I would like to extend my heartfelt apologies to the esteemed art dealer Jeremy Larner for mistakenly stating that he was the flipper of a work in the Phillips auction by Amoako Boafo, the thirty-six-year-old Ghanaian painting sensation. Or rather, in the proffered words of his lawyer: “In an article dated July 7, 2020, columnist Kenny Schachter stated incorrectly that Mr. Jeremy Larner had been involved in the purchase of a painting by Amoako Boafo from Sotheby’s and its subsequent re-sale by Phillips. This is false. We have confirmed that Mr. Larner is neither the purchaser nor the re-seller of the painting. We regret the inconvenience that our publication of Mr. Schachter’s false statements have caused Mr. Larner, and we offer Mr. Larner our sincere apologies.”
In my defense, I was told by three reliable sources that this was the case. I don’t take my job, and the due diligence it entails, lightly. Boafo, in his short career, has had sixteen works offered at auction, all in 2020, which let me remind you, we are barely more than six months into (though it admittedly feels like a million years already). Ten of those works were painted last year, five in 2018, and one in 2017. It is easier to understand my error when, after calling Sotheby’s (again) and Phillips to clarify my previous reporting on the subject, they both confirmed that Larner has been heavily involved in the resale market of Boafo. I wonder just how many of the auctioned Boafo works he himself consigned.
What did turn up, as I feverishly dug to get to the bottom of my error (till 3am last night), was that Larner did indeed sell at least one other Boafo that ended up at auction last week. In this instance it was a 2019 painting on paper (of artist Yinka Shonibare) that he bought for approximately $10,000 and resold for $100,000. That buyer turned around and put the work into auction yet again, only this time it hammered at $42,000 for a fat $58,000 loss. In all of about five minutes. This scenario is all too familiar and indicative of a more problematic market phenomenon—greedy art gambling. We are smack in the middle of a period of ubiquitous speculation that profits a select few to the detriment of the overall market; and worse, much worse, the livelihood of the very artists fueling it.
Funnily enough (that is sarcasm), the seller of the Boafo “Yinka” painting was also threatened with legal action by Larner after selling another painting that he had bought, which had previously been owned by Larner, and the subsequent buyer of that work was himself issued a lawyer’s letter from the litigious trader. There is obviously good reason for his well-earned sobriquet: “Lawsuit Larner”. I am tempted to quit the art world and apply for a full-time job as “of counsel” for Jeremy. On a more serious note, this type of strong-arm tactic is meant to stifle freedom of speech and hamper the expression of criticism. It’s also but one of the many instances where I have been threatened with lawsuits and worse, bodily harm and death. Silly me, I came into this world thinking art was fun…and life enhancing.
It doesn’t stop there. In this day and age when everyone is walking on eggshells and where the mere accusation of inappropriate behavior is enough to sully not only a reputation but careers and lives, Larner seems carefree when it comes to casting aspersions. Only a few months ago, he accused me of cheating on my wife in his Instagram Story after I last wrote about his aggressive Boafo art trading antics in a prior Artnet column, quoting the man himself from his recent interview in Bloomberg: “I’m selling off younger artists and buying blue-chip art. When things go back to normal, some of the emerging artists may no longer be in fashion… I just sold about a dozen emerging-art works, with prices ranging from $20,000 to $250,000. That included several works on paper by Ghanaian artist Amoako Boafo for $75,000 to $150,000 that I bought directly from the artist for $10,000 each.”
I know I tread a controversial beat in my journalistic endeavors, naming names of buyers and sellers and uncovering hypocrisies rife in the art world, but I am equally hard on myself and frequently highlight my own complicity in the shenanigans of the art market. But Larner is not alone in personally attacking me with scurrilous, patently untrue, allegations. When I outed Hilde Lynn Helphenstein as the person behind the Instagram meme account Jerry Gogosian in what admittedly wasn’t the most elegant or kind fashion, for which I later apologized, but that clearly wasn’t enough.
In a recent IG Live broadcast, after initially calling me Kenny Scharf (sorry Kenny), she said: “I’ve heard some pretty gross behavior that he participates in and I didn’t want to be associated with him.” Sounds like some ritualistic Satanic orgies or even worse, some form of sexual misconduct. None of which is true by any stretch. I have experienced numerous other occurrences of this type of retribution, including Oscar Murillo using an email account other than his own to anonymously accuse me of harassing a female artist who is a close personal friend of mine, after I had repeatedly criticized his art (the account turned out to be his sister’s; his subterfuge about as convincing as some of his paintings).
And there are even more (very) recent examples that are too tiring, or painful, to get into. Suffice it to say, I am getting pretty wary about continuing my column; but, as you can see, I can’t and won’t stop. Unless I get shot…which doesn’t seem as far-fetched as it sounds. The art world that we love and cherish is still with us, but is getting progressively drowned out (and buried) by the stampede of crass, vindictive, uninformed upstarts. It’s sad. For me anyway. That’s why I teach as it’s the only joy and solace I have left. Writing rarely offers this any longer.
Larner’s latest legal missive to me ended with the sentence: “We also seek appropriate disciplinary action against your columnist, which will be subject of further discussion after the article is retracted and the apology issued.” Reminds me of an art work I did in 2016 with my head on a child’s body on the lap of an adult in the midst of a firm spanking (albeit with a shit-eating grin on my face). Little did I ever expect a formal request to be publicly punished. Is this unseemly state of affairs, where at the slightest provocation retaliation consists of untoward, unfounded ad hominem personal attacks really what has become of us? Unfortunately, the answer is a resounding yes.