My fear of being blinded from too many patent leather Christian Louboutins as well as lack of trusting myself not to pick a fight with some trophy wife/art snob/dickish gallery owner told me not to seek out the festivals this year. However, I still went to the Armory, and the Independent. There were some highlights I suppose.
The Armory was surprisingly the best that I can recall. Of course it is always overwhelming, with endless amounts of galleries, artworks, flourescent lights, and glitterati that seem to have confused the Piers with a runway. The work was good, and several galleries had gave strongly curated showings. Possibly my favorite, was Elizabeth Dee Gallery. A panel talk given on the future of Biennials was also worth the haul out to no-womans-land.
After feeling like I spent enough time in the rabbit-hole that is/was the Armory, I left to catch a bus down to Chelsea, to go to the Independent, a fair supposedly intended to critique art fairs.
The Independent
Funny that this show should open with a completely banal exhibition of contemporary art. It’s only edge was that the gallery had presented a number of art-work pairings. I am not sure if it was a conscious decision or not, but the gallery was in no way different from every blue-chip allotment in the Armory show. Gah… it is what it is… I am going to come back to this…
(First two picks are from the Independent)
The above painting speaks volumes about what I think about the Armory.
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Why? A similar painting read “The Beuys are Back in Town”… Give me cancer now, god.
