Well, I got tired enough of working from home and sad enough about everyone moving away from Stockholm when the curatorial masters is over that I’m starting a collective/organization for curators/art workers based in Stockholm. Our aim is to make exhibitions, be a sounding board for ideas, act as a shared library for both reading material and equipment, and to provide a support system for all young curators who want to take part. Found a great office space for SUPER cheap and now it’s just a matter of signing the contract, finding some furniture to fill our sunny 40 sq.m. room on gorgeous Birger Jarlsgatan and plan the moving-in party!
Sitting right now at a cafe getting all the paperwork together and as you can see my hair is being super spastic, looping all over the place.
I’m glad to soon say goodbye to expensive cafe lattes and have a real office to call home, not to mention all the exciting projects to come!
"What? A sculpture was damaged in transit? Let’s just say it’s supposed to look like that, that it’s about impermanence or fragility or some shit. Are you writing this down?"
"So you’d define your practice as operating in the intersection of …?" ZZZZ… So mentally checked out right now, art vocab on autopilot."
“It’s only 8pm on a Thursday. How many plastic thimbles of white wine have I had?”
"Yes I suppose I see how skateboarding around in the gallery for 6 weeks could be called relational aesthetics. What kind of budget are we talking here?"
Lots of new pins up on Curator Attire.
Gallery Girls, you slay me.
"In the last decade, art fairs mushroomed and became all-encompassing, fully comped VIP monstrosities and entertainment complexes for the one percent. So I went off art fairs. Way off. I’ve never told anyone this, but I hit my art-fair bottom at Art Basel, in Switzerland, where I was invited to be on a panel in the mid-aughts. I checked in alone to a hotel and had a meltdown. Feeling alienated, realizing a critic had no business there, intimidated by the socializing yet afraid to be excluded, I freaked out. I made up a story about an imminent death in my family, packed, and flew home early. I’ve been too scared to ever leave New York for an art fair again. But I’ve made peace with them. Last month I went to seven local fairs. I’ll go to Frieze and NADA in May. I’ll smile. I now like leaving my office and refrigerator, putting on real clothes, facing the larger world."
Jerry Saltz, on breaking down at an art fair.
I love that he wrote about this. But I call bullshit that he never told anyone.
(Source: New York Magazine)
"But now, all of a sudden, more art is coming from private places, looking almost outsiderlike, untaught, odd in ways that feel pressing, impatient, and important. In from the wilderness. A lot of it is smaller, made of less expensive or found materials, and more provisional, or at least bad in ways that aren’t so annoying. After too much art that made too much sense, artists are operating blind again."
Jerry Saltz, “Reject the Market. Embrace the Market.”
(Source: New York Magazine)
I’m glad to know that at 9:44am GMT on a Friday, Hirst’s studio assistants are hard at work and we can watch their labor through live-stream.
"Not everyone has the ability to differentiate between what is new and what is novel on the art market. This fact is mainly responsible for the confusion of the general public and the art world. Contemporary art objects have become a commodity. Today’s artistic manifestations are considered particularly modern or avant-garde the more they lack the power to arouse feelings of both emotional and intellectual satisfaction in the beholder. […] There are practitioners of the arts today who proclaim complacently that they love to be boring and, I agree, they succeed."
Richard Huelsenbeck, July 1966.
That’s right, 1966.
- NOWNESS: Tell us a secret about the art world.
- DANIEL BIRNBAUM: Nothing is hidden.
"Fail for me, but fail flamboyantly. Don’t fail the way we’re doing in Chelsea, which is mediocre. We can’t help it, because our airwaves are so expensive […] it gets out of scale in New York. And as a result we have great shows, but that’s all we have. Even if they stink, it’s always the same top of the Himalayas. You don’t know how high the mountains are unless you see the whole picture."
Jerry Saltz, to curators and artists at the Contemporary Art Museum in St. Louis
(On kind of a JS kick, please forgive me, I promise something else soon.)
"The art world had been academicized, and I’m afraid that we lost a generation of critics to the academic discourse. I believe in that discourse, because without it… women would not… there’s a… liberation philosophies and theories are part of that discourse — so never throw out the baby with the bath water […] We lost a generation that was afraid - I think it was fear - to simply put out opinion - to say, “I like this and this is why.” […] If you put out the reasons in a clear and articulate way… a generation is lost in language, seduced by the very high level, intense English translations of French theory, never read in their original. Which is fine […] The language is what became inaccessible and defensive and kind of authorative. The opinion is gone, the juice is gone, the life is gone, everything is gone. The taste of the fathers is worshipped by the children in this generation. A Freudian nightmare takes place. And this is no good. And it’s changing right now— right now — right now. I’ve been seeing it over the last four or five years that the language has been loosening up, and the language is smart."
Jerry Saltz, in his talk at the Contemporary Art Museum in St. Louis in October 2010.
If nothing else, he’s a very entertaining speaker. “We are all dark, but splendid. You understand?”“