The Upper East Side
It’s possible that the Upper East Side changed the night last September when the fire department broke up the disco party at 980 Madison. The building houses, among other businesses, a luxury spa and Gagosian Gallery. Soon it will have a Gagosian-owned “neighborhood restaurant,” as Larry Gagosian described it in a recent interview with Peter Brant. There will be chili. And waffles.
On the third floor of 980 Madison is Venus Over Manhattan, an art space opened last year by Adam Lindemann, a contributor to this paper and the disco party’s host. The crowd had gathered to celebrate a show by the artist Peter Coffin. Young women carried trays of tequila shots. Around 8 p.m., the festivities moved down the hall to a room dimly lit with red lights. From the street, you could hear DJ Harvey playing records. Professional roller skaters skated around on glowing LED wheels. A cluster of young men and women nonchalantly smoked near the entrance.
When the fire trucks came, part of the crowd decamped across Madison Avenue to Bemelmans Bar at the Carlyle, where a pianist played selections from the Great American Songbook and the martinis cost $21.
If you visit the artist Wes Lang at his studio, we’ve heard, you might get “sucked into the porn hole.” He’s apparently got a lot of porn magazines lying around. The artist said so himself in a Vice video from a few years back. Thursday night, the artist has a new show, “Here Comes Sunshine,” opening at Half Gallery, Bill Powers’s enterprise on the Lower East Side, at which the artist will unveil 10 new works, including drawings and paintings using color pencil, airbrush and automotive paint on steel. Of the work we’ve seen in the show, it seems Mr. Lang is still kind of loitering in the porn hole. And his work still takes its cues from “tattoo flash” and other Americana—the artist’s own body is covered in tattoos. Yet, while Mr. Lang’s work has been known to push the envelope—he got booted from a group show at Deitch Projects in 2007 for including works that had images of African-American stereotypes—his latest work seems pretty tame.
nada New York 2012
On the roof of NADA, Exhibition A has set up a “flash gallery” with three wood walls presenting prints by Aurel Schmidt, whose work is on view for the first day of the fair.
“This is like the 1% of the 99%,” a guest said last night at the Top of the Standard, where Audrey Gelman of Downtown for Democracy and Aaron Bondaroff of Ohwow were hosting a party for their new handbook, The Pocket Guide to Politics.
The next book from the Karma bookstore‘s in-house imprint will be a novella by dealer and art world personality Bill Powers, Gallerist has learned. The artist Richard Prince has provided cover art for the book, titled What We Lose in Flowers…, which incorporates DVD labels, a convention seen at his recent show at Read More
Work of Art
So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen™, adieu. Last night, it was indeed that time again, that tragic hour when the last of the fresh-faced gaggle of not-so-good artists must wave goodbye to the party, that art world soirée to which only the greats are invited. For Wednesday heralded the finale of Bravo’s Work of Art: The Read More
Quality restaurant art is nothing new, especially in New York. When it opened in the late ’50s, the Four Seasons Restaurant, in the iconic Seagrams Building, had art by Picasso, Miró and Jackson Pollock on the walls. (The dining room was meant to get a series by Mark Rothko, but he pulled out of the project, and the paintings now hang in three museums.) The food/art nexus may have culminated with the freewheeling 1970s, when Gordon Matta-Clark had his restaurant, Food, in Soho—compared with that, most restaurant offerings seem pretty staid. These days, you can go to Casa Lever, in the architecturally groovy Lever House, and gaze at myriad Warhol prints of celebrities—Hitchcock, Sly Stallone—while you’re eating your $52 “Costata” T-bone steak. And if you’re looking for something a bit more classical, there’s always Maxfield Parrish’s monumental mural, Old King Cole, which hangs elegantly above the bar in the St. Regis Hotel. But a new joint set to open by the end of the year is bringing New York restaurant art to a whole new level of downtown hipness.
Work of Art
The art world is in Miami. The Sucklord has been booted from the rarefied realm of reality television and is lurking somewhere, probably in Miami. So what do we have left, here at home, to be thankful for? Why, the fact that the search for the next great artist continues for us on the Bravo cable television channel, of course. On Wednesday night, there were seven contestants left in the art-critical arena, and yes, they were challenged, as all artists have been since time immemorial, with the task of creating art to please car-manufacturing television sponsors.
The line for the Terry Richardson show “MOM DAD” at Half Gallery on Friday was a clamoring, clustering thing, attractive people waving and desperate to squeeze into a space that, true to its name, isn’t very big. It was a bit like the opening of a nightclub, with everyone trying to be aloof and desperate at the same time, though there was very little order to it. Half Gallery owner Bill Powers came to the front from time to time and poked his pink sunglasses glasses around the door frame to point to people who were cool (e.g. “James!”—James Frey, of course).
Work of Art
In this week’s installment of a certain Bravo reality television show, viewers nationwide were confronted with a fatal jet-skiing accident, sexual harassment, a discussion about the appropriate setting in which to consume a Pimm’s No. 1 Cup, and lots of boobs. Surprisingly enough, however, there were no real housewives involved. The television program of which I speak is actually Work of Art: The Next Great Artist, and thankfully a real artist (guest judge Rob Pruitt) dropped by before the hour ended and steered the show in the direction of, you know, ART, albeit for like 12 seconds.