KEEPING PACE
Today in our Sunday Lounge!, we feature a section on the Pace gallery's bold reaction to market conditions. It is an earthshaking saga that rattles so many surrounding states of mind.
Amongst all of it, the removal of an artist from a roster is a collective nightmare, one that finds many an artist, waking late at night, wide-eyed from unthinkable fear, with a bedsheet over their heads. Que horror.
I have a friend who loved his gallery so much, he had the logo tattooed onto his epidermis. What do you do when you have been banished from the kingdom? You find a Meghan Markle, and tattoo her name over it.
Imagine the glory of becoming a Pace artist. Your step gets lighter thinking that soon your studio will get much bigger. You have been anointed and approved. The prestige and privilege it affords has to be kept in check. You are in Blue Chip country. A blazing PACE across each bicep is more than appropriate; it's good marketing. And when the gallery clips an iceberg, you can always amputate the limb. On the sunny and safer side, the cost of tattoo removal is getting cheaper.
The psychological relationship between artist and gallerist has never been fully mined. The aching needs and insecurities of both are too myriad and darkly cerebral to investigate. A minefield of distraction. And the source of great humor.
Pace has altered course and we shall see where she sails. Yes, the gallery was too grand and got pinched.
Superblue was a bold and decisive effort which I heartily applauded. I kept watch with a skeptical eye. The bloom of Superblue coincided with Issue art. The entertainment aspect of Superblue was paved over by the thick concrete of dystopian messaging, turning the exhibits into elementary school presentations. That made the ticket unaffordable. Who wants to pay for a brow beating?
The media success of Superblue convinced Pace vendors to raise their prices. Production, fabrication, and the cost of pristine academic curatorial protocols made the show, the appeal, and the entire division unaffordable. SuperRed ink.
One cannot create when an uptight accountant is breathing down your neck. Superblue would have worked best as an organic evolution, a small gesture armed by the fuel of discovery. Much like the Museum of Jurassic Technology. With no budget, the artist can create freely. "To hell with the Swiss Alps, we will make our own." Superblue was not a Broadway spectacular; it belonged in a medium for tinkerers, inventors and makers.
In this foggy economy, Pace gets a remodel. The first big boy to do so. A handful of artists are facing a series of profound life-changing decisions and directions. And the mighty fine art world keeps on spinning. To be continued, always.
Art Report Today .com
