An everyday perspective on today's art scene.

Art serves many purposes but increasingly, today’s public asks that it either inform or entertain an increasingly engaged yet generally unfamiliar general public. This is a simple guide for those seeking to work past intimidating gallery owners or over-eager docents and interns for a chance to approach these creative works on one’s own terms – if a show interests you, click on the link or Google the artist – they will be glad to assist you.

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Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Cheaper by the Baker's Dozen


 1.      Francis Picabia, Volupté (1932), $130K
2.      Joan Miró, Femme (Femme debout) (1969), $4.5M -$8M
3.      Joan Miró, Femme, étoile (1942), $500K-$800K.
4.      Joan Miró, L’echelle d’évasion (Escape Ladder) (1939), $800K - $1.3M
5.      Joan Miró, Signes et figurations, $1M- $1.5M
6.      Joan Miró, Tête (1970), $800K - $1.1M
7.      Max Ernst, La Forêt (1934/35), $50K-$80K
8.      Max Ernst, Roter Gratenwald mit Sonne (Red Forest with Sun) (1936), $650K-$1M
9.      Paul Delvaux, ecce homo (la descendre de croix) (1949), $1M - $1.4M
10.   Paul Delvaux, La Première Rose (1947), $1.6M - $2.4M
11.   Paul Delvaux, Les nymphes des eaux (1938).  $5M-$8M
12.   René Magritte, A la rencontre du plaisir (1950), $2M-$3M
13.   René Magritte, La traverse difficile (II) (1946), $400K-$600K
14.   opt.  Edvard Munch, Robat pa sjøen (1904), $1M
 


Cheaper by the Baker’s Dozen


Or… if I had $10 Million Dollars … I’d Buy Us a … Miró, a Delvaux and a Munch

    I would never actually advise anyone as to what art they should or should not consider purchasing, but while reading Hedley Twidle’s interesting article about South African Nobel Literary Laureate John M. Coetzee in the Financial Times, I noted the advertisement for Christie’s upcoming Surrealist Art Auction in London (08 Feb, 2013), and could not resisting clicking on the teaser icon.  Hmmm, I see…”
    Truthfully, I have a love and hate relationship with Surrealism, but many of the pieces in this particular auction draw closer to Modernism than to Surrealism, though all are definitely impacted by Surrealist forms and theory.  The first few selections in their slide show did not hold my attention.  They were fine, but not of the quality or the creativity I would expect for those prices.  But after imagining the excitement the wives of attorneys, Freshmen Congressmen and the other Long Island types whom I assume bid on such pieces, I caught a glimpse of Joan Miró’s Femme – a large, brilliant sculpture in black matte-finish bronze … And the expected price range for the piece?  A mere $4.5 million.  “Nice – I’d sure like to see the commission on that one,”  I thought to myself.
    Going through the slideshow catalogue, I noted several other Miró’s that I felt to be rather special and a few other works by other artists, ending up with a baker’s dozen-or-so that I felt would be well worth the trip to view.  The combined recommended minimum for the full dozen, roughly a cool $19.5 Millions – not really so bad if you really think about it.
    But… more realistically, what if the widow of a deceased retail tycoon offered me a budget of some $10 millions of dollars to establish an appropriate artistic memorial donation to the local art institute – What would I buy?
    First off, I imagine that I would have to explain just exactly why I would not recommend going after the glory pieces – the Salvador Dali’s et al that were included in the show.  My reasoning is very simple.  These are minor works by well-known artists.  While owning a Dali or having donated a Dali would indeed give one a certain cachet amongst the local wine-and-dine set at the University Club, it is not a donation that is going to excite either the recipient institution, or the budding connoisseurs one hopes the piece would eventually attract and stimulate.
    No, ma’am, look past the Dali’s, they’re just glitz and name, look again at the Miró sculpture – that is where the investment for our local culture would best be spent.”
    Truthfully, while I greatly admire and respect Miró’s work (and proudly note that Frazier, from the hit comedy show, proudly displayed an art book of Miró’s work in his apartment, thereby gaining credibility in my eyes), I am certainly not up as to what his most important pieces are.  But, I can state convincingly that Femme seems to be a solid example of his mature, trademark style and a topic that would be of interest to his followers – both artistically and academically.  “If we had to look at just one piece, this is the one that I would most strongly recommend … especially for the American Midwest.”  Furthermore… it is monumental in size – over six feet tall (74.5 inches).*
    But!...” I would strongly caution, “let us not yet too excited … let us more closely inspect the dozen-or-so other works from my list…”
    I feel that art collecting should never be done for investment – because any investment trends that you now follow now are in fact merely trends and fads – one must strive to establish one’s own artistic perception and interest and build on that.  In this case, I feel that there are two sets of works that are both complementary and very synergistic to Midwestern culture – whether in Madison, Chicago or the Twin Cities.  The first set is relatively inexpensive.  Both are by Max Ernst, a German surrealist with strong ties to American arts patron Peggy Guggenheim (in fact, they were, for a short time, married).

(left) Ernst, Roter Gratenwald mit Sonne, (right) Ernst, La Forêt, courtesy Christie's
     The first is an intriguing oil entitled Roter Gratenwald mit Sonne (Red Forest with Sun) (1936) with his La Forêt (1934/35).  Of the two, I feel that the former is the more important piece and would be able to stand more successfully on its own.  La Forêt, while a bit weaker, nevertheless is a nice FOIL to the first piece and serves as a contemplative bookend, augmenting the power and authority (or impact) of Roter Gratenwald.   
   
    As for their synergistic place in a Midwestern collection, the two pieces together speak very strongly of the outdoors – Boundary Waters National Wilderness Area came to mind immediately with Roter Gratenwald, as did views of the tundra forests in south-central Alaska and Yukon.  More than that, I think that the pieces converse with each other in a sort of artistic dialogue about the cycles of nature – the summer and the autumn.  Perhaps a bit deeper, La Forêt might perhaps speak to the wilderness that we now possess and enjoy or even a primeval past, while Roter Gratenwald perhaps touches that deep felt worry we now feel towards this natural heritage and its future under the impact of human civilization and big business and our shared ultimate fate and fears regarding Global Warming and Climate Change.  Ernst’s pieces not only fit into our shared cultural heritage and awareness, but speak to us today, possessing a readily apparent sense of Zeitgheist – a factor that I feel is too often overlooked or undervalued by dealers and curators at present.
Delvaux, La traverse difficile (II) courtesy Christie's
    In a not totally unrelated manner, I would next recommend René Magritte’s La traverse difficile (II) (1946).  Again, this is a piece from a previous generation that has now transcended the meaning of its own day to both reflect that original intent while speaking to the ecosystem and culture of the Great Lakes, and climate change, and our determination to live in this land, to thrive, and to find security and contentment today.  La traverse is a powerful narrative work that one could contemplate for lengthy periods of time and be totally content.  The contrast between the stormy sea and the calm symbols of culture and ease – a lit cigar, a full cigar box, a steady lamp, are powerful and easily approached.  The storm doesn’t worry the smoker… but perhaps he has gone on to responsibly lock down that loose shutter…
    La traverse speaks to us of responsibility and stewardship.  I would imagine numerous school-level essays being written about how Magritte indicates civilization and its responsibility for nature (the stormy sea), to be aware of it and to know how to rise to its challenges while calmly reading a book or smoking a cigar.  I cannot help but imagine this being the scene from the lighthouse at Split Rock, Minnesota, the night of the sinking of the Edmund FitzGerald, or in the approach of a fierce Nord’easter bearing down on North Chicago over Lake Michigan.  Few images speak so well to that inner strength and determination to survive and thrive while trusting in civilization and in one’s self that Magritte, though not a Midwesterner, has managed to capture and convey.  La traverse would be my third choice.  We are now at $1.1 millions of dollars.
Magritte, A la rencontre du plaisir, courtesy Christie's
    Fourth, I would contemplate another Magritte that plans to be sold in this auction – A la rencontre du plaisir (1950), actually the first piece of the second recommended pair.  This piece speaks of many other, very different social aspects of our shared humanity that are also quite pertinent to the Midwest.  The image is of two men – are they passing, are they leaving, do they know each other, are they the same man?  So many questions come to mind as one contemplates the quite, isolated scene.  Magritte gives us at least three immediate clues as to what might be occurring in this painting – a random meeting of two men indicating no familiarity in an otherwise empty landscape, at dusk… in the trees.  Is this a secret, possibly homosexual tryst? 
Delvaux, courtesy Christie's
    While many other potential explanations are readily apparent and easily come to mind, La rencontre retains an aura of compelling mystery and motivation as to the subjects – the scene itself seems of vital importance – but why?  Is it the beauty of the cultivated fieldscape or is it the isolation that provides a moment of privacy and security?  What is the plaisir or encounter with pleasure that is captured in this scene.  I can think of few paintings that speak to so many potential Postmodern audiences and provoke such compelling questions of pertinence and interest to contemporary Midwestern audiences.  This is a painting that would both provoke and maintain interest and dialogue.  It is, however, a bit expensive at $2M to $3M.  We will hope for a break -- perhaps a Midwestern-style blizzard will hit London the day of the auction.  At $2M, the purchase would bring us up to $3.1 millions of dollars or just under 1/3 of our total budget.
    This year’s auction promises some great work by Paul Delvaux, including La première rose (1947), his ecce homo (1949), and finally, Les nymphes des eux (1938).  Arguably and definitely from a surrealist perspective, Les nymphes is  the strongest piece with the widest potential appeal.  It is vivid, busy and full of narrative action, wild imagination and beautiful naked women.  Apparently, Christie’s would agree.  They have priced Les nymphes at over twice that of the other Delvaux pieces.  But what of those pieces?  Ecce homo is a startling piece of great imagination and controversial images.  Ecce homo smacks of religiosity and irreligiosity at the same time – very difficult.  Moreover, it is a piece whose interpretation and appeal is likely to expand and increase over time while maintaining a certain perennial appeal to younger audiences.  In its way, it might also appeal to newer Midwestern cultures – one of the first thoughts that came to my mind was the Mexican tradition of the Day of the Dead parades and gatherings.  Certainly, the Midwest is spiritual enough to draw more than enough inspiration for thought in that regard.
Delvaux, La première rose., courtesy Christie's
    But, the Delvaux that catches my eye is La première rose.  It is a beautiful painting of contrasting forms and characters.  As a complement to La rencontre, it too features a pair of same-sex characters in an inescapably suggestive situation that may or may not reference repressed sexuality, same-sex sexuality, or no sexuality at all or even the difference in time between youth and maturity… many numerous topics of conversation.  I could see the two, the second of the second pair I would recommend, becoming trademark pieces in the collection that many students and tourists must avail themselves of – including the regions large, openly-out gay, lesbian and transgender community in additional to more traditional audiences with more traditional interpretations.  Again, going with a sense of Zeitgheist, such a pairing would be powerful and shortly quite well known indeed.  We have now spent $4.7 millions of our imaginary dollars, approximately half of our budget.  But I believe that we are doing quite well with our selections.
    This is where things begin to become a bit tricky.  We only have $5.3 millions left – ignoring for our purposes any additional taxes, fees, commissions, etc. that would normally also have be taken into consideration.
    Miró’s Femme is about $4.5 millions.  That would just cinch our budget.  Should we do it or not?
Miró, Tête, courtesy Christie's
    Combining my experience in politics and in public relations, I would state with conviction, “Absolutely not!”  Noting your surprised reaction, I would point out that this particular auction is quite rich in pieces from Miró.  I have not researched an explanation, but I do have an idea.  The total gift is roughly $10 millions.  The Femme is $4.5 millions, or roughly half the value of the gift.  I see at least four strong earlier works by Miró in the auction – visual works from his earlier career.  What if the gift came as a challenge for the target collection to raise the money for Femme while your employer offers to purchase and donate the four pieces in question in order to create a context for Femme and to create a strong representation of Miró in the collection sure to draw connoisseurs, tourists and students alike – while demanding that the collection itself (including Femme) be named in honor of my patron?
Miró, Femme, étoile ; Signes et figurations; L’echelle d’évasion, courtesy Christie's
    Christie’s seems to price Miró’s early work higher than his later work, but I think that our first priority would be Tête (1970), roughly contemporary with Femme.  Tête reveals and contains the classic symbolism and both art theory and philosophy developed by or identified with Miró.  This painting would serve as an important key to Femme as well as draw the sculpture into the interior permanent collection.  For these purposes, it would be an easy and essential complement to the sculpture.
    The remaining three Mirós on the list reach back to his early career (ca 1930s – 40s) and indicate the pedigreed heritage of the forms found in Femme and Tête.  For this reason, I would recommend Femme, étoile (1942) at $500,000, L’echelle d’évasion (1939) at $800,000 and Signes et figurations (na) at $1M, for a total of $2.3 millions of dollars.  We have now spent $7.8 millions.
    Assuming that we achieve our ends at the lowest price possible and continue to disregard any additional costs and fees, the sharper amongst you are wondering … but do we not still have roughly $2.2 millions left?  Yes.  But to be honest, I would still pass on the remaining Mirós, Delvaux and others and hold the remainder in reserve with the exception of one small, guilty pleasure – I have spotted a rather delicious Francis Picabia, who is already represented in the Art Institute of Chicago collection.  Volupté is both classic Picabia and something a bit more.  Now, I have to admit that I once wasted a hundred dollars on a couple of cloth panels painted by an art student in Paris in the style of Picabia, one of my favorite painters of the female form.  Volupté contains all of the lines, contours and expressiveness of the Picabia I know and love while adding a small, surprising, surrealist twist to the combination of three otherwise separate and incompatible images.  It is an amusing and pleasing study of form, line and expression and at $130K, I say we quickly and quietly snap it up and call ourselves good. 
    As for the rest of the funds – even after at least one formal high tea with champagne at Hotel Savoy, we still have $2 millions left in our imaginary funds.
Edvard Munch, Robat pa sjøen, courtesy Christie's
    I am opting to leave a day earlier to snap up a find from the Modern Art Auction.  I would have my eye on a nice piece by Edvard Munch called Robat pa sjøen (1909) painted at his beachfront home at Asgardstrand, Norway.  I find that Robat actually fits into the Surrealist just a bit in that while the scene is at first vary peaceful, there is a haunting feeling of Stephen King about the lone figure stooped in the boat enjoying a peaceful open ocean, yet the rocks join with a shadow that reaches out almost to the boat like something other that is pursuing the figure.  Christie’s sees this as rather peaceful, I find the rocks disturbing, like little monsters coming to life with rounded shapes, glinty eyes and sharp teeth.  Where Christie’s sees peace, I see Jaws.  Munch’s Nordic background ties him to the Midwest culturally, and again we have the strong bond and connection to nature and water.  This would be my final purchase, and truthfully, if we are able to walk away with an extra $1 million in our pocket (having spent only $9M), we will have found ourselves fortunate indeed and ready to start saving for our next auction.
    Thanks.  I hope that you had fun with this little fantasy, but it is kind of neat to see what is coming on the market right now and note some of the current art prices.  Ciao, PACE.
    [Yes, if I could only choose half that budget, I would choose 10, 12, 13 and the Munch.]


*In researching Miró’s Femme, I was reminded (ok, I did not actually know) that there are already two casts (of four) of the sculpture in the American Midwest – being at the Detroit Institute of Arts, Detroit, Michigan, and the Walker Art Center, Minneapolis, Minnesota.  I take this as a confirmation of my intuitive tastes and understanding of the Midwest art scene, and as an indicator that I need to amend my weekend plans to hustle over to the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden and see in person that which I am recommending.  Happily, Minneapolis is much closer, and much cheaper to get to than is Christie’s London.  Hope ya’ll had fun with this little fantasy.  I know I did.  ~PACE

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