Cari Vuong
ART AND THE MAN | Paul Kasmin
TURNING GOOD TASTE INTO A BUSINESS is a tricky thing. London-born, New York-based contemporary art dealer Paul Kasmin stands out—not just as one of Manhattan’s snappiest dressers, but as an example of the special success that can come from following one’s eye. Since opening his Chelsea gallery in 1989, Mr. Kasmin has consistently championed the work of artists slightly outside the familiar, people not yet well known enough to be thought of as an “investment,” often creating a market where there was none before. The careers of Walton Ford, James Nares and Ivan Navarro have benefited from Mr. Kasmin’s irreverent connoisseurship and willingness to take a chance on the art he loves.
This month at Paul Kasmin Gallery is a celebration of the work of Claude and François-Xavier Lalanne, the husband-and-wife sculpture and decorative arts team whose fame has been quietly growing since the ’70s. Mr. Kasmin was the first to show the Lalannes’ work in the United States. To accompany the exhibition (which ends June 16), and as a tribute to François-Xavier, who died in 2008, Mr. Kasmin has produced a book of his own photographs of the Lalannes’ home and studio. Eight years of collaboration and friendship are chronicled, and the result is a tender love letter to an eccentric and beguiling body of work.
Paul Kasmin GalleryAi Weiwei exhibit at Paul Kasmin Gallery
Mr. Kasmin, 52, lives with his two daughters in a townhouse apartment near Central Park. His home is filled with paintings and objects from any and all periods—”ancient to medieval to contemporary,” he explained—but most of the furniture is by the zany and joyful Mattia Bonetti, whom Mr. Kasmin represents. Downtown, business is booming. Last year, he opened a second gallery space on 27th Street, in the building that formerly housed the nightclub Bungalow 8.
My dream artist to represent—living or dead—is Walton Ford. Dreams can come true, I guess.
My advice to novice collectors is to just buy what interests you. Fear of being wrong is the single greatest obstacle to educating yourself and building a good collection.
The biggest influences on my personal style are my father—an art dealer who definitely knew how to dress—and my old friend Jasper Conran. Growing up in England, I didn’t like wearing a uniform at school, but it did make me appreciate the beauty of good clothes.
My 21st birthday was at One Fifth, a restaurant that figured largely on the scene in the New York of the 1980s. I did go out a lot then, to Limelight, to Area—but I wasn’t out of control.
Paul Kasmin Gallery
‘Babouin’ fireplace by François-Xavier Lalanne
In my childhood, the most exciting thing was my first visit to New York with my dad, in 1970. Even though I was only around 10, he took me with him to see all the artists and hip people he was visiting. We went to the Factory. Coming from England, nothing prepared me for how much I would be blown away by New York. And here I am.
If I could own any work by the Lalannes it would be two—the “Babouin” fireplace by François-Xavier, and the “Choupatte” by Claude. And if I could build a museum for the Lalannes’ work, Markus Dochantschi of Studio MDA is the architect I would choose.
A collector whose taste I admire is Tom Ford. Nobody tells him what to think. He has very sophisticated and individual taste. Everybody would say that about him as a fashion designer, but I mean as an art collector. He and I commissioned Claude [Lalanne] to make a crocodile desk.
An art collection I covet is the Beyeler Foundation.
It’s a coincidence that two of my favorite artists, Walton Ford and the Lalannes, are known for animals. I love animals, but I was drawn to these artists for different reasons.
The best designed hotel is the Hotel Americano right here in Chelsea.
Between Café de Flore and Deux Magots, it’s definitely the Flore for me.
My favorite movie is “Monsieur Hulot’s Holiday,” by Jacques Tati—for the music, the sounds, the inventiveness, the brilliant humor, the depiction of France as it was in that period.
My glasses are from Cutler and Gross.
Marvis toothpaste
T he toothpaste I use is called Marvis, which comes from Florence in a very interesting looking rococo-style tube.
I have my own take on the English thing where you’re supposed to be in love with a country house, your garden and all that—I rent what is basically a shed in Millbrook. It’s a little like a painter’s studio, with two little bedrooms for my daughters and a lot of etchings by Hogarth, for rogue effect.
I just got back from Burma, which was a marvelous trip because there are fewer and fewer places you can go now that are really uncorrupted by modern life. We spent a few days walking the hills, and the country, I found, was everything I wanted it to be.
—Edited from an interview by David Netto
A version of this article appeared May 19, 2012 in WSJ print edition.
