It was Berlin Art Week, last week, and the art market was in town. A selection of collectors, galleries, makers and the interested public, descending on the same place at the same time to meet, greet and see. I went to many of the events; some of which, particularly outside of the two main art fairs, were fantastic. The Kleine Humboldt Galerie presented Beautiful Minds, artists’ installations relating to specialisation, and obsessions, allowing us to nose into behind-the-scenes spaces to which they responded in the University. Four art institutions collaborated to show different elements of the German painting scene. Painting Forever! presented very different but thought-provoking shows – from an eye-poppingly bright installation Hügel und Zweifel by Franz Ackermann in the Berlinische Galarie to a show, To Paint is to Love Again, in which three contemporary female painters responded to late semi-abstract work by Jeanne Mammen - exposing me to a whole range of painters I had not previously seen or heard about. I had been really looking forward to the week but, despite these highlights, it has, sadly, left me in something of a funk. Since it ended on Sunday I’ve been trying to work out why.
For me, the art fair is about creating spectacle. It has to be. While clustering together into a fair attracts a bigger audience – a record number apparently - galleries then have to compete with each other to be seen. The abc fair, in which participating galleries were required to show the work of a single artist, did it incredibly slickly. Without the opportunity to stack a range of artists’ work into a booth, the stands were really varied, giving each gallery a distinct identity. At the more traditionally presented Preview fair, the winner for me was the building, the painting halls in a former and somewhat dilapidated workshop for the opera (I'm rather amazed there was once this huge opera workshop).
For me, the art fair is about creating spectacle. It has to be. While clustering together into a fair attracts a bigger audience – a record number apparently - galleries then have to compete with each other to be seen. The abc fair, in which participating galleries were required to show the work of a single artist, did it incredibly slickly. Without the opportunity to stack a range of artists’ work into a booth, the stands were really varied, giving each gallery a distinct identity. At the more traditionally presented Preview fair, the winner for me was the building, the painting halls in a former and somewhat dilapidated workshop for the opera (I'm rather amazed there was once this huge opera workshop).
Watching a performance at the abc art fair. Photograph: Bridget H Jackson
Work by Diana Sirianni, Figge von Rosen Galerie, at the abc art fair. Photograph: Bridget H Jackson
So why did the week create such a funk in me? Simply, because I can’t see my work ever being presented in such a context. Because I can’t see me ever being an insider to such an event. And if that is the case, if I can’t see my work ever being presented as part of the official art market, then who am I making for?
The KW Institute for Contemporary Art held an evening of exhibiting artists talking about why they paint, as part of Painting Forever!, the four-institution collaboration, and its show Keilrahmen (stretchers). One of the artists, Thomas Schoeren, was retrieved from the bar as the last speaker and proceeded to rant about over production of art (at least, that’s what I understood his speech to be about). With 7 billion people living in the world, of which something like 4 million claim ourselves to be visual artists (over half a million of whom are professionals), the world, the market, is flooded with art.
The KW Institute for Contemporary Art held an evening of exhibiting artists talking about why they paint, as part of Painting Forever!, the four-institution collaboration, and its show Keilrahmen (stretchers). One of the artists, Thomas Schoeren, was retrieved from the bar as the last speaker and proceeded to rant about over production of art (at least, that’s what I understood his speech to be about). With 7 billion people living in the world, of which something like 4 million claim ourselves to be visual artists (over half a million of whom are professionals), the world, the market, is flooded with art.
Installation view of Keilrahmen at KW Institute for Contemporary Art. Photograph: Bridget H Jackson
There is an excess of production, over-supply. Which, I am sure, is the main reasons why so many of us struggle to make a living from our work, or even show as often as we would like. Walking around the two main art fairs in Berlin Art Week, with over 200 galleries showing between them, I wondered at the diversity of work presented, and if this was caused, maybe indirectly, by market forces. In an over-supplied market, are artists and also galleries, perhaps unconsciously, seeking to differentiate themselves to attract an audience and buyers, through their uniqueness? I do it, with my, so-to-speak, signature of unpicking and re-sewing. Something I have always struggled with is why make art given this situation. In making work I am contributing to my own problem of excess art-supply and that of other artists, and yet I feel compelled to make. I wonder if other artists feel this way too.
I’m not quite sure where this leaves me. Definitely wanting to make the best work that I can – the most articulate representation of my ideas, well thought through and intelligible – and to fight the compulsion to make a lots, to be seen to be making to be able to call myself an artist. But, standing on the fringe, I need to find an outlet to present my work as well. My cousin has suggested, several times, that I set myself on Etsy or something similar, which I have been reluctant to do. I feel it is somehow more suitable for products and I definitely don’t want to be a maker of an art-product. What excites me at the moment, though I think it is a pretty crazy idea, is setting up my own space. In Berlin I have stumbled across two book exchange projects which I have really liked – one with covered shelves set in hollowed tree trunks, the other in a telephone box (see below). I like the generosity and unexpectedness of these spaces. Perhaps it is time for me to try the art world out from a different angle, to try to elbow my way to being more of an insider, though I don't imagine for a second it would be simple setting such a space up and running it.
I’m not quite sure where this leaves me. Definitely wanting to make the best work that I can – the most articulate representation of my ideas, well thought through and intelligible – and to fight the compulsion to make a lots, to be seen to be making to be able to call myself an artist. But, standing on the fringe, I need to find an outlet to present my work as well. My cousin has suggested, several times, that I set myself on Etsy or something similar, which I have been reluctant to do. I feel it is somehow more suitable for products and I definitely don’t want to be a maker of an art-product. What excites me at the moment, though I think it is a pretty crazy idea, is setting up my own space. In Berlin I have stumbled across two book exchange projects which I have really liked – one with covered shelves set in hollowed tree trunks, the other in a telephone box (see below). I like the generosity and unexpectedness of these spaces. Perhaps it is time for me to try the art world out from a different angle, to try to elbow my way to being more of an insider, though I don't imagine for a second it would be simple setting such a space up and running it.
BücherboXX Berlin, Grunewald. Photograph: Bridget H Jackson
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