Bad art by a bad person: Hitler goes under the hammer

29 04 2009

Here’s something to ponder: how different a place would the world be if Adolf Hitler had been born with but a soupçon of artistic talent, and been able to fulfil his dreams and crack the Munich art scene? I mean, between the German Dadaists, Expressionists, Abstractionists and the proponents of the Bauhaus movement, the Weimar Republic was a-rocking, artistically speaking, between the wars. Adolf certainly didn’t want for blind ambition and clear, if diabolical, vision. If he’d been able to satiate his megalomania by morphing into an art world enfant terrible… well, much of the bad stuff that’s gone on since might not have happened. Butterfly wings and all that.

This supposed self-portrait sold for $20,000.

But, sadly, t’was not to be. Which may be a tragedy for the modern world. But, as evidenced by a collection of watercolours sold at auction, one of which is pictured here, it was a blessing for the world of art. Hitler was wise to abandon his artistic calling. Or, in his case, less of a calling and more of a muffled mumble from somewhere a very, very long way away. The thirteen paintings sold for nearly $200,000 at auction in Britain last week. No doubt to a souvenir hunter. No self-respecting art lover would deign to piss on them. For so many reasons.

Apropos of nothing, I’ve noticed lately that articles discussing Hitler often include a summary biographical description of the beast and his deeds. Such as the following from The Age: ‘Best known as the genocidal dictator who butchered millions in his quest to unite Europe under German rule‘. “How unnecessary…As if we don’t know who he is…”, you might very well think. As would I. If not for the nineteen-year-old university student I had in a class last year who had never heard of Hitler.

True story. Sigh.

Images: Watercolour – ABC online





A licence to print money: How to turn a fabric off-cut into $6000

28 04 2009

Clint Arthur and his two $6,000 Vuitton prints.

Firstly, you need to be an artist with the celebrity status of Japan’s Takashi Murakami. Secondly, you need to join forces with French luxury goods manufacturer, Louis Vuitton, whose hilariously expensive handbags and clutches adorn the pretzel-thin arms of the world’s most watched fashionistas and celebutards. Thirdly, you need to get yourself exposure – and preferably a retail outlet – in one of America’s biggest contemporary art galleries. OK. That’s the hard part. Now comes the easy bit. Whip up a design for Vuitton to print onto some fabric, out of which the company will craft some of aforementioned exclusive fripperies. Said process will leave quite a few remainders and off-cuts. Take those off-cuts, grab a few timber stretchers, attach off-cuts to stretchers, sign and number them on the reverse, then sell in shop set up in large contemporary art gallery. Easy. But where does this leave the people who snap up your ‘limited edition prints’, if they bought them thinking they were acquiring ‘original’ works of art?

According to LA-based art collector and gourmet butter retailer (!), Clint Arthur, this is what happened to him (that’s a visibly cranky Arthur pictured with his prints above). And he’s more than a little miffed. And, if as reported in the LA Times, up to $US 4 million worth of Murakami ‘prints’ were sold at a Louis Vuitton boutique that had been set up inside a retrospective at the Los Angeles Museum of Contemporary Art, there were many other collectors who were also happy to pony up the cash to buy these ‘artworks’. Now, Murakami, along with peers such as Jeff Koons and Damien Hirst, uses his practice to challenge the traditional boundaries between art and commerce. He has established a multimedia collaborative relationship with Vuitton, extending to the construction of a manga candyland cartoon clip featuring Vuiton’s ‘Superflat Monogram’ (really worth a look) in which Murakami acknowledges the ‘brilliant guidance’ of Vuitton’s artistic designer, Marc Jacobs.

In this, Murakami et al are Andy Warhol’s cultural heirs. All of which is fine. But, art theory aside, the aggrieved Arthur is suing Louis Vuitton for fraud, alleging that the luxury goods manufacturer did not disclose that the ‘prints’ were contrived from bits left over from the manufacture of the Murakami-designed handbags and other natty be-tassled goodies also for sale in the boutique.

The prints were described in the boutique as “canvasses revisited by Takashi Murakami”. “Revisited”? Now that there is some of the best and most creative use of art sales lingo I’ve yet to see. Louis Vuitton argues that, as an experienced art collector, Arthur should have known what he was getting. Moot point. But the devil is in the detail. And where things may get sticky for the French company is with California’s ‘Fine Prints Act’

The purpose of the act is to ensure that buyers are given all the information they need about the nature of a print at the point of purchase. To avoid, I’d imagine, the sort of debacle that saw collectors fleeced out of millions of dollars by the ‘printmaking’ process set up around the elderly Salvador Dali. At their best, original prints are exquisite – I’m a nut for them. But for anyone other than an expert, the processes used to make prints can be pretty obscure. And the difference between an original, fine print and a mass-produced, ‘limited edition’ print… well, think a cubic zirconia and a diamond. Mr. Arthur believes he’s been landed with a couple of cubic zirconias. And where it might get difficult for Louis Vuitton is that the Fine Prints Act (1744(4)) makes it very clear that an art seller must tell a buyer when the “multiple or the image on or in the master” is “of an image produced in a different medium, for a purpose other than the creation of the multiple being described”. In short – if the fabric was made for the bags, and the prints were an afterthought, then there could be a problem. Then again, Vuitton might just say that the fabric was made with the express intention of producing prints, and the bags were the afterthought. Chickens and eggs.

Point being – fine art prints? One very large, squirming can of very slippery worms.

Images: Clint Arthur: Los Angeles Times; Takashi Murakami, DNA images: BBC





Stolen Art: Should We Ever Let Bygones Be Bygones?

17 04 2009

Yves Saint Laurent's art collection is acutioned at Christie's in Paris.A few years ago I dropped in on an antiquities dealer I know from my time working in the auction trade. He’s great company, makes a killer coffee, and always has a new, thrilling, thoroughly engaging yet cringe-inducing story about his latest successful attempt to get his hands on a precious artwork or artefact of questionable provenance. To say that some of the things that have passed through his hands are of museum quality is an understatement.

For me, two particularly memorable pieces he showed me that day sum up the reality of the trade in antiquities. One was an exquisite, translucent marble Greek statue – relatively small, but perfect. I can’t be more specific than that because I have no desire to get anyone in trouble. Suffice to say that it was magnificent. It purportedly came to our dealer through the hands of an archaeologist who had excavated it on a small Aegean island and smuggled it out of Greece during the course of an official excavation. The second piece had been spirited illegally out of Iraq, just months after the Allies seized  Baghdad. It was an alabaster figurine of such beauty it brought tears to my eyes. 

As long as we continue to covet precious things and venerate objects of creative human endeavour, the trade in stolen art and artefacts will thrive. But the existence and focus of the trade raises some interesting questions. For example: China is threatening auction powerhouse, Christie’s, with “serious” consequences after the auction house refused to halt the sale of two 18th century bronze statues in its recent sale of the late fashion designer Yves Saint Laurent’s art collection (one is pictured above). The sale caused such uproar in China that even martial arts legend Jackie Chan felt compelled to weigh in on the matter. The statues were allegedly stolen in 1860 by British and French troops from the Imperial Summer Palace in Beiing during the Opium War. Given that China is being touted as the new frontier for the art trade, the government’s threat to restrict Christie’s presence in China is a serious one. But the whole situation made me ponder – would the outcome have been different if Christie’s or Sotheby’s had been offered a looted crest taken from the facade of Buckingham Palace, or Abraham’s foot stolen illegally from Lincoln’s Monument? Is this a case of double standards? 

War loot is nothing new. But that doesn’t make it right.

I’m sure there’s plenty of earlier examples, but Nebuchadnezzar and the treasure from Solomon’s Temple is the earliest example I can think of. In recent years, irreplaceable relics from the cradle of western civilisation, Mesopotamia – the land between the two rivers otherwise known as Iraq – have been stolen and spread far and wide. The looting of Iraqi museums has been widely and rightly condemned. Yet on the other hand, the Elgin marbles, stolen from the Parthenon in the early 1800s by the British ambassador to the Ottoman Empire, still retain pride of place in the British Museum. And they’re not going anywhere anytime soon. To put the latter example in context, it would be a bit like if Michelangelo’s Sistine ceiling was ripped out and spirited off to a museum in Beijing. Or if the Eiffel Tower was dismantled, stuck on a container ship and taken away to a cultural centre in Dubai. How would we feel about that?

It’s all very well to entertain the idea of universal cultural heritage. Just make sure it cuts both ways.

Image:  ’The Guardian’





Appropriate this: Artists’ intellectual property rights through the Looking Glass

7 04 2009

I’d really like to hear Sherrie Levine’s take on this one. Or Marcel Duchamp’s, for that matter.

Everyone’s favourite poster-maker, Shepard Fairey, was responsible for one of the more enduring images from the 2008 election campaign – the Obama Hope poster, pictured at left. Fairey used a photograph taken by an Associated Press (AP) photographer, Manny Garcia, as the basis for his artwork. AP alleged copyright infringement. Fairey retorted: “Fair Use!”.

That legal fracas is still to be resolved. But, ironically, it seems that Mr. Fairey may be surprisingly thin-skinned when other artists dare to appropriate his own work. In April 2008, Fairey’s lawyers threatened an artist by the name of Baxter Orr with legal action after Orr appropriated one of Fairey’s best-known works, Obey Giant, embellishing Andre the Giant’s face (the subject of Fairey’s work) with a face mask and a new title: Protect Yourself.

This isn’t the only case where Fairey seems to have been more inclined to dish it out than to cop it on the chin. According to Gawker, Fairey’s legal eagles landed a cease and desist letter on a Steelers fan in Pittsburgh who dared to sell little kewpie-doll Steeler mascots using the phrase “Obey Steeler Baby”. 

Fair use as an exception to copyright law exists for a reason. And a very good one at that. Without appropriation, whether informal or deliberate, a good swag of the art produced during the 20th century would have been illegal. And for a reason as mundane as trademark infringement. Appropriation in one form or another has been going on since our earliest ancestors began daubing on their cave walls.  It seems highly inappropriate to mess with it.

 

 

Shepard Fairey, ‘Obey Giant’; [right] Baxter Orr, ‘Protect Yourself’.”]pols_feature18.jpg

[left

 

Images: Fairey ‘Obama Hope’ poster – Wikipedia; Steelerbaby – Gawker; ‘Obey Giant’, and  Baxter Orr’s ‘Protect Yourself’ – The Boston Globe





A guaranteed disaster? Art auction houses left hanging as the market turns.

6 04 2009

Francis Bacon's Study for Self-Portrait

 

 

 

Picture this (if you’ll pardon the pun) – you are the fortunate owner of an artwork of mind-blowing significance. The art market is booming – nay, it’s gone warp speed, hyperbole be damned. You love your painting… have loved it and treasured it for many years. But the sky-rocketing prices prove too much for you. You approach an auction house or three – this is a seller’s market, remember. No point settling for the first offer you get. A pre-auction bidding war ensues. One of the auction houses offers you a guaranteed minimum price – if that price isn’t reached during the auction, the auction house will be compelled to pay you the guaranteed price and to take the painting into its possession. Nothing to lose, right?

Well, it must have seemed like a good idea at the time. But now that art buyers are more concerned about paying the heating bills and filling the fridge than buying art (as much as art warms the cockles of the heart and nourishes the soul), the practice of offering art-sellers a minimum price when they consign works for sale may well have left the big auction houses in a bit of a pickle. In Sotheby’s case, a pickle of the magnitude of up to $US 500 million. That’s a very, very big pickle.

In documents filed with US authorities in April 2007, Sotheby’s listed outstanding guarantees of $US 295 million. Although I’ve been unable to find an indication of the company’s exposure in late 2008 when things started to go pear-shaped, the board set a ceiling of $US 500 million on its exposure through guarantees. Comparable figures for Christie’s, which is not  a public company, are not readily available. But to give a sense of how much of the art that passed through the top end of the market may have been guaranteed, witness the following figures: Sotheby’s guaranteed 78% of a single contemporary sale by value (14 November 2007), and Christie’s 52% of its 13 November 2007 sale.

So, the last sales of 2008 and the first of 2009 are likely to have been pretty tricky for the big auction houses. Artworks consigned for sale under the old guard popped up on the rostrum, with associated guarantees and big promises, but with far fewer big-spenders in the audience. Case in point: Francis Bacon’s Study for Self-Portrait [pictured] turned up at Christie’s in November 2008 with a minimum estimate of  $US 40 million. The Florida-based collector, George Weiss, consigned the painting for sale at Christie’s after the auction house offered him a guaranteed minimum price. But the ultimate timing of the auction wasn’t so flash-hot. Weiss’ painting, which was billed as the sale highlight, was sharing wall-space with works consigned by Lehman Brothers ne’er do well, Richard Fuld. Not a good time to be competing for attention with such a tangible reminder of the unfolding economic disaster.

The Bacon did not sell. In fact, almost a third of the 75 contemporary works on offer that night didn’t find buyers. Weiss expected to be paid his guaranteed minimum price. Christie’s International, citing “the changed climate of the art market”, refused to pay up, according to the breach-of-contract complaint Weiss filed in New York.

Could this just be the tip of the proverbial iceberg?

Image: The Guardian 








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