louise Bourgeois

2010-06-11T19:18:00.000-07:00

A strong woman, perhaps the matriarch of the contemporary art world, outspoken (she once told the Washington Post that she "really wants to worry people, to bother people" with her work), courageous, hard-working, visionary, and prolific in her career, she continued to draw, make sculpture and paint all the way up to her death last month at the age of 98. I, like so many others in this country and throughout the world, was drawn to her work on so many levels. Her uninhibited approach to both materials and subject matters - which ranged from emotions such as anger, betrayal, even murder, and issues of sexuality, feminism and motherhood - was perhaps unmatched by any other female artist. For me personally, the image of the spider, which she wrought in both small and large scale formats, has made the most impact.

What is pictured above, the mothering, protective, and guardian spider that stands over a caged room or "cell", in which a single chair is offered behind an open door, is quite possibly the most breathtaking thing I've ever seen in person. When I first stood in front of it (or rather, in front of a similar sculpture at Dia:Beacon in upstate New York - this one is owned privately) I was both horrified and elated. And somewhere in that mix of emotions I was moved. Intellectually and spiritually moved into a different place, from which I would never be the same again.

I saw several more of these spiders last year at the Hirshhorn's retrospective exhibition of her career. They were standing at the very end of a long series of galleries, and by the time I saw them, I was more than eager and nervous about the experience, wondering if they would have the same impact as the first time. And they did -- as magnificent as I had remembered, and perhaps more so because of what I had learned about her work in the interim. And that is how her art and her life will continue, with each and every time we encounter her sculptures, drawings, or paintings, wherever they are installed.

Warhol, Self-Portrait (1986)

2010-05-11T18:01:00.000-07:00

Coming up for auction tomorrow night at Sotheby's is a large-scale late self-portrait by Andy Warhol estimated to sell between $10,000,000 - 15,000,000. I'm showing the yellow painting that is installed at the Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburg - the one for sale tomorrow is purple. He executed several series of self-portraits over his career, and in each series revealed a little more of himself. In this last series, of which there are 5 finished paintings, he shows us his entire face in all of its stark reality and brutal honesty. The frontality, the sheer size of the canvas, and the confrontational posturing is hard to escape. Unlike the Abstract Expressionists that came before him (Rothko, Pollock, de Kooning, Kline) Warhol leaves us little room for spiritual interpretation that comes from visually exploring the various permutations and movements of paint and composition. Instead, we are presented with a bold and direct image for our consumption. It is this element - consumption - that defined Warhol's career and aesthetic, which in turn became the driving force in his role as the greatest artist of the 1960s Pop Art movement. Consumption, consumerism, commercialism, mechanical reproduction merging with high art -- all of these qualities were the underpinnings of Warhol's work and the movement in general.

It will be interesting to see the hammer price of this painting, as it's one of his most important pieces and predated his untimely death by just a year. Here is a private video screening of the work, which gives us a nice sense of its enormous scale and visual power it must have for the viewer.

Asian Art Market Continues to Climb

2010-04-10T19:33:00.000-07:00

I've been following the Asian art market over the past several years and watching it grow steadily with each season. This past week's Spring sales in Hong Kong were no exception. The Sotheby's April 5 Contemporary Art sale far exceeded expectations, earning HK $130 million over its $94 estimate (see Art+Auction for a great article on the results and analysis). Among the more successful lots were a good example from Zeng Fanzhi's well regarded Mask Series and a work by Yayoi Kusama. Here are secondary pieces by each of them that caught my eye tonight when I viewed the catalogue. The third work is a painting that I fell in love with instantly, and whose hammer price was 4 times the amount of its estimate. So apparently I wasn't the only one to have this response:

Zeng Fanzhi
Couple
Oil on canvas
86 1/2 x 57 in.
Estimate: HK $2,800,000 - 3,500,000
Sold: HK $3,620,000 (USD $466,183.60)

Yayoi Kusama
Infinity Nets
Acrylic on canvas
28 5/8 x 35 7/8 in.
Estimate: HK $250,000 - 350,000
Sold: HK $475,000 (USD $61,242.12)

Jia Aili
On the Field of Hopes
Oil on canvas
64 1/2 x 104 1/4 in.
Estimate: HK $350,000 - 450,000
Sold: HK $1,940,000 (USD $250,125.70)

Ad Reinhardt's Black Paintings

2010-03-27T21:58:00.000-07:00

I watched a documentary on Thomas Merton this weekend, as I have been thinking about him quite a bit this week after recently discussing his life and writings with an old friend of mine. Merton was an inspiration for me when I was in graduate school many years ago. His retreat from society in the 1930's to cloistered life at a Trappist monastery fascinated me, as did his dedication to prayer, surrendering his will and what he called "false ego" to God, and finding a new freedom in serving others. He was a Catholic writer and peace activist, and later expanded his theological writings to include a "demand of all humanity by God", including those outside the Christian world. Either God has all of us, or none of us. These convictions became the foundation for my own structures of belief that I had started to build for myself at the time, and which continue to stay with me today.

Merton was a close friend of Ad Reinhardt, the abstract painter who was well regarded for his "black paintings" of the 1960s. The artist also referred to them as his "ultimate paintings" because he felt he had taken his craft to the extreme and final end of abstraction, eliminating virtually all color and form. I first saw one of these works at the Berkeley Art Museum in 2001, during a visit there with my graduate professor, the late Doug Adams, who passionately described the friendship between the two men and the admiration Merton had for these paintings.

Here are two good examples, the second of which belongs to the permanent collection at the Tate Modern in London. As their curatorial notes indicate, this painting has an underlying grid of different colored squares divided by a green central horizontal band. Seen from top left, the squares are: red, blue, red, red, blue, red. Each of these colours was mixed with black paint to give a matte surface quality. But there is no mention of what Adams pointed out to me and my fellow classmates that afternoon in Berkeley, which is that there is also a square and symmetrical cross in the layers beneath the colors, which emerges slowly and quietly as the viewer allows. Perhaps it is that element - the cross - that drew Merton's attention. It certainly does for me.

Abstract Painting, 1960-65
Oil on canvas
60 x 60 in.

Abstract Painting No. 5, 1962
Oil on canvas
1524 x 1524 mm

Jackson Pollock

2010-03-21T21:04:00.000-07:00

The chief aspect of the life and career of Jackson Pollock that has always fascinated me was his self-destructiveness. He struggled for years to achieve success and fame, and when he received it, following the period in which his "drip paintings" took the world by storm and landed him the cover of Life Magazine (1949), he abruptly abandoned the style altogether. He simply stopped making them. When he returned to work a few years following the magazine article, the color in his compositions was gone, as well as the all-over dripped lines of paint. Instead, he painted in black, some abstract compositions, but mostly figurative works that recalled some of his earliest pieces.Why would he have seemingly turned on himself and his success, at the peak of his fame? Why would he have abandoned the technique of drip painting that he had literally invented, and which had changed the course of modern art history?

The answer baffles me, and probably most others, as none of us will not ever be fully aware of an artist's intentions or process.

But yet I deeply appreciate the inner struggles that Pollock must have experienced, which ultimately prevented him from fully embracing the path of long term success and longevity his life might had taken. It would have been "easy" for him to continue his drip paintings, work with a commercial gallery in New York City, and make an absolute fortune along the way, enjoying every single moment that was given him. But he wasn't an easy man. And that's the very reason why his work was so brilliant, so groundbreaking, and so spectacular to absorb in person.

So the answers are in the paintings themselves. Here are my favorites, of which, among his non-drip paintings, Guardians of the Secret at SFMOMA tops the list.

Guardians of the Secret, 1943
Oil on canvas
48 3/8 x 75 3/8 in.

One: Number 31, 1950
Oil and enamel on canvas
8' 10 x 17' 5 5/8 in.

Number 1 (Lavender Mist), 1950
Oil, enamel, & aluminum on canvas
87 x 118 in.

Laurie Simmons: In and Around the House

2010-03-17T18:33:00.000-07:00

It has been a year since my last entry, and I thought that writing about Laurie Simmons would be the perfect place to begin. Simmons was one of the first women photographers in the 1970s, creating work during a decade in which photography was still becoming accepted as a viable medium for art making. "In and Around the House", her seminal work from 1976-1978, is a series of photographs that depict scenes from the interior spaces of a dollhouse. These scenes are nostalgic and traditional, and what you might expect to find within its walls. However, on closer look, some of these scenes and in particular, the placement of the miniaturized dolls, are unexpected. One critic describes them to be "about the time of memory, and about those emotions which are fundamentally temporal: longing, nostalgia, presentiment, anxiety, expectation, dread." Simmons describes her pictures of the doll (which she named Jane, after her friend, the painter Jane Kaplowitz) as looking "empty and desolate. I felt that their mood counterbalanced the cuteness of the doll, and I surprised myself by finding them acceptable."

These two images are among my favorite from the series. In the first, Jane is seated on the floor, in between the chair in which she ought to be comfortably reclined, and the television opposite it. Instead, she has been displaced from her chair and positioned to face the viewer. It is a confrontational image, and one that calls into question the entire arrangement and its underlying meaning.

The same kind of displacement can apply to the second image, which depicts a messy kitchen either before or after a meal has been prepared. The clock reads a few minutes after 6:00, so most likely it is dinner time. It is filled with suggestions of a meal, and the hint of family, but there is none. Instead, it is empty and uncomfortable to view with every detail, including the arrangement of the chairs, in which a third (positioned between the table and the kitchen counter) has either fallen down or been knocked over. It is eerie, and the events either before or after this moment is left to the imagination of the viewer.

This series of photographs was most recently exhibited at Carolina Nitsch Project Room in New York in June 2008. Simmons lives and works in New York City and is represented by Sperone Westwater.

Woman/Interior IV, 1976
Black and white photograph
5 1/4 x 8 inches
Edition of 10

Empty Kitchen, 1976
Black and white photograph
5 1/4 x 8 inches
Edition of 10

Sotheby's Contemporary Art Evening Sale, May 12, New York

2009-04-17T20:02:00.000-07:00

The Spring auctions are around the corner, and after looking at Sotheby's beautiful new e-catalogue online tonight (check out the "relative scale" feature which completely blew me away), I am thrilled to report that it looks absolutely amazing, especially compared to the tentative and uneasy Fall offerings. What a selection, including a large-scale Jean Michel Basquiat (Lot #23: Red Man One, $3,000,000 - 5,000,000), a wonderful witty Richard Price joke painting (Lot #35: Can You Imagine, $600,000 - 800,000), and a 1986 Warhol camouflage painting (Lot #39: Camouflage, $1,800,000 - 2,500,000) that we rarely see in an evening sale. These late paintings are among my favorite of Warhol's work, because the series also included images of Leonardo Da Vinci's famous painting of the Last Supper, thereby taking a turn into the realm of religious art. They were joyfully documented by one of my thesis advisers and author, Jane Dillenberger, during the time I was studying with her. What an amazing way to discover and learn to appreciate this late period of Warhol's work.

The artworks shown pictured above are spectacular. Jeff Koons' sculpture (Lot #9: Baroque Egg with Bow, $600,000,000 - 800,000,000) is from his Celebration series, which (like Warhol's entire oeuvre) took images from our every-day life and exhalted them to high art. Here, the familiar and nostalgic Easter egg becomes a hyper-realistic, perfectly crafted, intellectually satisfying sculpture. The monumental scale and artistic precision (thanks to a factory of workers, again, like Warhol) make it even more enticing - and best seen in person. Martin Kippenberger's painting (Lot #7: Untitled, $3,500,000 - 4,500,000) is new to me, but I like him immediately. This self-portrait brings to mind the harsh, unforgiving paintings of Lucian Freud. According to the catalogue notes, Kippenberger was a master of self-portraiture, in which nothing was left sacred. In his later paintings, of which this is the best example, his self-mocking depiction of his aging body was offered up to the viewers as a stark contrast to his hero, Picasso, the ultimate master of the self-portrait.

The price points for the Koons and Kippenberger, as well as the inclusion of several Twombly drawings, a Bill Viola video and a Jeff Wall lightbox, make this particular auction pretty exciting and diverse.

Philip Guston at NGA

2009-03-07T13:19:00.000-08:00

I read an article in the Washington Post this morning about the newly installed Guston paintings at the National Gallery of Art (from their permanent collection), and was happy to see that it was written from the art experience/art viewing perspective. In particular, the observation was made that by opening up the skylight in the tower of the National Gallery of Art, where the Gustons are now placed, the paintings could be viewed in an entirely new way - a way in which the paint becomes not just "tones", but colors that change and communicate with the viewer as the sunlight changes position above.

The author also asserts that Guston might have actually been a colorist - and that the deep pinks, reds, and oranges of his later cartoon work are good examples of his color method. I believe that although the subject matter and figuration are remarkably different from his earlier abstract paintings, his use of color remained the same and thereby functions as a common thread. Because if you look closely at the earlier works, you will generally see the same color palette and can determine, from knowing the cartoon paintings, that the artist is the same. Both periods of his career are important and provocative - and I would imagine that seeing these later paintings under natural light would definitely change our understanding of his technique. I'll have to go check this out in person soon...

Louise Bourgeois opens at the Hirshhorn

2009-02-20T17:21:00.000-08:00

For the past several weeks, since the Louise Bourgeois survey opened at the Hirshhorn, I have been anxious to see her work again in person. This is one artist with whose work I have a real connection because of my visit to the attic of Dia:Beacon many years ago, where some of her most important pieces are permanently installed. During that visit, I had spent quite a long time on the main level, enjoying the beautiful open, airy, naturally lit spaces and the large open format of the galleries. Paintings and sculpture by Andy Warhol, Richard Serra, Agnes Martin, Sol LeWitt - these were pieces that we took in quite easily and with much joy.

But then, I climbed up the staircase to the small, cramped rooms of the attic, without knowing what awaited me (I must have neglected to read our guidebook). And I'll never forget the sight that I came face to face with -- Bourgeois' Spider. I had seen other versions of this bronzed sculpture at SFMOMA, but this one was different -- she was crouching over a cage (which is referred to as a "cell"), inside of which stood a single empty chair. It was an immediate reaction of both sheer terror and shock. In that dark attic, standing in front of what looked like a manifestation of someone's worst nightmare, I felt completely displaced and uneasy.

But at the same time, and as has been widely written about with regard to Bourgeois' Spiders, there was another sensibility that came over me as I continued to stand there. A sense that perhaps - somehow - this creature was carefully guarding and protecting whatever lied beneath her in that cage. Perhaps she was not a predator, but in fact a protector. But a protector of what? And who (or what) resided in that chair? Was this truly a cell - a prison - or a safe haven? Or was it a repository of the unknown, the subconscious, our fears and nightmares? These possibilities are totally ambivalent, and there is no easy answer. And I believe that within this dilemma rests the mind and soul of the viewer, left to determine which one makes the most sense.

The experience of viewing this particular work was definitely a journey of the mind and soul, and drives at the very heart of my perspective about art -- that the experience of art is found in the place (or displacement) where the viewer resides - when confronted by something disturbing, shocking, or intensely beautiful, the viewer is first stunned into stillness and contemplation, and then into intellectual movement, as the viewer tries to figure out their relationship with and response to that particular work. Much of these ideas are grounded in what I studied, read, and wrote about in graduate school and I'm dying to get out my old term papers and start writing again. There is so much to say. But in the meantime, a trip to the Hirshhorn is long overdue, and I can't wait to see if a Spider awaits me there.

Looking at Art - The Phillips Collection

2009-02-16T18:26:00.000-08:00

Over the weekend at the Phillips - I liked the symmetry between the number of viewers and the number of figures in each painting being viewed.

Edgar Degas, Dancers at the Barre

William Merritt Chase, Hide and Seek

Auguste Renoir, The Luncheon of the Boating Party

Behind the Scenes at Sotheby's

2009-02-05T23:39:00.000-08:00

These "private viewings" from Sotheby's are wonderful - I absolutely love hearing about the artworks from the specialists' point of view. And how delightful to see Koons' Banality sculpture up close, and what a thrill to get a glimpse of Richter's remarkable brushstrokes in Troisdorf. I also loved the description of the Fontana, learning how powerfully his materials (gold leaf, thick swirls of paint) communicate and convey the sensibilities of the world at that time - as well as the geography of Venice - and the rich history of religious painting and architecture of its beautiful churches. Love it all.

Auction Results: Sotheby's Contemporary Art, Evening Sale, February 5, London

2009-02-05T23:02:00.000-08:00

The art market is alive and well! The contemporary sale at Sotheby's in London last night was successful, all lots sold just within, or above, their estimate, with the exception of two. Here were my favorites (in GBP):

Zeng Fanzhi
Untitled (Mask Series)
Estimate: 300,000 - 400,000
Sold: 601,250

Gerhard Richter
Abstraktes Bild
Estimate: 500,000 - 700,000
Sold: 541,250

Anish Kapoor
Untitled
Estimate: 500,000 - 700,000
Sold: 982,050

Gerhard Richter
Troisdorf
Estimate: 1,500,000 - 2,000,000
Sold: 2,113,250

Michael Heizer at Dia: Beacon

2009-01-31T11:24:00.001-08:00

When I was home last month for the holidays, I met up with an old friend for drinks and at some point the conversation steered towards art - Robert Smithson in particular. My friend had just discovered his work at an SFMOMA exhibition and was thrilled about finding beauty in such simple materials (in this particular work, dirt and mirrors). We also talked briefly about Smithson's well-known earthwork, Spiral Jetty, which is pivotal in contemporary art history (during the 1960's) as perhaps the best example of earthworks, or land art. And I started thinking about Dia: Beacon, my absolute favorite exhibition space, where many of the earthwork artists are embraced. Here, in the vast, empty, cavernous spaces of a former Nabisco warehouse, these large-scaled works can be displayed and enjoyed to their full capacity, as they were meant to be. A trip to Dia is an unique experience, something not replicated anywhere else in the country in typical museums or gallery spaces, simply because of the enormous scale of the warehouse and the vision & dedication of the board and founding directors.

So when I first turned the corner at Dia many years ago and came face to face with Michael Heizer's North, East, South, West, I had a visceral reaction about seeing something the size and scale of which I had never seen before. I literally came to a complete stop and at once felt a sense of awe and fear, because instead of looking at sculptures rising up in front of me, I found myself peering down into the vast darkness and depth of Heizer's work. They are called "negative" spaces, bronzed forms that sink deep into the ground below. It was an awesome experience to see his work in person, for the first time, without knowing anything about it beforehand, just like my friend's discovery of old materials seen in a brand-new way.

Like Smithson, Heizer works with materials of the earth, or "within" the earth as these negative sculptures can attest to. And his work completely (and literally in this case) flips upside down the notions and assumptions we have about art. Standing in front of these perfectly bronzed interior spaces and being moved by them - displaced by them - is exactly what I believe the experience of viewing art is all about - the movement of something inside of the mind and soul, from knowledge to discovery, from assumptions and prejudgments to something entirely new. It's uplifting and renewing, thrilling and humbling. I can only begin to imagine - but perhaps not, if my theory is correct about the art experience being fundamentally unpredictable - what it must feel like to stand in front of Smithson's Spiral Jetty in Utah, or Heizer's outdoor sculptures in Nevada, or Walter de Maria's Lightning Field in New Mexico. One day, I hope to find out.

Michael Heizer, North, East, South, West, conceived in 1967

Looking at Art -- Joan Miro

2009-01-31T11:14:00.000-08:00

My son & I looking at Miro's Circus Horse at the Hirschorn, although we were convinced it was a rooster, not a horse...

Looking at Art -- Calders at the Hirschorn

2009-01-31T11:08:00.001-08:00

I thought this scene from our outing this morning to the Hirschorn was absolutely wonderful -- the man on the bench must have been there for a long time, as I found him pensively watching the center Calder rotating slowly in front of the yellow canvas behind it - while the security guards, off to the side, were engaged in a conversation about something else entirely. Two completely different worlds within one small gallery.

Tobias Meyer on the art market

2008-12-18T16:52:00.000-08:00

I really enjoyed getting this candid look inside Sotheby's contemporary art department, now a month after the November sales. I absolutely agree with what Tobias Meyer said -- that if the right piece comes up, something that is rare, from a pivotal point in the artist's oeuvre, and with the right provenance and condition -- then the market will respond. And I love that my pick of favorites last night included the Currin, which is shown here.

Looking at Art -- MoMA

2008-12-18T09:43:00.000-08:00

Sent to me by my fellow blogger Ashleigh, with just one person standing in front of Warhol's iconic work:

And this was as close as I got:

Sold: From Sotheby's Contemporary Art Evening Sale

2008-12-17T18:04:00.000-08:00

Here are a few pieces that did manage to sell - which were among my favorites this Fall - although take a look at the hammer price of the Judd:

Cy Twombly, Untitled, Painting in 2 Parts (Bassano in Teverina)
Estimate: $4,000,000 - 6,000,000
Sold: $4,786,5000

John Currin, Nice 'N Easy
Estimate: $3,500,000 - 4,500,000
Sold: $5,458,500

Donald Judd, Untitled (90-14 Bernstein)
Estimate: $2,000,000 - 3,000,000
Sold: $1,142,500

The Results Are In...

2008-12-17T17:47:00.000-08:00

And apparently not great, as reported by ArtInfo. I don't think any of us are surprised, yes?

A Bad Year for Contemporary Art at Sotheby’s and Christie’s

December 5, 2008

NEW YORK/LONDON—Annual sales of contemporary art at Sotheby’s and Christie’s flagship auctions in New York and London have dropped 17 percent in 2008, according to Bloomberg. The significant drop from a total of $2.4 billion last year to just below $2 billion this year comes after two years of more than doubling in sales.

The ongoing international economic crisis hit the two premier auction houses in the last quarter of 2008. In November, Sotheby’s and Christie’s evening contemporary art auctions in New York raised $125.1 million and $113.6 million respectively, with fees, far below their presale lower estimates. Almost a third of lots failed to sell at both houses.

“Next year’s going to be very tricky,” said Philip Hoffman, chief executive of the London-based Fine Art Fund and a former Christie’s employee during the last major art market recession, in the early 1990s. “People aren’t going to put things up for sale. Volumes at auction could be 30 or 40 percent down on this year. It’s going to hit the auction houses badly.”

NY Sales begin tonight

2008-11-03T18:42:00.000-08:00

We'll see how these post-war and contemporary NY auctions fare over the next several weeks; in the meantime everyone is on pins & needles waiting to see if the art market can stand on its own, or if it will succumb to the same fate as the rest of the world markets. According to Marc Porter of Christie's, “Prices of all assets have fallen — stocks, gold, oil, real estate — and it would be unrealistic to expect works of art to be immune to the market’s pressures.” For more of Carol Vogel's article recently published in the NY Times about the sales, read here.

Philip Guston, Beggar’s Joys (1954-55)

Vogel writes about the Guston painting:

Minimizing risk is the message of the moment. While Sotheby's has said that it has provided only half the number of guarantees it did a year ago, the company still has outstanding guarantees of $285.5 million. And guarantees are still given for desirable art, such as the Philip Guston.

Prices have soared since 1996 when Donald L. Bryant paid $1.7 million for the painting at Christie’s in New York, then a record price for the artist. Now Sotheby’s has lined the inside of its sale catalog with the image and experts there say that the seminal painting could well bring around $15 million, which is about what Mr. Bryant has received as a guarantee.

Sarah Thornton: Seven Days in the Art World

2008-11-03T18:23:00.000-08:00

I was reading one of my go-to blogs, written by Matthew Langley here in Washington, and came across a mention of this forthcoming book about the art world. Can't wait to get a copy!!

Joseph Kosuth at the Hirshhorn

2008-10-30T17:17:00.000-07:00

Last night I heard Joseph Kosuth speak at the Hirshhorn Museum and what an experience -- I've been attending artist lectures for over a decade and nothing compared to this one. Where to begin? This is an artist who pioneered conceptual art, most notably in the 1960s when he undertook his series of "investigations" into ways in which art could exceed the limitations of institutional and structural hierarchies of art and art history. Kosuth is known for his brilliant and ironic appropriation of words -- in which the reading of the words and the subsequent understanding of its meaning (by the viewer) is the ultimate goal of the artwork and aesthetics. Whether or not the viewer deems it ugly or beautiful is besides the point -- the process is what matters. Which again goes to the heart of my own perspective about "where" art resides -- it's in the interaction between artwork and viewer, when the viewer is moved/disturbed/inspired/puzzled/etc.

Prior to hearing Kosuth speak, I was most familiar with his neon works. But during the lecture I was really intrigued with his larger-scaled pieces, particularly the permanent installations at various venues in Europe, in which he employed significant portions of texts and ideas -- that contradicted each other -- resulting in textures and overlays of meaning and ideas. His installation in Copenhagen was one of the pieces I was most struck by. He began with a section of Hans Christian Anderson's "Emperor's New Clothes" (one of Kosuth's favorite childhood stories) and then visually interspersed it with fragments of Kierkegaard's damning review of the same text - but took these fragments out of context and connected them in such a way that it read in defense of Anderson. Brilliant. I absolutely love Kosuth's genius and rebellious nature, which (in this particular instance) was defiant against the philosopher who had criticized his beloved author, but in a larger context, defied the very annals of art history in the making of his highly intellectualized text art that negated the requirement of paper and paintbrush that had come before him.

Initially signed with Leo Castelli (when Kosuth was a mere 24 years old), he has been represented by Sean Kelly Gallery for many years, has exhibited around the world (including several years at Documenta and the Venice Biennale) and is currently showing a large holding of his work at the Hirshhorn Museum. I will continue to enjoy learning about and viewing his work.

Joseph Kosuth, Self-Defined Object (White), neon, 1966

Looking at Art -- The Phillips Collection

2008-10-26T20:15:00.001-07:00

Could there be a more inviting way to look at (and converse about) art?

Quote of the Week - Eric Fischl

2008-10-26T20:10:00.000-07:00

"To have the art experience is to change places with the object. It is for one to become still, to become frozen in one's tracks, to leave one's body for a brief moment, to stand outside oneself and reflect on one's life meaning by looking through the object, which now stares back. It is a profoundly complex process of identification and transference."

Eric Fischl, from his essay "A Meditation on the Death of Painting", The Phillips Collection Fall 2008 magazine.

Bourgeois and Basquiat at Christie's NY sale

2008-10-26T12:27:00.000-07:00

Okay, my few yet loyal readers, the rant portion of my blog is done (well, at least for now!!) and it's time to move on to the major Fall auctions being held in New York at Christie's and Sotheby's next month, which I think will be the true test of how the art market is faring in context of our current financial meltdown. Just yesterday the Christie's Post-War and Contemporary Art catalogue arrived in the mail, and I'm so excited to start reading through the material. Browsing through these hefty books and studying the exceptionally written essays ("lot notes") is absolutely my favorite moment of the Fall season. So here are a few highlights, with more to come in the weeks ahead:

Louise Bourgeois
Spider V, 1999
Bronze and steel
21 x 38 x 44 in.
No.2/6 (edition of 6 with one AP)
Estimate: $1,500,000 - 2,000,000:

Jean-Michel Basquiat
Untitled (Boxer), 1982
Acrylic and oil paintstick on linen
76 x 94 in.
Estimate not provided:

Review of the Christo exhibit in today's Post

2008-10-22T11:17:00.000-07:00

Did anyone else read it, and what are your thoughts? Here is the link to the scathing review given the current Christo exhibition at the Phillips, written by Blake Gopnik for the Washington Post. And here are my thoughts --

Number 1. Gopnik condescends that the artists are asking the viewers to consider art that "doesn't exist" and "may never be made". Well, I think he misses the point entirely -- that in fact, the art does exist, it exists (as the artists themselves stated quite clearly in their written and verbal presentations) in the process of acquiring permits; in the process of spending decades planning for it, raising money for it, creating the materials for it; and in the minds of those who are for it and against it. And perhaps then, existentially speaking, whether or not it is actually made (which it will, given their track record) is irrelevant.

Number 2. I don't think Christo or Jeanne-Claude have ever claimed to be "environmental" or green artists, so Gopnik's argument (that people driving to see the finished project in gas-guzzling SUVs and that the use of excessively large quantities of fabric is in contrast to the artists' values) is a bit off.

Number 3. This is what really got me going -- he claims that "everyone" agrees that museums are on a "special-exhibition treadmill" that is "exhausting" them and creating a "problem". As I see it, special exhibitions are perhaps the best way that a museum can actively engage in the current trends of the contemporary art market. And that they also provide a substantial revenue source for their budget, as well as invaluable publicity. For example, the recent Jeff Wall retrospective was immensely important for both the artist and the organizing institution for all the reasons I just stated. Without a special exhibition program, a museum is left with a permanent collection alone, which by itself is too slow-moving and arduous in acquiring new pieces (which can take years sometimes) to stay active and relevant in today's art conversation. I think that the REAL "easy measure" for the "worth of any show" is whether or not it makes someone want to visit the museum in the first place. And while they're visiting - either for the special exhibition OR the permanent collection - they will visit the other as well.

Certainly, this exhibition might not be for everyone, but just as certainly, it is not a waste of time for either the artists, the museum, or for many of us art lovers who understand and appreciate their work and vision.

Auction Results - Phillips de Pury & Company, Contemporary Art, Evening Sale, London, October 18

2008-10-20T07:38:00.000-07:00

My favorite lots didn't sell this weekend - withdrawn at auction - which is not unusual by itself, as many sellers (either private collectors or galleries) will place a minimum "reserve" amount during consignment, and if that amount isn't reached during live bidding, the piece is "bought in" or withdrawn and then returned to the seller. However, I was a bit surprised to see that most of these works didn't go:

Takashi Murakami, Tongan-kun
Estimate: 3,500,000 - 4,500,000 GBP
Withdrawn

Richard Prince, Untitled
Estimate: 100,000 - 150,000
Sold: 133, 250

Zhang Xiaogang, Bloodline Series: A Boy
Estimate: 200,000 - 300,000
Withdrawn

Joan Mitchell, La Grande Vallee XIII
Estimate: 2,000,000 - 3,000,000 GBP
Withdrawn

Donald Judd, Untitled, 1988
Estimate: 550,000 - 750,000
Withdrawn

London Contemporary Sales -- Precursor to NY

2008-10-19T22:21:00.000-07:00

Update 10/25: Sold for $9,400,000

It seems my curiosity about the NY sales are right on track - as reported below by Judd Tully for ArtInfo on October 15 (which also includes a wonderful photo gallery of some of the pieces auctioned this week in London). Sales results to follow:

LONDON—Given the chaotically gloomy status of the global economy, it seems almost foolhardy to assess relative value in the art market right now. That said, the world’s top auction houses made their bets early this past summer on what contemporary property would fetch in October during Frieze week in London. The acid test begins Friday evening, October 17, at Sotheby’s and continues over the weekend with further sales, including at Phillips and Christie’s.

While there are no safe bets — not even blue-chip works — in this incendiary climate, the one thing we know is that no matter what unfolds, the London sales will set the psychological tone for the much larger New York sales taking place in November.

Lucian Freud, Francis Bacon (Christie's Post-War and Contemporary Sale, London, October 19, Estimate 5,000,000 - 7,000,000 GBP)

Auction Results -- Sotheby's Contemporary Art Evening Sale, London, October 17

2008-10-19T17:54:00.001-07:00

Just a few lots below, from the 69 that went up at Sotheby's on Friday, most of which fell slightly short of the estimate or sold within the lower part of the range. I'm very curious to see how the NY sales fare next month, in light of these results and our largely growing economic crisis:

Lucian Freud, Strawberries
Estimate: 250,000 - 350,00 GBP
Sold: 229,250

Gerhard Richter, Abstraktes Bild (R07)
Estimate: 3,000,000 - 4,000,000 GBP
Sold: 2,841,250

Rachel Whiteread, Pressed
Estimate: 120,000 - 180,000 GBP
Sold: 109,250

Damien Hirst, Beautiful Jaggy Snake Charity Painting
Estimate: 100,000 - 150,000 GBP
Sold: 115,250

Looking at Art -- De Young Museum

2008-10-18T18:32:00.000-07:00

"Self-Portraits" taken by my old friend Mike Aracic, October 2008, De Young Museum, San Francisco.

Quote of the Week - Jeanne-Claude

2008-10-16T19:06:00.001-07:00

"After living in Paris we moved to the United States -- No, what am I saying, we didn't move to the United States, we moved to New York City!"

Jeanne-Claude at the Phillips Collection artist lecture, October 16, 2008 (photo taken afterwards at the book signing)

Christo & Jeanne-Claude at The Phillips Collection

2008-10-16T18:46:00.000-07:00

I just returned from a lecture by Christo and Jeanne-Claude at the Phillips, where their current exhibition, Over the River: A Work in Progress, is currently being exhibited. And what an amazing experience -- it reminded me of why I love (and miss) working in the art world -- the enormous personalities and ability by artists to see life in ways that escape most of us. And within this world, Christo and Jeanne-Claude are singularly remarkable; I can't think of anyone else who compares to them in terms of the parameters given to their projects and the devotion they outwardly show each other and their work. They spend upwards of tens of millions of dollars (all earned through the sale of drawings and collages of Christo's preliminary plans), hundreds of skilled laborers and engineers, and decades of planning, acquiring permits, and educating people along the way about their work and vision.

And the result -- fabric installations or wrapped objects - exist for merely 2 weeks before being taken down, forever. And if they had their way about it, they would be deinstalled after just 4 days. Amazing to me -- all of that work, money, and years of planning for a fleeting moment. Nothing is permanent (save for a few precious sculptures in museums collections around the world and the aforementioned collages). It's truly remarkable, and I was moved tonight when Jeanne-Claude, in her self-deprecating, witty and pointed way described the process of how she & Christo infuse into their art, as an aesthetic principal, "love and tenderness", which we have for our childhood, and for our own lifetime, which we know won't last forever. So when she looks at one of their completed projects, there is love and tenderness for that work, which is made more poignant and powerful with the knowledge that in just a few days it will no longer exist. In contrast with the oil paintings and steel sculptures that occupy our landscape, these ethereal artworks are indeed "precious" and fleeting.

To the point that I've tried to make in these posts about my own perspective about art -- that when you define "what is art", it's not about the object per se, but about "where" is art. Art exists, in opinion, in the experience of viewing. When a person is moved by a work of art, or disturbed by it, or inspired, or puzzled, or delighted, or even offended, that is where art is found. Christo said something tonight along similar lines -- that their art exists not only in the completed project, but in the process of completing it, in the process of decades spent trying to obtain the necesary permits, and in the minds and souls of both the people who support their work and of the people who want to stop them. Basically, it's in the experience of it.

My two favorite works are pictured above -- Running Fence, of which the west end literally dives into the Pacific Ocean by 1/4 mile (knowing that the work continued beyond a person's ability to see it absolutely thrills me) -- and Reichstag in Berlin, because of the visceral polarity between the rigidity and formal structure of the building and the soft and sensual quality of the fabric.

This post is dedicated to my late graduate school professor and thesis advisor, Doug Adams, who worked with and absolutely adored Christo and Jeanne-Claude. You are missed.

Market Update - Sluggish Sales at Chelsea galleries

2008-09-29T19:27:00.000-07:00

As reported by Katya Kazakina for Bloomberg today, as the Dow Jones fell 777 points, the single largest point drop ever:

Joel Sternfeld's panoramic photos of Manhattan's High Line railway and Yellowstone National Park have been acquired by Morgan Stanley, Deutsche Bank AG and ING Belgium SA. His new large-scale color prints capturing the seasonal changes of a field in central Massachusetts are having a tougher time finding buyers. The turmoil in the financial markets appears to be keeping clients from doling out $50,000 for Sternfeld's 5-foot-by-7-foot (1.5-by-2.1-meter) works exhibited at Luhring Augustine gallery in Chelsea, New York's hub for contemporary art.

``The response has been slow,'' says Natalia Sacasa, the gallery's senior director. Six out of 13 works have sold since the show opened on Sept. 6. ``There isn't the frenzy we all have become accustomed to.''

In Chelsea, sales are more sluggish and art buyers increasingly cautious as the financial sector reels from losses. While dealers say it's too early to tell whether the art bubble has burst, there are signs that the market is becoming more attractive for buyers and less favorable to sellers.

``My clients are sitting tight and they want to see what happens in the next six to eight months,'' says Cristina Delgado, a New York-based art adviser. ``The prices for young and emerging artists have to come down to adjust to a new economic reality.''

Joel Sternfeld, East Meadows, Northampton, Massachussetts, 2006

Jenny Holzer commission for the Guggenheim

2008-09-25T16:17:00.001-07:00

Everyone has been talking about the Jenny Holzer site-specific light projection commissioned for the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, which was unveiled this past Monday evening at the completion of a 3-year museum renovation. I have always admired her work, which is known for its witty and provocative manipulation and compilation of the written word. This particular piece will include her own writing as well as excerpts from other texts, including “Tortures,” from the View with a Grain of Sand by Wisława Szymborska. It will be projected every Friday evening through the rest of the calendar year.

Jenny Holzer, For the Guggenheim, 2008

Quote of the Week - Ellsworth Kelly

2008-09-24T12:10:00.000-07:00

"It's better, because it exists;"

"it's the best...until I do another one."

Ellsworth Kelly, commenting on one of his paintings, Blue/White, as it's being installed in the permanent collection of the Grand Rapids Art Museum, Fall 2007.

Richard Avedon at the Corcoran

2008-09-22T19:45:00.000-07:00

Has anyone else seen this show? Thoughts? I wasn't sure -- and actually felt a bit underwhelmed after walking through the exhibition last week. I had seen Avedon's famous fashion photographs in San Francisco at Fraenkel Gallery several years ago, which I LOVED, and these "portraits of power" at the Corcoran here in Washington were obviously a bit different in both subject matter and purpose. The walls of each gallery were lined with small photographs of everyone ranging from Barack Obama (2004) to Dorothy Parker (1958) - the comprehensive scope of which was somewhat at odds with the idea of a few people in power over many others. Most of them were taken from the waist up, or just the head, some were emotionally expressive, others weren't. After a while my eyes glazed over -- until I reached the outside hallway where 5 large scale pictures were placed side by side, each taken almost full-length, and installed high enough on the wall so that each person's eyes were looking down at mine. I finally stopped my meandering and became transfixed by the images. They were riveting - especially of Rose Kennedy, whose slim and frail figure belied the power of her gaze which spoke of generations of family, legacy, tradition, and a lifetime of experiences much beyond what I could comprehend standing before her.

One of the Washington Post reviews last week was a bit scathing - questioning whether or not the pictures spoke of "inner truth" or perversity. And others have questioned the Cocoran's motivation behind mounting such a wide-appealing and perhaps commercial show (vis-a-vis Ansel Adams), particularly because of their impoverished financial situation. Interesting questions to ponder.

Richard Avedon, Dwight D. Eisenhower, 1964

Richard Avedon, Rose Kennedy, 1976

Looking at Art -- MoMA

2008-09-17T20:18:00.001-07:00

Continuing to look at pictures of people looking at art....this photograph was taken by my fellow blogger Ashleigh (thank you again!!), who liked it because of how the woman is standing; you can almost feel how perplexed she is about the work in front of her.

Museum of Modern Art, NYC, February 2008

Gregory Crewdson

2008-09-17T19:50:00.000-07:00

The first time I saw a Crewdson photograph, several years ago in one of our contemporary corporate collections, I was struck by the eerie yet peaceful quality of both the composition and the subject matter. How had the artist achieved such a strange and perfect balance? Later I learned that all of his work is choreographed and staged, in either an interior stage set or on location, with a deeply articulated philosophy behind the finished product.

In this recent interview with Crewdson, we get a glimpse into his creative process and perspective, which encompasses all of the reasons why I love contemporary art so much. He describes how his work presents a tension or "collision" of diametrically opposed values, between the familiar and the strange, and the mysterious and the beautiful. And when those values come together, there is a "moment of grace" - an alignment between subject and artist - and I would argue - between artwork and viewer - because of the very nature of tension and the energizing movement required to resolve it.

Jeff Koons at Versailles

2008-09-17T19:18:00.000-07:00

This is fun - diary entry from ArtForum's "Scene and Herd" about Jeff Koons' current exhibition at Versailles (comprised of 17 works, none of them new, Split Rocker belonging to French billionaire Francois Pinault, one of the show's patrons), which has caused quite the uproar and buzz of excitement around town - Hoover vacuum cleaners in the chateau?! Inflatable plastic beach rings along the fence?? 40-foot tall flowering head of a rocking horse plopped in the flowerbed of the Orangerie gardens?? I think the entire affair is just delightful. And I can't help but giggle at the sight of one of my favorite Koons pieces, Balloon Dog, standing so proudly in the baroque space surrounding it.

Jeff Koons, Split Rocker, stainless steel, soil, geotextile fabric, internal irrigation system, and live flowering plants (shown installed at Avignon, 2000)
441 x 465 x 426 inches

Other photos from the Versailles show opening (Koons pictured second from the left)

And the verdict is...

2008-09-16T20:25:00.000-07:00

A huge success for Hirst and Sotheby's - on the same two days in which we witnessed the horrifying plummet of the US financial markets and collapse of some of our largest investment institutions, the world's highest paid living artist broke auction records for the sale of his work, as reported in Artinfo.com, a net of $200 million dollars. Unbelievable!! And what a precedent he has set, for himself, his gallery, and other single-artist auction sales to follow, as well as a reassurance to all that the art market is still strong and standing.

Now, our eyes turn to the major New York sales coming up later this Fall:

November 11, Contemporary evening sale, Sotheby's
November 12, Contemporary day sale, Sotheby's

November 12, Post-War & Contemporary evening sale, Christie's
November 13, Post-War & Contemporary morning and afternoon sales, Christie's

Stay tuned...

Damien Hirst, Psalm 31: In Te, Domine, Speravi, 2008

In other news

2008-09-15T18:51:00.001-07:00

Philippe Vergne started work today as the new director of the Dia Art Foundation. His first order of business, according to an interview he gave ARTnews this month, will be to find a permanent exhibition site within Manhattan, after its Chelsea galleries shut down in 2004. Vergne is the successor to Michael Govan, who left Dia in 2006 in order to head up LACMA and revitalize their contemporary collection. All eyes will be on him to see if he can fulfill the foundation's longstanding wish to have a permanent presence in NYC in addition to its world-renowned contemporary art space in Beacon. His biggest challenge may be funding, as Dia's largest benefactor and board chairman (who donated the $30 million necessary to purchase the Nabisco warehouse in Beacon) has also recently departed. Hopefully other patrons will rally around this remarkable foundation to assist in its reestablishment in NYC, after the gift of Beacon to those of us in the art world who have never seen contemporary art installed so perfectly - in the context of immense space, tranquility, and minimalism - the way it should be viewed. Best wishes and good luck!!

More buzz about the Hirst auction

2008-09-13T18:52:00.001-07:00

The sale is expected to net $120 million, but will anything short of that amount signal a larger decline in the art market? And what does it mean that Hirst is auctioning off new works, made within the last 2 years, as opposed to selling them through a gallery? I wonder how White Cube feels about it.

Viewing Rothko

2008-09-13T17:36:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about the Rothko room at the Phillips Collection since I first saw the space about six months ago. I can't seem to get it off my mind....which means it's time for a second visit. It's rare that an artist commands the installation of his or her work in a museum, especially within a permanent collection which normally is the pride and joy of a senior curator, and so this room is quite extraordinary. The floorplan was organized by Mark Rothko in 1960 for his benefactor and museum founder, Duncan Phillips, with the intention of providing visitors with the best possible environment to view his paintings. He wanted the large canvases to be installed in a "small, intimate space - in a scale of normal living - so that they would overwhelm the walls, saturating the room with color and sensation." The gallery would have one door, a simple bench in the center, and the paintings to be hung low to the floor.

So that when visitors enter the room, like I did earlier this year, they couldn't help but want to sit down on the little bench and let the paintings take over the space, and eventually, their sensations, just as Rothko intended. This viewing experience, as well as Rothko's very intentional planning for this room, reinforces my personal point of view about art - that when we talk about art, it's not necessarily about what "is" art, but where it is. In this small gallery, sitting on a humble bench, art is present - within the space between the paintings and the viewer, as well as between the artist and the viewer - knowing that in that moment, Rothko's hopes and vision for the experience were being fulfilled.

When the Rothko Chapel in Houston opened 32 years ago, it was inaugurated with an small evening reception - lit solely by candlelight - as told to me by a professor in graduate school who had attended. Imagine viewing one of these luminous paintings by the flickering light from a candle - adding movement and dimension to the cloudy, layered spaces in the margins between each color field. The intersection between art and spirituality, embraced within this chapel that night, perhaps fully realized.

Rothko room, Phillips Collection, Washington DC

7 years later

2008-09-11T18:18:00.000-07:00

I lieu of my own words, here is an op-ed titled "Lost Horizon" that was posted today in the New York Times, written by artist Ed Ruscha:

WHEN the 9/11 attacks took place, I thought of this photograph. I’d taken it many years before — on my first visit to New York, in 1961, in fact — but I looked for it anyway. It reminded me of Lower Manhattan, the twin towers, and then, of course, of their absence.

The view is from the back of the Staten Island Ferry. I remember it as the first all-American moment of my life, looking at the Statue of Liberty while eating a hot dog. I also remember the Financial District skyline, which appeared to me to be forlorn and empty, as if you could feel the buildings that were supposed to be there but weren’t.

I’d come to the city from Oklahoma and I was on my way to Europe. Then, as now, New York seemed a delicious place to visit, but not somewhere I could live. It was too big, too expensive, too accelerated. There was no way I could carry a two-by-four across town.

But it was an inspiration. I walked around with my Yashica camera, filled with black and white film, shooting whatever interested me: bricks, the street in front of my hotel on 34th Street, the old-fashioned scissor fence in this picture.

For me, it’s that scissor-gate on the back of the ferry that dates the image. It comes from another time. A slice of history that goes way back.

But everything else seems modern, up-to-date. When I look at the picture, which is over my desk in Los Angeles, I look for the towers, even though I know it’s impossible for them to be there. It’s hard to look at a photograph of that part of the city, no matter when it was taken, and not want to see them.

Market Boom

2008-09-11T17:46:00.000-07:00

Life is ironic. Business had been slow for almost a year at the art advising company at which I worked in San Francisco, following the tragic death of one of our busiest and most beloved clients. But yet we carried on, eagerly anticipating the next major painting to be offered our remaining clients by a dealer, and wrapping up the installation of our largest corporate contemporary art collection. Paintings and other artworks came to our attention in bits and spurts, and when they did, we were elated and quickly became busy with the art (and minutiae) of making the deal; and when they didn't, we returned to reorganizing our library and assembling private collection catalogues. Then in 2005, when I reluctantly left the company in order to begin the cross-country move with my husband, the art world witnessed the biggest market boom in recent history - the Chinese art explosion. And I missed it, entirely.

So for the past several years I've been reading, watching, and keeping an eye on the evolution of the art world in China, and in Barbara Pollack's current article in this month's ARTnews she gives a good synopsis of the major developments. Following are some of the artists whom she references as being the most successful at auction, along with an example of their work:

Yue Minjun:

Zhang Xiaogang:

Liu Ziodong:

Liu Ye:

And finally Zeng Fanzhi, the most successful at auction, with Mask Series No. 6 (1996) selling at Christie's Hong Kong this past May for $9.6 million, the highest price ever paid for a Chinese contemporary work:

Hard to believe that Fanzhi's paintings - a mere 5 years ago - sold for under $50,000. Talk about a boom indeed.

The conversation about price speculation and the ensuing role of the 1,600 auction houses on mainland China, the tidal wave of artists in mass becoming elevated without critical review and selection, and the anticipated next steps of buyers in China beginning to look overseas for contemporary artwork continues to fascinate me.

First Up

2008-09-06T18:45:00.000-07:00

Love him or hate him (I'm still not sure) the work of Damien Hirst is first up for auction this month. Titled "Beautiful Inside my Head Forever", the sale will be held at Sotheby's in London, with evening sale scheduled for September 15. A recent article by Time Magazine art blogger Richard Lacayo includes an interview with Hirst where the artist talks about his infamous and terrifying glass tank works and influence of Francis Bacon.

Hirst is one of the most sought-after artists in the current art market and his works are among the most lucrative for today's auction houses. The sale should be note-worthy especially because some of these pieces we've never seen before, including several original paintings and butterfly collages that appear to be a progression of his assistant-produced spin paintings. Stay tuned.

Another season begins

2008-09-05T17:51:00.000-07:00

It's the beginning of the Fall season in the art world, when galleries re-open after a long haitus in August, dealers and art advisors begin reconnecting with clients, artists prepare for their first showings, wine bottles are opened, invitations for galas and luncheons pour into collectors' mailboxes, calendars are organized for the season ahead, and everyone is waiting in anticipation for the art fairs and auctions coming this Fall when the market is tested, paintings and other objects trade hands, and careers are made or broken. Already critics have begun chronicling the goings-on in their various communities, such as writer Paul Klein in Chicago, whose Art Letter should begin appearing regularly in the Huffington Post. It's an exciting time.

Looking at Art -- In the Eyes of the Beholder

2008-09-04T18:11:00.000-07:00

Another perspective I plan to include in my blog are images of other people observing art - because everyone's experience is unique unto themselves. Some people sit and look, others walk by, others stand, some draw, or take photographs, some stay, some go. These posts will be my nod to Thomas Struth's investigation along similar ideas.

Georges Seurat, A Sunday on La Grande Jatte, 1884, Art Institute of Chicago, 2006

Ryan McGinness at the Museum of Modern Art, New York, 2004

Gustave Caillebotte, Paris Street; Rainy Day, 1877, Art Institute of Chicago, 2007

Into the Blue -- Yves Klein

2008-09-02T21:12:00.000-07:00

I fell in love with the work of Yves Klein not because of the varying subject matter or medium, but because of the drenched, intoxicating color that he virtually invented, inspired by the lapis lazuli pigment used to paint the Virgin Mary's robes during the Renaissance, named International Klein Blue (IKB). It is impossible not to get lost in this space, framed and contextualized by color alone, and then to work your way back out of it, perhaps changed, perhaps not, but either way, affected by it.

Yves Klein, IKB 191, 1962

The irony of beauty

2008-08-22T20:17:00.000-07:00

One of the aspects of the art experience that I find most interesting is the tension between the physical beauty of a composition and the darkness of the subject matter. Take these two paintings of Mao Zedong for example (brought to mind by the Beijing Olympics, which in itself is a bit ironic - who can forget the beautiful voice of the little girl singing the national anthem at the opening ceremonies, which turned out having belonged to another little girl, who was deemed by the Chinese authorites as not being pretty enough to sing it in person??)

The figure of Mao is problematic - a communist dictator who persecuted and oppressed the people of China and began a dark chapter in this vast country's great history. But yet these two paintings are technically "beautiful" to observe - Warhol turns Mao into a pop icon, similar to his portraits of Marilyn Monroe and Elizabeth Taylor - and instantly we smile at this man's face, which normally should make us uneasy.

And Kiefer reminds us of the natural beauty and grace of flowers in abundance, even while they are thrown (all 1,000 of them) at the feet of a dictator, shown here in a Hitler-styled posture that brings to mind another set of sorrows. So here we are, as viewers, caught between the beauty and the darkness - and where do we go? Where do our minds and souls rest in between this tension? How do we resolve it internally? This is where I believe "art" resides - in this dialogue - in this relationship between us and the painting, us and the artist, and within ourselves.

Andy Warhol, Mao

Anselm Kiefer, Let a Thousand Flowers Bloom

Finding spirituality through art

2008-08-08T18:15:00.000-07:00

Before I can begin discussing artworks in this blog, I'd like to put some parameters around my own concept of art and its relationship to the spirit (the soul). Because the definition of "art" varies depending on with whom you're talking, where you're looking at it, and how it's being perceived. It's been debated, discussed, written about, lectured on, and defined by scholars, art critics, dealers, curators, auction house professionals, gallerists, collectors, professors, and artists themselves. So what is it? I don't think anyone has agreed upon one particular definition - but here is my interpretation - formulated during the time I wrote my master's thesis:

Art exists in the space between the artwork and the viewer. It is a movement, a cause and effect, a relationship. It happens when an artwork (painting, sculpture, text, music, etc) causes movement in the viewer - makes them stop what they were doing, stand, look, observe, think, contemplate, consider, debate, become energized, sad, happy, enlightened, disheartened, humbled, encouraged, etc. At some point the soul (heart, mind, etc - however it's experienced by that individual) is moved - put into motion - and is restored to itself or energized from within. From that place of restoration and energy, the soul is then lifted upward to a new place of understanding of either itself or the object being considered. That is art - or rather - that is where art exists.

So for me, for my first post about the meaning of "spirituality through art" and my observations thereof, I will share this image of Tintoretto's masterpiece, which I viewed for the first time in Venice in 1997. It literally stopped me in my tracks, forced me not only to look, but to "see" with my mind's eye the real, historic suffering of Jesus Christ - through not just the Protestant cerebral understanding of what Christ's death symbolizes - but what Jesus, the man, actually went through during his physical suffering and death, as Tintoretto so dramatically brought to our attention. In other words, it actually happened -- and this is what it most likely looked like -- a very real crucifixion in a larger context of onlookers, executioners, mourners, witnesses, and landscape, including heaven's response through the darkened skies above.

And in this process of my own spiritual conversion while viewing this painting, I also experienced a deep and powerful understanding of both the power of an artwork (either religious in subject matter or not) and an individual's ability to receive this artwork and be moved by it. The experience changed my life forever; it led the way towards my confirmation in the Catholic church a year later, and opened the door to a new journey for me in which I began my graduate work and career exploring theology, art history, art theory/aesthetics, philosophy, and the trials and tribulations of the art market. It has been and continues to be quite an adventure.

Jacopo Robusti detto il Tintoretto, Crucifixion

Art through the eyes of my son

2008-08-03T11:50:00.001-07:00

"God, where are you?" asked my 3 year old son, as we were walking through the National Cathedral this morning before mass. It was only his 5th of 6th time accompanying me to church, and as we had approached our destination in the car, in order to make the experience a bit more accessible, I had told him that we were headed to church to say "hello" to God. So I guess his question was the natural, logical progression from my set-up: "God, where are you? We're here to say hello to you!" We wandered through the maze of small stone stairways, which were tucked away from the main corridors, and into the little chapels, prayer alcoves, and various altars. Eventually we made our way down into the crypt where we continued our journey. In one quiet chapel, set aside by the cathedral for meditation and personal prayers, my son somehow instinctively said "No loud noises, Mama", as if he had known instantly the spiritual purpose of this room, to which I smiled and giggled as I watched him slowly make his way towards the back wall where a colorful mosaic stood waiting for him.

As we approached the last few destinations in our quest, we stumbled across a little nook marked for prayers of The Good Shepherd. Above a little altar was a sculpture - a stone relief of Jesus as a young man, lovingly holding a sheep in his arms, and gazing down at us. My son looked at me with great concentration and said quite seriously and simply, "This is where God is sitting". I almost fell on the floor - because as he said it - I felt an immediate sense of the holy spirit enveloping us both. And what does Christ say? When 2 or more are gathered in His name, that is where church resides. For me, this morning, in that quiet and humble nook, in that sacred fleeting moment with my son - that was my worship service. Through his eyes, I could see.

My blog

2008-07-30T19:54:00.000-07:00

My love for art began over the course of several years as a young girl, when my grandmother took me on regular visits to the Legion of Honor in San Francisco, the Berkeley Art Museum, and various galleries around the Bay Area. We spent many afternoons in her backyard, painting together with a blank canvas, some acrylic tubes and brushes, and thoughts of Monet on our minds.

Many years later, I spent a summer in Italy with my sister, studying art and painting again. Over the course of our time there, I realized that this subject was more than a passing interest; it was to be my life-long passion. And so upon returning to San Francisco after our trip, I picked up the phone and called Christie's Auction house and landed my first internship. My career had begun. I subsequently held positions as an art curator at my graduate school in Berkeley, where I studied art history and theology, then as an event coordinator at the San Francisco Museum of Art, then on the board of directors at Visual Aid, a non-profit organization dedicated to helping artists with HIV/AIDS and other illnesses, and finally worked for an art advisor managing private and corporate contemporary artcollections.

This stretch of years spent working and volunteering in San Francisco essentially came to an end when I moved across the country (not once, but twice) and started a family along the way. My passion remained with me, and I have found myself continuing to study and think about art, the ways in which art can lift the spirit, invoke a larger sense of ourselves and our place in the universe, and remind us that we are linked together by experiences greater than our individuality.

So in this blog, I hope to continue the journey and begin connecting with the art world in Washington, making observations and investigating the galleries and museums that sit in abundance here. I hope my posts will be fun, thought provoking, and insightful, that my comments reflect my interest in how we look at art, from a spiritual and intellectual standpoint, and what happens within that aesthetic experience, which both connects us and grounds us in our unique ideas and thoughts.

Thanks for reading.