Daniel Joseph Martinez, Divine Violence, 2007, installation view, The Project, New York, automotive paint on wood panel, dimensions variable

Steven Squibb writes about the Whitney Biennial, at ArtCal Zine,

Much has been made of the supposed theme of the show, ‘lessness,’ as though the works on display were trying to provincialize and impoverish themselves to the point of barely existing at all, thus opting out of the various economies currently striating the field. Quite frankly, I don’t see it. Only one artist, Seth Price, seems to be actively engaged in such a performance of self-marginalization and, given the specifics of his situation and his work, it is altogether interesting and meaningful for him to do so. The rest seem to be arguing, sometimes softly, to be sure, but sometimes quite loudly, that there might be more at stake at the present moment than a public demonstration of their own righteousness with regards an overheated market and its corresponding discourse, and that, following perhaps the rest of us need to pull over in order to check the map.

The sentiment is well received, though one minor point of descent; Squibb doesn’t explain why Seth Price is the only artist who actively engages in self marginalization.  The work in the Biennial is about as gallery ready as you’re going to get, and while I don’t dismiss his work as a whole, I haven’t been able reconcile the conflict in labeling what he does as self marginalization when he shows at blue chip galleries, and moves his work through established channels of distribution, like ubuweb, EAI. It just doesn’t make sense.

In other Biennial reviews, probably the oddest position I’ve seen taken on the Biennial comes from portfolio.com’s Alexandra Peers,

In this shaky art market, collectors are searching more aggressively than ever for confirmation of their choices. And the Whitney’s endorsement of dealers matters more than ever because, as a whole, this Biennial is going to influence artists less than in the past because they aren’t traded much. Only about a fourth of the artists shown have ever sold a work at auction, even though most are established enough to have had such a sale. (More than half are in their 30s and 40s.)

Based on the above comments I’m not any further ahead in deducing why a downturn in the economy should mean that the biennial won’t influence artists as much, or why it follows that its endorsement will be more significant to dealers. Perhaps someone can explain this these art world nuances to me, because that’s one that’s lost on me.

Frederick Charles photograph of Joe Bradley’s installation at the Whitney at Time.com wins the award for least representative image of the Biennial. Any other shot in the museum would have included four or five works due to the nature of the exhibition design.

Looks like it’s Whitney Biennial day here at AFC. My own write up on the show will be posted later today, but in the meantime Richard Lacayo’s recent review prompted several hundred additional words on the subject.  Part of the reason for this, is that he does an excellent job of touching on all the major talking points of the show.  The critic begins with a thorough account of the Biennial and the difficulties curators Henriette Huldisch and Shamim M. Monin were likely to encounter — namely a history begetting negative reviews — and goes on to describe the aesthetic of the show while expressing some tripidation.

Like a lot of people, I also hate what the market has done to the experience of art, substituting the verdict of cash for every other judgment. But when I first heard that this year’s Biennial would be heavy on humble art, I winced. Small potatoes is a dish that the art world circles back to every decade or so, usually out of revulsion against a gluttonous market. The go-go gallery salesrooms of the 1960s led to the rise of deliberately unsalable performance art and earthworks. And the 1993 Biennial, the first to follow the Reagan-Bush era, featured work that its catalog solemnly promised “deliberately renounces success and power in favor of the degraded and the dysfunctional.

And then there is today’s wave of success-renouncing, degradation-favoring art, much of which takes the form of listless flotsam-assemblage sculpture, things built from chunks of Styrofoam, torn cardboard or bits of twisted wire. It’s piled together with some measure of deliberation, but who can tell how much? Its heart may be in the right place, but it emits an awfully faint pulse.”

Art made with the intent of rejecting the market can suck in its own unique ways, so it’s no surprise that it’s return should see an uneasy welcome such as the one above. It may be fairly obvious to state, but I would add that, unlike 60’s performance art and earthworks, from all outward appearances, humble assemblage, installation art, and performance doesn’t represent a less salable object in 2008. Even with the Park Armory space, by my count, close to 70% of this year’s Biennial artists have gallery representation, which can only mean that dealers are finding ways to make art ephemera of almost any kind appealing to collectors.

The question Lacayo and many others have on their lips is whether the unofficial Biennial theme of “lessness” amounts to much in the end. Not that this is necessarily the case of nay sayers, but I’ll admit that if the only thing I’d seen taking this approach was The New Museum’s Unmonumental and The Whitney’s Biennial, I’d probably have a fairly grim outlook on the prospects for art. Certainly these shows have given me pause, neither effectively displaying the work or necessarily even finding the best of it. By contrast, New York’s commercial galleries have been more successful this year launching unmonumental-esque shows. While the large size of the Biennial undoubtedly makes the job a little more difficult, Bellwether’s brilliantly organized three part exhibition series curated by Becky Smith and Joao Ribas could be no better testament to the success seen within the commercial world, as was Gagosian’s Beneath the Underdog, curated by artists Nate Lowman and Adam McEwen last spring. Notably New York Times critic Holland Cotter named this show one of the best gallery shows of the year.

Lacayo never definitively weighs in on the value of “lessness” (though it’s clear he’s not completely convinced), preferring instead to discuss the works he responded to. The critic stumbles a bit here though, leaving out a few assessments that would have been helpful to the evaluation of the work. For example, Lacayo does a good job at describing artist Heather Rowe’s sculptures as “wooden frameworks” with bits of broken mirrors and molding, that create “memory mazes” and comparing them to Gordon Matta Clarke’s sawed houses, but doesn’t ask how they compare with her other works. The answer to that question unfortunately is poorly. Oversized, and with less interesting due to a smaller amount of her trademark molding, painted, or mirrored crannies, these works simply don’t deserve the attention her exhibition at D’Amelio Terras in the summer of 2006 received. Similarly Lacayo discusses Joe Bradley’s colored canvases arranged in the shape of men without asking how they have progressed over the years. Again, the answer is not well. Personally, I’m sad to see his sloppily stretched canvases, and awkward colored surfaces be replaced with bright colors and techniques that make references that were already there such as Ellsworth Kelly and Joel Shapiro all the more obvious. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still seeing wavy canvas lines at the corners, but the irreverence seems to have been lost.

The angle of the above photograph suggests a relatively easy viewing of Robert Bechtle’s paintings, even though my experience while there was a visually distracted one.

Lacayo also mentions painter Robert Bechtle, one of the first photorealists as a notable in show, though no word on their placement in the gallery was given. The fact that these works practically disappeared amongst the bric-a-brak placed directly in front of them is no small point.

The only art work the Time Magazine writer openly questions is Agathe Snow’s 24 hour dance party, this year’s social performance/relational aesthetics target. Coincidently, while he describes the piece, Lacayo never names the artist, nor does he adequately describe the work, failing to mention the dance lessons she holds each day prior to the event.  With that said, I too have a hard time grasping why we should think about this kind of work as art, though I suspect if this came as part of an e-flux announcement as opposed to a Biennial appendage most of us would be less likely to attack it. To her credit, curator Henriette Huldisch gives one of the most concise and easy to understand explanations I’ve read to date on this work in the second half of an interview with Lacayo earlier that week “What art does is transform ordinary materials into something else. That’s what those artists are doing. They’re just using different kinds of materials.” Also despite all appearances, like anything else, you have to experience it to be able to comment on its artistic validity. As it turns out I missed this opportunity, the last lesson taking place March 14th, the party occurring, on the 15th. Next time I’ll have to plan these write-ups a little bit more in advance so I can speak about some of the events.

Seth Price, Installation view, 2008, Friedrich Petzel Gallery

Tom Moody on Seth Price,

Time Out, reviewing an earlier Price exhibit, quoted Marcel Broodthaers that art occurs “in the field of distribution,” implying that’s what Price is doing. Yet if “Dispersion,” the essay, has a point it’s that the distribution must occur within the art system because artists’ attempts to market directly to the public, or to the wrong public (i.e., music consumers) fail for lack of context, as in Duchamp’s effort to sell his rotoreliefs at a toy inventors’ fair. Thus, Price’s “dispersion” is through limited edition books at Printed Matter, pdf files on ubuweb, and sales to elite collectors at Petzel. The contradiction between the populist “dispersion” rhetoric and making broadly available commodities (”jpegs”) limited for the gallery trade isn’t a fatal flaw so much as tapping guilt-as-usual about participating in the system. Current curatorial practice demands that artists prove they’re not making work for selfish reasons and are helping The People, man.

Moody’s thoughts are worth some reflection, because he not only identifies the artist’s belief in  working within familiar art channels for distribution to occur, but points out that this “tapping guilt” in participating in that system is common. The post as a whole is an excellent summation of Price’s influences, and content, while also evaluating the success and failures of the exhibition.

I have only one minor point of disagreement; In an earlier paragraph Moody describes Disappearing In America, the text Price wrote to accompany the show, as having nothing to do with the exhibition. Given that the majority of the show focuses on the invisibility of the artist’s hand, and the removal of the body while performing an action of any kind, I can’t believe that the text detailing how to remove yourself from society has nothing to do with the show. The exhibition to my mind, is a literal depiction of that idea.

Those who wish to read the manuscript discussed can purchase Disappearing In America from Friedrich Petzel shortly (which I recommend — the book is beautiful, but still at the printers).  They can also  simply contact the gallery for “bootleg” copy/ PDF file at  info@petzel.com.

Image via archidose

Why is James Russell at Bloomberg News describing the New Museum architects Kazuyo Sejima and Ryue Nishizawa of Tokyo-based Sejima + Nishizawa/ Sanaa as “stars on the rise”? This is a firm that is responsible for the design of no less than five buildings on the same street as their Tokyo offices, each one, considered more skilled and successful then the previous. Their best known project, the 21st Century Museum of Contemporary Art Kanazawa, made them virtual super stars in 2004, if their work on the Christian Dior building Tokyo, hadn’t already. You don’t get too much bigger than these guys.

This complaint aside, Russell puts together some good opposing arguments to the New York Times glowing review of the new building.

Jeff Koons, Hanging Heart, 1994 - 2006, one of five versions, each uniquely colored, high chromium stainless steel with transparent color coating and yellow brass, 106 x 85 x 40 in. Image copyright Sothebys.com

Gossip doesn’t have to be as convoluted as Richard Johnson’s Page Six column on the reportedly unscrupulous collecting methods of Adam Lindemann nor should it be so inaccurate. The skeleton of this story, which appears only at the bottom of Johnson’s piece, lies in Lindemann’s 2006 purchase of the Jeff Koon’s sculpture Hanging Heart from Larry Gagosian for an unconfirmed 4 million dollars, and his November 14th resale of the piece to the same dealer at Sotheby’s for a record breaking 23.6 million. The background, as Johnson tells it, is full of unhealthy business relationships, and who knows what else.

“…Lindemann and dealer Larry Gagosian had a falling-out three years ago when Lindemann lured away two of Gagosian’s top staffers, Stephania Bartolami and Amalia Dayan (now Mrs. Lindemann), and put them into business in the short-lived Bartolami Dayan art gallery in Chelsea.” Setting aside the fact that no explanation is given as to why Lindemann should have any investment in “luring away” Gagosian employees (no speculation is offered on Ms Dayan’s desires at the time) Johnson parrots the characteristically imprecise words of Artnet’s Charlie Finch here, and in doing so repeats the same mistakes. This may seem like a small point, but I’m sure Bartolami gallery does not appreciate the suggestion that they’ve gone out of business, when they merely shortened the name after Amalia Dayan left the partnership, presumably due to her pregnancy and marriage to a billionaire.

According to Page Six sources (Artnet), the apparent betrayal resulted in Gagosian’s refusal to do business with Lindemann, though he eventually got over it when the collector’s wife persuaded the dealer to sell the newly weds Jeff Koon’s Hanging Heart, as a symbol of their love. Presumably a confusing anecdote preceding these details involving Larry Gagosian’s uninvited martini drinking, steak eating behavior on the Lindemann properties has something to do with all this, though God knows what.

Page Six goes on to report that the Koon’s sculpture was never taken out of the crate, the Lindemanns intending to sell the piece the entire time. While it’s probably true, Johnson goes on to attribute Larry Gagosian’s subsequent repurchasing of the work as a strategy meant to maintain “Koons’ status atop the art world and keep the price up for his future sales.” This might be a happy consequence of the purchase, but Johnson seems to forget that Mr. Gagosian was not the only man bidding for the piece, and need not have walked home with it. More likely, the dealer was bidding on behalf of a client, and media sources have reported as much; Artnet suggested Steven A. Cohen in their article published mid month and Forbes speculated upon Eli Broad early last week.

For this reason, the overstated assertions issued by one pagesix tipster that there is “an unwritten law against flipping” and that “No one will ever sell to Adam again”, should be taken with a grain of salt. Artists and dealers often keep track of who buys what, and will refuse to sell to collectors who act in ways that might destabilize the value of their art, but Lindemann’s sale of the Koons sculpture wouldn’t have had this effect given its high estimate. The real story — that the collector’s actions weren’t as noble as they were made out to be — makes the Lindemanns look more dishonest and smarmy than they did yesterday, but not too much more.

First two images via FFFOUND! at 12:00 am Monday Morning Left: Creepy Hands Kid, Right: And No More Turn Aside and Brood

Popular blogger Jason Kottke takes the bizarre position Friday that the group image blog FFFFOUND! represents the successful democratization of the web and a new form of art curating. Considering Kottke spends most the day selecting from the net himself, I find it odd he would think any mass curation tool overly effective when most things managed by crowds are mediocre. Underscoring this point, the first two masterpieces I saw on FFFOUND! — Creepy Hands Kid, and a woman posing in her underwear — [pictured above] exemplify images that have had the title art applied to them willie nillie. Nasty Nets, a group art blog, where art sometimes occurs, also provides a good example of how too many voices can water down the content of merit. To wit, Damon Zucconi’s post highlighting giant cell phone lodged in a car, certainly goes a long way in testing the notion that the Internet flattens heirarchy.

Kottke takes the concept of art curating further however, going on to observe,

In the case of FFFFOUND! and other RCOPIWSs, I would argue that these sites showcase a new form of art curating. The pace is faster, you don’t need a physical gallery or museum, and you don’t need to worry about crossing arbitrary boundaries of style or media. Nor do you need to concern yourself with questions like “is this person an artist or an outsider artist?” If a particular piece is good or compelling or noteworthy, in it goes.

I hate to be the party pooper on this Internet celebration parade, but one of the problems with this kind of curating lies precisely in the fact that very little background information is ever provided. I don’t always require it mind you, but it is useful to know the historical background on posted images, and the general background a reader might find from wikipedia isn’t necessarily sufficient. While I like the fact that art may reach more people via blogs and websites, you’re never going to convince me that there is an arbitrariness to the boundaries of style and media. I’ve seen enough bad design in the Fine Art World, and easy art championed by culture lovers, to be able to say with some certainty that the skill sets are not as transferable as they are made out to be.

Ryan Trecartin, I Be-Area, Installation view, Image copyright Elizabeth Dee Gallery

Why is every critic in the city giving Ryan Trecartin’s I Be-Area a positive review? “I Be-Area is worth the [1 hour and 40 minute] investment” Martha Schwendener tells us at the New Yorker, “Its the best thing that could have happened to New York this fall” writes the New York Times Holland Cotter, and Barbara Pollock at Time Out New York goes so far to say “he’s poised to become the next Matthew Barney.”

Sufficed to say I don’t agree. Don’t get me wrong, Trecartin’s newest work isn’t so bad — his quintessential look; carnival like characters and oddball scenes — remain in tact, but the work simply doesn’t live up his previous A Family Finds Entertainment (available on youtube here here here and here.) Of course, you’d think nobody had seen this video given the derth of verbiage on the subject. Of the I Be-Area reviews I’ve read only Flavorpill references his previous work, and you really can’t expect too much critical comparison from a filter publication promising positive reviews in a 100 word format — it’s simply outside of their mandate. (Disclosure: I write for Flavorpill.)

As for the rest, Holland Cotter offers the largest write-up, failing to ask the most basic questions about the new video. How has Trecartin’s work evolved since A Family Finds Entertainment? Does the improved production value of the videos benefit the piece? Are the videos more effective at a 40 minute length or the latest 1 hour 40 minutes. Will I Be-Area be posted on youtube or distributed by EAI now that it is an editioned piece?

These are fairly obvious questions that should come up if the reviewer is aware of the artists earlier work. I can’t imagine Cotter hasn’t seen his earlier videos — he clearly read Dennis Cooper’s Trecartin write-up in January of 2006 last year, or at least it would seem that way since he cites the same artists as influences, Kenneth Anger, Jack Smith, and early John Waters, in the same order. Notably, neither critic mentions Tom Rubnitz, the artist with the most affinities to the video pieces (and one Trecartin himself has listed on his youtube favorites,) or Paper Rad, a collective working in Providence, home also to Trecartin when attending art school. Nobodies perfect of course, but these influences seem so obvious it’s difficult to understand how they were missed.

Had such influenced been discussed, it’s possible we might have read less about how the 1 hour and 40 minute video holds the viewers attention, and more on why the shorter Trecartin pictures do this more successfully. For one thing, I suspect the length of the film influenced the scarcity of animation in I Be-Area, an element that referenced Internet culture in a much more specific way than any other visual attributes in the film. In addition, I’ve always thought that a point of strength in A Family Finds Entertainment lay in its ability to push a viewers attention span for loud aggressive video to its absolute maximum. I had to return three times to view I Be-Area in its entirety, and I still have holes in my viewing. This can’t speak well of the piece.

One final observation: No critic has discussed the sculptural installation in the front room of Elizabeth Dee Gallery, probably because there isn’t much point. A mess of props from the film consisting primarily of broken furniture, the work is indistinguishable from any other clusterfuck artist showing in New York.

It turns out getting a passport reissued represents a significantly larger time investment than it was last year when Canadian and American citizens didn’t require one to visit each other. As a result I’m currently posting from Canada while trying to rectify the situation. Not that I think you should give a shit about where I’m posting from, but I consider it a means of letting you know that circumstances beyond my control are limiting my posting abilities this week. The good news in all of this of course, lies in the fact that I will now be able to see Leonard Cohen’s early modernist representations of horses in person, and report back to you. Yes, thank God, coverage of that work has been secured.

In other news, Tom Moody has republished my review of New Media artist Cory Arcangel’s exhibition last year, opening the subject up for discussion once more. At the time of its publication my blog did not have comments open, and while I did receive several emails on the subject, I really appreciate the discussion that is currently developing on Moody’s blog. There’s a great variety of opinion expressed so far on the exhibition, and I for one, am learning a lot through the commentors on the thread, (though as Moody notes, we have not yet seen answers to the questions about this exhibition I posed last year.) Also see the thread on Intentional Computing, a Paul B. Davis exhibition at Seventeen Gallery in London, and this additional post on the two discussions.

Amy Ross

As someone who has an intense dislike for puns, perhaps I’m inclined to be critical of posts that land on blog titled ARTiculations, though frankly I can’t imagine a world in which Maggie Frank’s “Collecting Art on the Cheap” wouldn’t push a few buttons. The post as a whole dismisses sites like Jen Bekman’s still to be launched 20 x 200, a project that offers prints at 20 bucks a piece, using the argument that art collectors are people who are largely interested in acquiring social status.

I suppose this idea is common amongst those who have very little knowledge of the art world, (and indeed the site describes Frank as a journalist with a degree in art history specializing in the “average Joe’s” museum going experience) though problems with this line of thinking could have been identified rather quickly by taking the time to do a simple web search. The now famous Rubell Family Art Collection for example was initially built on very little money, and there are plenty more cases just like this. Also, what I find interesting about Bekman’s project is that in addition to appealing to those who simply would like some good art in their homes for a reasonable price, it targets an emerging school of intellectual elitism that matches itself with consumerism. These are the people who poo-poo the overly high brow, celebrate mass culture, and give props to those who are the best at culling the most valuable items within this spectrum. The ability to find designer like items for reasonable prices has never been so in vogue - even for those who are richer than sin.

Full disclosure: I have an ongoing professional relationship with Jen Bekman

Print available at The Lower Eastside Print Shop, (Artwork tip via: MAO), Ryan McGinness, Untitled (Blue Barbed Wire on White), 2007, screenprint, 48 x 32.25 inches image and sheet. Price: $3,000

Two days ago Allen Salkin wrote a piece for the New York Times titled Selling Himself and Prints Too, with the primary thesis that Pace Prints will build an additional location in Chelsea. I’m not sure why this should be so important that a two page article be written on the matter, particularly when what’s there reads like a giant advertisement for Pace Prints. According to the report, new comer Jacob Lewis convinced Pace Prints gallery owner Dick Solomon to make the move, and while Salkin doesn’t make explicit what rationale convinced Solomon, he does quote Lewis on the subject of the art market as saying, “for a couple of thousand bucks you can buy a print that may go up in value, rather than a purse or a pair of shoes that are just going to fall apart.”

I’ll believe that when I see it — I’m quite certain people buy the print AND the shoes — but that’s another post all together. This aside, the comment really serves to underscore the following: We should laud young Lewis as a genius who sold the “new” concept that prints not only have a market, but that that market is hip and fashionable. Lewis secures a solo show with artist Ryan McGinness for their inaugural opening as the epitome of all this, and the Times quotes Robin Cembalest at ArtNews on the subject who croons over the new director and the artist. “It’s a coup” she glows, and then runs down a list McGinness’s artist credentials.

McGinness isn’t a bad artist, but I don’t need to read about a show five months before its happened, especially since his mention serves only to re-enforce the idea of a trend setting collectors market. Probably the most annoying aspect of Selling Himself and Prints Too, reveals itself when Salkin presents the “opposing” view to the concept that print collecting is cool, managing to find some of the most inane commentary on the subject I’ve read. Says Helianthe Bourdeaux-Maurin, the associate director of the Williamsburg gallery Parker’s Box “Some people would rather spend $3,000 on a print by a big name than the same money on an emerging artist,” adding “Some people don’t want to be edgy.”

Jesus. Clearly these people who aren’t collecting emerging artists are simply ball-less.

Screengrab AFC

I haven’t visited any blog over the last week without seeing a link to Artworld Salon, the newest Internet site run by art news journalists. The most weighty of those links (due only to readership numbers) comes from Walter Robinson at Artnet, who calls the site “the new blog for art world insiders”.

Now, generally I find the print world in html form to be a fairly limited representation of the Internet, and while Artworld Salon has some good moments, (I liked their post on exhibition catalogs for example) as Anaba points out their general lack of web savvy leads to a lot of ignorant commentary on the subject. Witness Marc Spiegler’s and Ian Charles Stewart’s comments on ArtReview’s myspace blog.

My view is that the MySpace product looks amateurish, functions poorly and may be rejected by the MySpace community for invading their space under false pretences. (Ian Charles Stewart)

I’m not a MySpacer, but I’d hazard a guess that at this point they are pretty used to people hijacking their “community” for commercial purposes. And the magazine seems to have plenty of friends, including Hans Ulrich Obrist (or an e-impostor - judge for yourself here.) (Marc Spiegler)

Has Ian Charles Stewart even been on myspace? What false pretenses does he think ArtReview has? If you don’t have a myspace account it may be tough to grasp why people use it, but I would think that at this point most people have the basic understanding that users seek to increase their professional visibility as opposed to simply meeting friends and seeking a quick lay (in fairness Stewart does give artreview’s myspace blog credit as a PR device, though the comments above would seem to contradict that sentiment.) I frequently cite the fantastic 2nd Cannons, a publishing company located in LA, as a great example of the effectiveness of myspace networking tools, as I would have never found them as early as I did without the help of myspace. As press, I would think the folks at Artworld Salon would have particular interest in the tool as it can be used to find stories nobody else has. Myspace performs inconsistently on this level, but for this reason alone you simply can’t dismiss it.

Following this thread, Marc Spiegler goes on to condemn ArtReview for the design of their myspace page, saying, “Design wise, I’d say Art Review needs to take a look at how their MySpace page looks on a laptop. Right now, it requires all sorts of lateral scrolling and their logo is consistently covered up by random ads, including one for “THE BEST MODEL SITES!”

The level of snobbish condescension in this comment demands an annoyed retort from us, because while nobody’s going to defend myspace for its design - it clearly sucks - you can’t dismiss the value of a web tool on aesthetics alone. Ebay looks like ass, people still manage to sell $20,000 Warhol prints on the site, and it doesn’t effect the price of the print. Why should ArtReview be taken any less seriously because it decides to place more stalk in social networking and lump a cookie cutter design? What’s more, Artworld Salon is in no position to be commenting on website design, as they are working with one of the more uninspired blog templates on the web. I’m not a fan of the flash masthead as the slow fade in logo seems unnecessary, and the font Western-meets-computer-age renders two perfectly good styles horribly inelegant as one.

Spiegler’s comments however, seem to have less to do with design than a general disdain for the mixing commercial products with art. Those who find the site off putting for its snootiness will certainly find ample reasons to feel this way as this philosophy frequently rears its head on the blog. Author András Szántó for example, recently complained about a J. Crew ad featuring student art in the background, and an unrealistic depiction of clean artists in a studio. Personally, I find it refreshing that representations of artists have progressed to the point that we don’t all have to look as though we’ve just come out of some art battlefield. The glamorization of the artist may not be entirely positive, but I’ll take that over having to sleep on a futon the rest of my life because I can’t afford anything better.

Ultimately the reason I find the upturned nose of some within the “fine art” establishment so distasteful, lies in the fact that old fashioned ideas about how art should function, are almost always connected with the kind of lifestyle an artist should maintain. The price you have to pay to maintain that kind of life is unnecessary and frankly much too high.

Additional note: As anaba also observes it bears reflection that the artreview blog pretty much exclusively talks about art. This, to my mind, is the most important aspect of any websites in this field. By any standards, very little examination of art itself actually goes on at Artworld Salon.

I’m just going to say it: I don’t trust the opinions of Roberta Smith, and I don’t think she’s a great writer. Let me refresh the memories of the people who endlessly rain praise over her with a quote or two from her recent review of Eve Sussman’s The Rape of the Sabine Women. “Extravagantly beautiful, endlessly noble” she proclaims. Experiencing the film “is like eating a chocolate chip cookie made of nothing but the chips.”

Come on. Is this the New York Times, or Daily Candy? You’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel if all you’ve got are food metaphors.

Related: My thoughts on Sussman’s film here.

If critic Leslie Camhi at the Village Voice has read anything about Stan Douglas’s prior work, or even the press release, or wall text at The Studio Museum, why is she making statements like this about Inconsolable Memories,

“…The sometimes-blurry sound didn’t help; it seemed both the result of a technical glitch and part of an artistic strategy to frustrate comprehension.”

It’s a rather large oversight by both the writer and the editor to omit the fact that artist uses two reels that occasionally overlap. Douglas is well known for his interest in technology; this should have clued someone at the Voice in that the review is at best incomplete without mention of this information and at worst flagrantly inaccurate.

Aerial view, Dia:Beacon, Riggio Galleries, 2002. Photo: Michael Govan. ©Dia Art Foundation.

Why is Charlie Finch complaining about Dia Beacon’s low ceilings when the main space walls range from 16 to 26 feet high? And since when do “long vistas and a wooden floor” interfere with an art viewing experience? I can’t pretend to understand what rationale Finch has for the conclusions he draws — it’s not like it’s included in his write-ups — but I do know this: at least 50% of the opinions published in Artnet’s feature on Dia Beacon are wrong, and the rest are superfluous. Here’s an example:

“…the museum itself, cattycornered to the railroad station, breathes the slightly rarefied, snobbish Zen air that has always been the Dia Trademark. The cafeteria serves an excellent roast beef sandwich.”

Who knows what a roast beef sandwich has to do with art snobbery, but it doesn’t appear to matter in this review. As we are raking in the dough here at AFC we brought our own lunch to Dia this week, and ate it on the bench outside. We didn’t feel self conscious about it because the grounds seem to be set up specifically for this purpose - though I’m sure we would have if the museum was as snobby Finch suggests. We later joked with an artist who is also a guard at Dia Beacon about our desire to touch the art, which is a rarity in the snooty culture of museums.

Finch doesn’t let us dwell on this so called snobbery though, and moves from sandwich review to such critical art discourse as, “…Shockingly, an inventory of wooden Donald Judds reeks of Ikea, but Fred Sandback’s string cheese is charming.” Clearly scandalized by the connection between furniture and a Donald Judd, Finch fails to provide any groundwork to back his assertions. The fact of the matter is the Judds aren’t very good because they provide no entry point for the viewer; they are banal physically and materially. If the work actually reeked of Ikea, it would probably be better because at least the viewer would have a more interactive relationship with it. As for the Fred Sandbacks, the statement above makes the large assumption that the audience is familiar enough with the artist’s work to understand that the piece is not actually made of string cheese. This kind of sloppy writing is only made worse when he goes on to describe minimalist geometric string sculptures as charming. To be clear, a Jeff Koon’s Puppy Dog is charming, a strand of taut yarn in the shape of a triangle is not. This doesn’t mean the Sandbacks aren’t good, but you can’t pull blindly from a bag of positive adjectives and hope they work.

The rest of the review is rife with similarly lazy thinking, and glaring omissions such as the fact that majority of the building is lit exclusively by sunlight. This makes the art viewing experience at Dia exquisite, and to leave it out is an indication that the reviewer wasn’t paying attention when he visited the museum, or when he wrote the piece. And that’s a problem, because as a critic, that’s your job.