I always feel existential when I finish bodies of work and I’m in the pitching phase. Not only looking forward to making new work, but the angst of showing it to art dealers and gallerists. It’s exciting to be on ArtNet and work with Martha Takayama. I’ve also dropped off packets around town. I’m waiting. Hoping for a call. I really don’t know what I’m waiting for. I know I want some sort of gallery with some sort of sales record. I don’t just want to put up the photos on a white wall and find out later that nothing at the gallery has ever sold, or that the gallery doesn’t have any collector base.
Friends keep on reminding me that I shouldn’t be so focused on the business of art. I should just make the work. Yet I’ve constantly found myself in a place, where I can’t make the work, because I haven’t focused on the business.
Art is commodity. Now more then ever. I don’t even think anyone buys anything because they like it anymore. I feel like art just goes in drawers or hermetically sealed warehouses or in some magical vault somewhere after it’s been purchased from a jpg, does a collector even look at the work anymore or just listen to their blond hair, doe eyed consultant. This will be the year of Koons as New York Magazine points out. With two gallery shows and a massive retrospective. He was a Wall Street guy turned artist. He bought up old masters so he could study them and merge himself into the history of art. Almost like he’s afraid of being passed up by it. Creating plaster monuments that will, maybe – stand the test of time. I don’t think art should always have meaning. Or stand for something. It should be pretty. But I do think the artist should actually make the art. Koons always feels like an art director. From having someone else shape his balloons to a team running the CAT scan.
Yes, the eye is important. But sometimes I feel sidelined because I actually believe I should make the work. That I have to use my gumption to build and craft it – that I hit the very limitations of my reality and have to push them forward. Studios have always existed and even the old masters hated painting hands. Yet I feel like they never grew to employee hundreds of people, who all made the work. Then plugged it into the consumer behemoth. Read the rest of this entry »