The end of art fairs is nigh"In contemporary art, this is the decade of the fair, as the nineties were the decade of the biennial. Collectors, with piles of money, have displaced curators, with institutional clout, as arbiters of how new art becomes known and rated, and therefore of what it can mean: less and less, after qualifying as the platonic consumer good."
The above is from Peter Schjeldahl's excellent piece on Art Basel Miami Beach in the current New Yorker magazine.
Schjeldahl starts by making the above, by now worn-out, point that the legion of art fairs that have popped up in the last few years have become the centralized, easy way to go see and buy art.
But then he begins to go somewhere "new," or perhaps just ahead of everyone else. He sets it up by relating that:
"Mutual intoxications of art and money come and go. I’ve witnessed two previous booms and their respective busts: the Pop nineteen-sixties, which collapsed in the long recession of the seventies, and the neo-expressionist eighties, whose prosperity plummeted, anvil fashion, in 1989."Once this historical ground has been planted, he then gives us an insight on the financial importance of fairs to art galleries:
Fairism (if you will) is inexorable, given today’s proliferation of galleries (hundreds in New York’s Chelsea alone). No one with anything else to do can more than sample the panoply. “Fairs are important for big galleries,” the gallerist Marian Goodman said to me. “For small galleries, they’re vital.” I asked many dealers how much of their annual income comes through fairs. Answers varied from ten per cent to “well over half,” spiking in the range of a third. Beyond that, nonparticipation may be suicidal, risking losses not only of revenue but of artists whose loyalty depends on how gamely they are promoted. The dealer Brooke Alexander said, “The art world is so event-driven these days that if you don’t take part in the major fairs you almost don’t exist in the public mind.”And then the disection of fairism truly begins with:
The typical contemporary-art object, judging from Miami Basel, is well crafted, attractive, interesting enough, and portable...These impressions might fade if you focussed on any particular work, but fairs destroy focus. Thousands of works coexisted cozily in Miami, sharing a pluralism of the salable. Talent counts; ideas are immaterial... A decade ago, much new art was eyebrow-deep in critical theory. Now it seems as carefree as a summertime school-boy, while far better dressed. I found relief from the convention center’s crushing elegance at the alternative fairs — with names like NADA, Pulse, and Aqua — where galleries featured the scrappily zestful ingenuity of kids who haven’t had time to forget why they became artists: for joy, revenge, and camaraderie.And then he begins to introduce the historical bubble:
It seemed that almost everyone was selling out of almost everything. “It’s incredible. No one questions price. They pay whatever is asked,” said a dealer friend who, with a discretion that used to be common in the art dodge, requested anonymity. Who are the collectors? Hedge-fund wizards are routinely mentioned. So are cohorts of Europeans, Russians, Asians, and Latin Americans. The startling costliness of recent art from China, much of it pretty bad, proves that the market is international as never before. People who were eager to deny the obvious — that the runup in art prices is a bubble headed for a spectacular correction — all cited this factor to me.The fact that the art market is headed for a correction is pretty much a certainty, as it has happened many times before, just like any other "goods" market and anything that fits the Kondratiev wave theory. But the idea that the coming art market correction may deal a harsh and potential death blow to the art fairs extravaganza may be a new one and a fun idea to discuss and speculate.
Schjeldahl finishes with a funny visualization:
One day, perhaps soon, someone in a convivial group of money guys at a bar will say, “I just got back from [name of art fair]. It was fantastic!” Another will drawl, “You still into that?” In the ensuing embarrassed silence, the bubble won’t burst; it will vanish.Read the New Yorker piece here.
