October 27, 2009 - I was thinking about several things, what is it about rich artists that makes me puke? It's the financing. Sigmar Polke has a lot of financing, his work looks rich and fancy. Same for Damien Hirst and his diamonds. The business of art is very much a business of the swells, the very folks who 2 centuries back would have been butchered by the rabble of Paris. Wealth comes in degrees not everyone rich is as rich.
Hencer brokers and gallerists serve the interests of the monied classes. After all paupers and peasants buy very little art. Into this mixture very special interests come into play. The resale dealer sells used art maybe with a dent or a scratch. Gagosian was a resale dealer I suspect he still is at times. I think the galleries are stores and also sort of temporary sanctuaries - whore houses I used to think but whore houses without enough customers, galleries may just be vanishing like VCRs and vaudeville. I remember seeing a Chris Burden show in Los Angeles , alot of documents were available snapshots of his arm wound from the shooting performance, you could see the white fats and tissue bulging out of the wound. It was a pretty cool show but I think it also had some resale elements and maybe it was Gagosian? Or Doug Chrismas? My memory ain't so fabulous as it was;so I have a very hard time with big money art,artists collectors etc. Maybe cuz I'm a lefty, like my Mom I don't see what war gains us. And an artist population never forms a community because we are so short on capital, nobody has much (a crappy art teacher gig for small potatoes salary)
Art is more reliable more the steadyman in this economic inversion. Value was an obsession for Nietzsche , how is it that we value things one thing more than another ? Nietzsche spoke of a new system of values, a values above values. The whole thing in art is how difficult it is to determine value. You also know that the whole question is what matters and what matters most? I think we create worlds, odd little worlds with different viewpoints. Like my mom listening to Fats Domino whilst ironing shirts I recall thinking I'll always remember this!! No sale the only sale.