Previous Posts: December 2014

After a fairly dismal performance at the Frieze Masters fair in October, where few Old Masters paintings were sold, the Old Master market picked up its heels at the London auctions last week.

“My penis is an organ. I need it to reproduce, and for sex and joy... but I can also use it in my art, and that’s joyful for me on more levels.”

Jensen said he “painted” the portrait of Kardashian in about 8 to 10 hours. His natural gifts, he said, came in handy. "If one is ill-equipped, it is difficult to reproduce the small details,” he told the Copenhagen Post. “But if one is well-endowed, it is easier to produce a better painting."

“He thought that every advantage in civil society was compounded in women and wine: and, acting up to this principal of bliss, he gave his body to Euphrosyne, and his intellects to madness. He was as ostentatious as a peacock, and as amorous as the Persian Sophi; he would never stir abroad without his bag and his sword; and, when the beauties of Ierne sat to him for their portraits, he would affect to neglect the necessary implements of his art, and use his naked sword as a moll-stick. He had a haram and a bath at the top of his house, replete with every enticement and blandishment to awaken desire; and he thus lived, jocund and thoughtless, until his nerves were unstrung by age; when his spirits decayed with his animal powers, and he sighed and drooped into eternity!”

“The botany in the Louvre version is perfect, showing plants that would have thrived in a moist, dark grotto,” says Ann Pizzorusso, a geologist and Renaissance art historian. “But the plants in the London version are inaccurate. Some don’t exist in nature, and others portray flowers with the wrong number of petals.”

She concludes: “It seems unlikely the same person could have portrayed rock formations so accurately in the Louvre work and so incongruously in the National Gallery one – especially considering Leonardo’s faithfulness to nature. There is absolutely nothing in his body of work that is not true to nature.

Her conclusions are supported by John Grimshaw, a leading horticulturalist, who is struck by the realism of the Louvre painting, unlike the National Gallery version. In the French painting, he can easily identify iris, polemonium and aquilegia. He says: “There’s a very recognisable iris, a Jacob’s Ladder, a nice little palm tree, all sorts of well-observed bits of vegetation there – and proper plants.”

This argument against the NG painting sounds quite plausible.

It might be condition, but the Louvre Christ child's profile is better too - the hint that the face is turned away a fraction, exactly the sort of thing that rarely translates into copies. 

The extraordinary fact that has emerged from the painstaking ­studies of William Camfield, Kirk Varnedoe and Hector Obalk is that Duchamp could not have done what he said he did late in life. Irene Gammel and Glyn Thompson have revealed the truth of his much earlier private account that he did not submit the urinal to the Society of Independent Artists exhibition in New York in 1917. Nevertheless, Duchamp’s late, fictional story is still taught in every class and recited in every book.

Duchamp maintained that he bought the urinal from the J. L. Mott Iron Works in New York, signed it with the pseudonym R. Mutt, and submitted it to the Independents exhibition, calling it Fountain. The ­urinal was rejected despite the objection of Duchamp’s rich friend Walter Arensberg, who argued that the ­society must honour its own rule and hang everything submitted. The ­urinal was a work of art, he claimed, because an artist had chosen it. 

[...]

Scholars have long since proved that Duchamp could not have bought the urinal from the J. L. Mott Iron Works because Mott didn’t sell that particular model. Most tellingly, on 11 April 1917, just two days after the board had rejected it, Duchamp wrote to his sister, a nurse in war-torn Paris, telling her that “one of my female friends under a masculine pseudonym, Richard Mutt, sent in a porcelain urinal as a sculpture”. The explosive contents of this letter did not enter the public domain until 1983 when the missive was published in the Archives of American Art Journal. [...]

The literary historian Irene Gammel was the first to discover who Duchamp’s “female friend” was. She was born Else Plötz in Germany in 1874, the daughter of a builder and local politician who philandered freely and beat her mother. [...]

In October 1917, the painter George Biddle described her room in New York filled with “odd bits of ­ironware, automobile tiles… ash cans, every conceivable horror, which to her tortured yet highly sensitive ­perception, became objects of formal beauty… it had to me quite as much authenticity as, for instance, Brancusi’s studio in Paris.”

Elsa was a poet of found objects, but she didn’t leave them as they were—she transformed them into works of art.

Elsa exploded in fury when the US declared war on her motherland, on Good Friday, 6 April 1917. Her ­target was the Society of Indepen­dent Artists, whose representatives had consistently cold-shouldered her. We believe she submitted an upside-down urinal, signed R. Mutt in a script similar to the one she sometimes used for her poems. [...]

If Duchamp did not submit the urinal, why would he pretend later that he did? After Elsa died in 1927, forgotten and in abject poverty, Duchamp began to let his name be associated with the urinal, and by 1950, four years after the death of Alfred Stieglitz, who photographed the original Fountain, he began to assume its authorship.

After he reluctantly abandoned his ambition to become a professional chess champion in 1933, Duchamp started to rebuild his artistic career by repackaging his early work. The problem was that there was not much of it. Only one of his original Readymades still existed, forgotten, in a drawer in Walter Arensberg’s desk. It is from this period, beginning in 1936, that replicas of the “lost” Readymades began to appear. Elsa’s urinal plugged a hole, but to make it his own Duchamp turned it into an attack on art itself.

Anyone who has ever had a tooth drilled knows the feeling of leaving the dentist’s office with lips involuntarily grimacing as the anaesthetic numbs the senses. Now imagine a painter who has similarly lost all feeling in their hands. This is just one of the techniques that New York-based Ryan Estep – one of the cutting-edge artists at the forefront of the current zeitgeist for process-based art – has devised in his highly performative, almost ritualistic art practice, where his methods and materials are as important as the abstract paintings themselves.

“I layer the lidocaine [the numbing agent used by dentists before uncomfortable procedures] onto the white,” explains Estep, “which has been painted around the edges with black paint.” At this point he takes the canvas off of the stretcher and, in a nod to his former work as an art technician, restretches it, but this time disturbing the still-wet borders and creating smudgy mistakes as he loses all feeling in his hands. This audacious dulling of the senses raises questions of authorship, randomness and the very idea of painting – while also creating beautiful works.

“The materials and methods sit mostly within the canon of manual labour,” Estep explains, hinting at the discrepancy between the physical work that goes into his paintings and their eventual impracticality. Asked about the safety of the procedure, Estep, a robust and charismatic 33-year-old, shrugs his lack of concern. More worryingly, he then laughingly recalls one time when he got the measurements wrong and lay completely immobilised on his studio floor for several hours.

A step too  far - the artist's numbness appears to stretch much further north than just his hands.

As the market has endorsed and enriched him, Koons has swollen, in his two latest series “Antiquity” and “Gazing Ball”, into the most tedious self-imitation. “Balloon Venus” blends his own inflatables lexicon with the archaic forms of the Venus of Willendorf. Outsize plaster replicas of classical figures – “Farnese Hercules”, “Ariadne” – bearing bright balloon-like glass spheres are destined, no more and no less than the garden ornaments they incorporate, for manicured suburban lawns.

“He says, if you’re critical, you’re already out of the game,” announced Koons’s dealer David Zwirner when these repetitive follies launched last year. Dollar power goes some way to explaining why Koons’s smooth sales-speak – “when people make judgments, they close all the possibility around them” – is not seen for what it is: a reversal of the spirit of intellectual openness that has allowed art to flourish since the Enlightenment. And of course it is obvious why Koons, like any entrepreneur boasting a luxury monopoly, directs his factory to produce a controlled stream of high-end, high-tech baubles. Less obvious is why this trading currency for the super-rich should interest the rest of us, or why museums and critics are endorsing it.

The Burrell has always been able to make loans within the UK: the Rembrandt was at the National’s exhibition of self-portraits a few years ago and a substantial group was shown at The Hayward in the 1970s.

What’s new is being able to loan abroad, which was not permitted under the terms of the original gift.  Maybe in future, if it needs the money, the Wallace might consider breaking the will of its donor?

Murphy, 60, was informed of the management change at a meeting with Pinault in late November, one of the people said. Christie’s and Murphy said Dec. 2 the decision was mutual.

Mr Murphy’s resignation raises questions about whether he paid too high a price for rapid growth in his four years at the helm, squeezing profits by expanding into India and China, while competing intensely for prestigious sales by offering guarantees and side deals to entice family estates and wealthy sellers. The irony of the art auction world is that the record-setting London and New York auctions for which they are best known can produce little, if any, profit.

“It has increasingly become the case that these types of sales — for both houses — are not centres of profitability in any way,” says Michael Plummer, co-founder of the New York-based advisory firm Artvest. “The competitive pressure gets worse every year, as do the amount of guarantees, and consequently the risks for both houses.“

According to auction house executives in Miami for Art Basel, multiple cases in which guarantees on major lots garnered heavy media attention but no profit for Christie's resulted in Murphy being pushed out from his post as CEO.

“You've got two CEOs who've been battling madly for market shares and their margins seem, by many accounts, to have got smaller and smaller," commented an industry insider who spoke to artnet News on the condition of anonymity. “So in one case, a slightly aggressive, disrupted board, and in the other case a company owner, appear to have said ‘enough is enough'."

“We are at a record time for the art market, but it seems these two have battled so hard they might not have turned that into record profits," she added.

Research has shown that the ornately carved frame was in all likelihood made for the painting, but it would not have looked like this in the 17th century. It would have been gilded – the dazzling finishing touch to the depiction of a dazzling collection. Six years ago, we raised money to have the painting cleaned and conserved. Now we want to re-gild the frame and restore this masterpiece in its entirety to its former glory.

I'm all for having the 'Paston Treasure' re-gilded (and I might consider bunging them a few quid) but £14,500!!?? Is this the best quote they could get?!

I'm clearly in the wrong business.

The Trustees of the National Gallery are delighted to announce that Hannah Rothschild has been appointed by them as Chair of the Board.

Hannah Rothschild will take over as Chair from Mark Getty, who will step down from the role when his current term comes to an end on 10 August 2015.

Hannah Rothschild, a writer and filmmaker, has served on the Gallery’s Board since March 2009. She will be the first woman Chair of the National Gallery.

Speaking on her appointment, Hannah said “From a very young age, the National Gallery has been a source of inspiration and solace. It is a great honour to be elected as its Chair to succeed Mark Getty in August 2015 and to work with fellow trustees to ensure that the collection is protected, that general admission remains free and that the National Gallery’s exhibition, education, science, academic and conservation programmes continue to be internationally respected and challenging.”

Mark Getty said “Hannah Rothschild has been an outstanding Board member for more than 5 years and I am delighted that she is to succeed me as Chair. With her passion for and commitment to the National Gallery, she will work alongside the next Director to provide the leadership the Gallery needs in the years ahead.”

National Gallery Director, Dr Nicholas Penny said “Hannah Rothschild has defended the National Gallery interests and supported its ambitions with energy and imagination. She will be an exceptionally committed Chair.”

Secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport, Sajid Javid said “The National Gallery is one of this country’s most important and well-loved museums and galleries - a cultural success story with visitor numbers at unprecedented levels of over six million a year. So I welcome Hannah Rothschild's appointment as their next Chair. Her experience of the gallery will build on the successes achieved under the chairmanship of Mark Getty.  I am confident that the National Gallery's development as a home of artistic, educational and research excellence will continue.”

Hannah Rothschild’s first term as Chair will last until March 2017 when she will be eligible to serve a further term, subject to the Prime Minister’s consideration at the appropriate time of any reappointment as a trustee.

This is very sad if unsurprising news. 

Reading his column massively brightened the commute home and his writing was not only hugely entertaining but a great way into art. Proof, as he would say, that if you don't dumb down and underestimate your audience you will take them with you. 

p.s. If you haven't read them, his memoirs include some gold standard anecdotes. The Salvidor Dali one takes some beating. 

You asked for some thoughts on the British Museum’s loan of one of the Parthenon marbles to the Hermitage Museum in Leningrad. In principle I’ve no objection to the BM lending one of the sculptures that it owns and as for the objections of the Greeks, or anyone else for that matter, they can go to hell. Their nationalist whining is sickening and only makes me more determined that they should never, ever have the Parthenon sculptures back in Athens!

I am, however, very concerned that the British Museum is so determined to lend its objects to any and every quarter of the globe while failing abjectly to provide comprehensive, public display of its collections at the main museum in Bloomsbury.  For example, the Museum of Mankind closed in 1997 but the BM still has not opened displays of its collections of Central & South American cultures ( other than Mexico ), Australasia and Oceania: this despite galleries for these collections being in their development plans and then disappearing when the new exhibition building was mooted.  How long, for instance,  do those who want to visit and study the finest collection of Pacific art in existence have to wait before it is displayed in London?

Or take the Egyptian collection.  Four exhibition rooms have “disappeared” since the late 1990s; three swallowed up by the Great Court.  Is it any wonder then that the display of Egyptian culture at the BM is so piece-meal and arbitrary? Where can you see Egyptian pottery or Amarna sculpture at Bloomsbury , for example?  You cannot: there is no chronological or coherent display at all as the galleries jump around from Early Dynasties to mummies to 18th Dynasty wall paintings.  Rare and important objects such as the 6th Dynasty wooden statue of Meryrehashtep or the gold bracelets of Prince Nimlot are never exhibited at all in Bloomsbury these days ( but I saw the latter on loan to the Met the other month).

It seems that any old exhibition or museum can count on borrowing objects from the BM while the British visitor ( and tax payer ) and international visitors are  deprived of wonderful collections and individual objects which they should be able to see, study and experience in London.

The question is: having lent it are we going to get it back, given Lilyputin's demonstration of acquisitiveness in the Crimea?

A few thoughts on the Marbles. Regarding lending them out, seems a good thing although this isn't part of an exhibition. Lending to Russia, less so but perhaps it's a victory for culture over aggression.

But on the wider Marbles debate which is not quite the issue at hand but as everyone else will mention it. 

This issue gets caught up in Las Malvinas-esq nationalism but put simply, it would be better if the remaining marbles were on display together, in their original layout and in sight of the building which they not only adorned but were part of (which is why Elgin's men had such difficulty getting them). A building which UNESCO considers so important it uses it as it's logo. It would be interesting to hear someone claim a gloomy, grey room in Bloomsbury is a more appropriate setting. 

Returning them would not be about giving in to Greek demands, it would be about reunifying two parts of a wider artistic whole. I cannot see how a lover of art would not be curious to see the remaining pieces, which are of such importance to Western culture, together again. 

Would it not be a better scenario to have the originals in Athens and the casts in London? Thereby still allowing their impact on world culture to understood.

And no you can't restore all of them or indeed rebuild the Parthenon in the same way you can't undo Lord Duveen's 'cleaning' but no one is suggesting that and you should never let best become the enemy of better. 

"Whoever calls me a forger," Mr. Goller insists, "is lying. I only paint in the style of the Old Masters. I add patina and crackle for decoration. You can't call that a forgery." He goes on: "I think copies make art accessible. Everybody can afford to hang a Grunewald in his house." Mr. Goller emphasizes that he does not add any artist's signature to what he calls his reconstructions, and he sells them for what they are. He says he is not responsible for the claims others make for them.

The collar (ie chain) worn in the “Charles V” portrait is in fact that of the Order of the Golden Fleece but without the fleece badge (ie pendant) itself. Although I’m a bit of an anorak on such things, I don’t know if the collar was ever worn without the badge, though I suspect not.

The Emperor Charles V while not wearing the badge of the Order of the Golden Fleece is wearing the collar of the order. However, I have never seen the one without the other and since it was made of gold would not appear red!

I mentioned a while back that I thought certain collections seem to be favoured in the allocation of AIL items.  A crunching of the numbers from the reports covering the last five years now provides some interesting results.

It should be borne in mind that the figures below only include entire cases where an allocation has been confirmed: it does not include cases which consist of groups of objects split between institutions, as individual valuations are not available.

Since 2009, tax written off in AIL cases amounts to £97.74 million.  Of this total the following are the main beneficiaries:

1. The Ashmolean, Oxford  £14.97 million (15.6%)

If one considers the University of Oxford as a whole, a further £1.17 million needs to be added to this total to cover The Bodlian.

2. The National Trust  £13.63 million (14.2%)

Allocations include land. The amount is not surprising given the Trust previously accepted property without chattels and these are surrendered on a regular basis.

3. The Fitzwilliam, Cambridge   £11.51 million (12%)

4. The National Gallery, London   £5.60 million (5.9%)

5. The National Gallery of Scotland, Edinburgh  £3.4 million (3.7%)