The World Trade Center (WTC) disaster was sad, nauseating and unfathomable. After being brought to our collective knees, New Yorkers walk around with a continual knot in our stomachs wondering what will be next. We are gripped by fear for the futures of our children, and simultaneously are forced to digest information about conflicting reports on asbestos exposure. At the time of this writing, nearly six weeks after the attack our neighborhoods and homes (miles from the WTC) are intermittently overcome by an invisible remainder from the still smoldering site that manifests itself in an acrid, indescribable smell. The odor has caused many people to temporarily or permanently flee the city altogether. One thing is clear, although we are not told so by the local authorities, this scent must be carcinogenic. Experiencing the events of September 11th, for those that survived, was akin to a life threatening mugging; after the initial shock and scare fade, there is the residue of loss of a certain protected sphere of the body and mind. And, if you happen to ask someone directions on the street after being robbed, they jump three feet. That is how we all feel with each and every plane sighted overhead, and every loud noise from the street-this from a city characterized by a cacophony of unruly sounds. By erasing the towers and inducing a state of implausibility and heightened uncertainty, we are all walking around vulnerable beyond naked. Now passenger planes could be guided missiles, and regular mail is a delivery system for deadly anthrax. Maybe we were a bit too smug in our sense of security as the USA was caught sitting on its hands; and then, as Lichtenstein might have put it: POW! Life as we know it will never be the same. Though it is truly impossible to pick up where we left off, what else can we do?
Cynically showing a dark side of humanity akin in spirit but not in levels of destruction as the terrorists, immediately after the event street hawkers sprang into action selling appropriated, re-photographed images of people jumping from the towers to avert the heat, flames and smoke. Also available for sale, both on the street and in one hour photo shops, were pictures of the towers imploding. Additionally, not a bodega exists in the city that does not sport a newly minted postcard rack with glossy mementos of the towers standing tall as they once, almost inconceivably now, did.
Another odd, disquieting phenomenon at the early stages of the art season was the post facto gravity given to art works nothing more than mediocre, due to their fortuitous connection to the WTC attacks. Chief among these cases was Wolfgang Staehle’s installation “To the People of Manhattan”, later changed to “Untitled” after the attacks at Postmasters Gallery. Staehle hung up his appropriationist art making shenanigans in the early 1990’s as he set about creating an arts oriented web discussion group and net services provider called “The Thing”. Internet providing must have proved insufficient ego gratification as Staehle decided to allegedly reenter the art making fray again. What is more irksome than the re-contextualization of his work in post WTC terms is his claiming his simulcast in the gallery of lower Manhattan, a TV tower in Berlin and a monastery in Comburg, near Munich, was “a kind of contemporary landscape painting”. Couching new media work in the language of painting is a non sequitur that does a disservice to the art of paint and canvas as well as the realm of the video ready-made (see the work of Jeremy Blake, which also fits in this category). The destruction of the towers, viewable as a gaping hole in the New York City skyline on his simulcast only served to render his work a quick fix substitute for CNN, to hold one over on the way home to catch the latest news.
Richard Phillips, at Frederick Petzel Gallery, who once made quirky quilted neo-geo sculptural constructions in the go-go late 1980’s shifted to the more market friendly world of photo-realist paintings quite similar in form and content to the 1960’s artists that gave the movement it’s name. Suspiciously, the change occurred in the belt-tightening, recession plagued early to mid-1990’s when, perhaps in a bid to keep up with the Sean Landers’ and John Currin’s of the world, who were classmates of Phillips at Yale, and had launched zooming painting careers at the time. In this case, a knowing, wink-wink, obviously sarcastic portrait of a smirking George Bush took on the unintended monumentality of depicting a leader at the crossroads of a world historical moment. In the instances of Staehle and Phillips, they clearly had no a priori intent to capitalize on a tragedy, the magnitude of which no one could have foretold; but, the unintended effects served to focus unwarranted spotlights on work that was at best undeserving of the added attention.
UPTICK: NEW YORK
New Yorkers are a resilient bunch and we will pick up the pieces and create a city even more determined and cohesive than ever before. The art market, after holding its breath for much of September seems to be slowly eking back to more normal levels. In the immediate aftermath of the WTC there was an eerie pause where things came to a grinding halt: there were no visitors to galleries whatsoever, and business came to a standstill. However, feedback from galleries such as Andrew Kreps in Chelsea, a cutting edge venue that represents international emerging artists, shows a heartening rebound in business and an honoring of pre September 11th deals. His first show of the season (mid September to mid October) multi-media artist Hirsohi Sunairi practically sold out with prices in the range of $3,000 – $15,000. The centerpiece of the exhibit, a giant abstracted wooden Buddha with a painted and photo collaged surface, was also the most costly work in the show. It sold just prior to the 11th but the sale was not reneged upon, which is good news from the unproven, more speculative emerging segment of the market. At Luhring Augustine Gallery, Japanese photographer Yosimura Morimura who usually cross- dresses himself into roles in iconic Hollywood films or masterpieces from historic art works, sold remarkably well at levels from$10,000 to $45,000 in editions from 3 to 15. Phenomenally for any time of year, yet almost inconceivable after the most heinous act of terror the world has known to date, the gallery sold in excess of 40 pieces of the artist playing Frida Kahlo in photographs and videos. Though certain collectors expressed sentiments that they were “not in the mood to buy”, artists such as Donald Baechler reported fairly brisk sales from his studio in the range of $20,000 to $50,000 for paintings and works on paper. A possible precursor to the upcoming fall auctions was the recent sale held on October 10th at Sotheby’s from the estate of Fred Hughes; Andy Warhol’s recently-deceased business manager. Though the sale was comprised of mostly decorative doodads from his elaborate brownstone, a classic blue Warhol Jackie portrait in the generic size of 16 x 20 inches which is almost classifiable in the realm of commodity (over 40 are known to exist), fetched a respectable $180,000. At another auction, this one a charity event to benefit the Coalition for the Homeless, anxious bidders snapped up much of the art being offered. Ricci Albenda, an emerging conceptual artist who has a project room opening at the Museum of Modern Art in November, sold an 8 x 10 inch drawing on paper for $1,500 and an Ed Ruscha print in an addition of 100 sold for a healthy $5,600. With these encouraging tidbits of sale information trickling in, perhaps art will be viewed as a safe haven in a shaky economy, in an even shakier world.