BEIJING -- Dissident artist Ai Weiwei's latest provocative piece was handed to him by the Chinese government: a $2.4 million tax bill that he says is a trumped-up effort to silence him.
Read more: http://www.miamiherald.com/2011/11/17/2506167/ai-weiwei-makes-tax-battle-a-so...
Posted on Friday, 11.18.11 In Miami Herald
A proposed $35 million gift from developer Jorge Perez to the Miami Art Museum, with naming rights, is raising the ire of several board members who say the institution’s name should not be for sale.
http://www.miamiherald.com/2011/11/17/2507449/dissent-over-proposed-gift-new.html#
November 16, 2011
Last week’s outrageous auction results have left dealers and savvy collectors giddy, puzzled and mentally exhausted. A number of works soared to stupefying heights, defying the gravity of the euro crisis, the Middle East madness and the unexpected softening of gold prices. How and why, at times like these, can art values continue to peak, and Sotheby’s proudly report that it had the third-highest Contemporary sale results in its entire history?
Spending some quality rehash time with sophisticated dealers and collectors revealed that all is not as hunky dory as it appears, and that the market has bifurcated into two distinct price ranges: the items that sell for $4 million and below, and the stuff that brings out the Monopoly money.
Let’s start with the Monopoly money art. What is it? It’s the art that sells for prices that no one can imagine or understand, like two large abstract paintings by Gerhard Richter, one that made $21 million at Sotheby’s last Wednesday and another that capped out at the same sale at $18 million. Only a year ago a similar and perhaps better one fetched $10 million at auction, a price that seemed awfully high at the time, so how can it be that a 79-year-old artist’s work has doubled in a year of financial crisis? What makes these results even more strange is the rumor that these pictures had been on the market for a while, with no buyers anywhere near these levels. But let’s not forget the early and important black and white photorealist Richter painting that didn’t find any takers in the sale at Christie’s last Tuesday night. The photorealist paintings are the more significant and historic works from Mr. Richter’s oeuvre, and yet the historically “important” art found no buyer while the pretty, colorful abstractions sold for double their presale estimates.
Then there was the unusual case of the four rare and handsome Clyfford Stills sold by the artist’s estate to raise money for the Still museum in Denver, Colo. They all sold unbelievably well, but one of them made an outrageous $61 million that night, a number that astounded even the Sotheby’s experts; you could read it on their wide-eyed faces (see them on my website, www.adamlindemann.com). Only two or three years ago, Bob Mnuchin of L+M gallery offered me a similar large Still painting for $20-some million and I thought he was daft, but after these results, am I now supposed to believe that was a bargain?
Usually when a group of works by a single artist comes up for sale, you can expect to see some casualties, but in the cases of the Richters and the Stills, the auction house invested in the hype of promotion and marketing, and managed to create a feeding frenzy on the night of the sale.
During the Sotheby’s sale hundreds from the art handlers’ union protested raucously outside in Occupy Wall Street style, making the 1 percent (we rich people) feel really weird about the whole art-selling spectacle. But $20 million and $60 million prices are a phenomenon that can spark only among the 1 percent of the 1 percent—those who have seemingly infinite money to spend, and who seem to want to spend it mainly at auction, paying double what they would pay for the same artwork in a gallery. The “real” art market that transacts underneath these inflated, theatrical prices is often struggling and slow, and though things are still moving these days, there’s difficulty, and bargaining, and plenty of teeth grinding.
Drop down in price from the crazy-money pictures, and you’ll quickly find that most evening sale lots fall in the $3 million to $5 million range, and though a few outperform, for the most part works sell at the low end of their presale estimates. Far too often the “better,” “smarter” and more historical pieces are the ones that tend to underperform, while the flashy and commercial stuff finds the less sophisticated “bourgeois” audience, the people who like only pretty if inconsequential pictures. Take for example a historic though small 1964 Warhol Car Crash that was rumored to be mine. I watched as it was hammered down at its low estimate of $3.8 million while a decorative but otherwise inconsequential 1981 Warhol Mickey Mouse painting from the “Myths” series made a robust $3.5 million, about the same money one of Warhol’s fashiony Brigitte Bardot portraits would have made. The Car Crash is a piece of art history, but auction buyers aren’t the types to hang “Five Deaths” on their wall. For the same money, they’d rather put up a colorful Mickey Mouse or a big bold Warhol Dollar Sign, one of which went for $3.6 million that night.
Take the classic Charlie Ray glass sculpture that made a realistic $3.1 million, while Cady Noland’s Oozewald sculpture soared to $6.6 million. I don’t consider myself to be overly stupid, but the facts would seem to point to it: I was offered the same or a similar Noland piece a few months ago for $2.5 million, and I thought it was a joke. Cady Noland has become a hard-to-get, cultish, niche artist. She stopped making work years ago, she doesn’t allow visitors, and she’s supposedly borderline insane, but who cares? That type of result bears no relation to reality—but then again, perhaps auction results don’t have to.
A classic and historic 1999 Takashi Murakami DOB in the Strange Forest sculpture barely squeaked by at $2.7 million, but another work from this edition of three made $3.5 million in 2008, which even then was a disappointing result considering its alleged guarantee at a full $5 million: so some good works are definitely still on their way down right now. How about a large and important 1989 Richard Prince monochrome joke painting selling for only $2.7 million, when that same picture in a gallery would be quoted at a minimum of $3.5 million? Confusing as this may seem to the auction market onlookers, the art market has split, with the top, trendy lots selling for funny money, and the “value” pictures struggling in the backwash. You can often see the strong dealers step in to pick up the valuable casualties, but in this time of financial crisis, even the richest of them are nervous about what may or may not happen in the future, and they’ve become more and more conservative, usually dropping out above the $3 million level.
Am I predicting a market crash? Absolutely not. I’m a believer in art’s value, but I can’t help but sympathize with the protesters, though my personal protest is a little different: I think outlandish and irrational prices jilt the whole picture out of perspective because I know for a fact that there’s plenty of death and disaster in the market. Contrary to public perception it’s not all peaches and crème. Last week at auction we witnessed “La vie en rose,” a time when in a bad economy a single and beautiful Andreas Gursky photograph made $4.3 million, a world record for a photograph at auction, when for the same money I would have bought Jeff Koons’s iconic 1985 Two Ball Total Equilibrium Tank, even though it doesn’t decorate a living room wall. But quality doesn’t always sell well in this environment, and sometimes, as in the case of the 1960s photorealist Richter portrait, it doesn’t sell at all.
If last week the art market could speak, it would have cackled and then quoted the great Mark Twain by saying, “The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated.” But even putting those spectacular Monopoly money trades aside, the proof was still in the pudding; most of the artworks successfully found new homes at reasonable if not modestly bullish prices. So what’s my advice to those intrepid collectors like myself who are committed to moving forward? These days I’ll take my cue from the wisdom of old Ben Franklin, who once said: “Believe none of what you hear and half of what you see.”
The art market may be entering another Blue Period—as in blue chips. The major fall art auctions that concluded Thursday in New York fell slightly in terms of total sales from a year ago, but collectors and investors looking to store their cash in art found plenty of useful trophies this time around.
New York's chief auction houses, Sotheby's and Christie's International, brought in about $1 billion combined from their semiannual sales of Impressionist, modern and contemporary art, a total short of last fall's $1.1 billion mark but nearly double the tally two years ago. While stocks have been volatile—peaking in April and then experiencing ups and downs amid worries about recession and European debt default—the art market has held relatively steady.
Sotheby's handily won this round by selling $599.8 million, besting Christie's $496.3 million total. Sotheby's secret lay mainly in newer art: On Wednesday, Sotheby's $315.8 million evening sale of contemporary art eclipsed the house's entire two-day sale of older artists like Pablo Picasso held the week before.
Dealers said that with so many Impressionist masterpieces in museums now, collectors seeking marquee pieces must scour 20th-century offerings instead.
With so much demand for contemporary art, here are a few lessons learned:
Clyfford Still, an Abstract Expressionist known for covering his canvases in serrated strips of color, rarely turns up at auction. That partly explains why collectors lined up to pay Sotheby's $114 million for a quartet of his paintings sold by the city of Denver to raise funds for the artist's new namesake museum there.
The priciest of the Still paintings, "1949-A-No. 1," sold to a telephone bidder for $61.7 million—besting its $35 million high estimate and setting a record for the artist. A phone bidder paid $31.4 million for Still's "1947-Y-No. 2."
A rare, early comic-style painting by Roy Lichtenstein—the 1961 "I Can See the Whole Room … and There's Nobody in It!" sold at Christie's to private dealer Guy Bennett for a record $43.2 million, over its $35 million high estimate.
German painter Gerhard Richter has also emerged as a market force to be reckoned with alongside Picasso, Willem de Kooning and Andy Warhol. Mr. Richter is best known for his quiet, photorealistic depictions of candles, but prices are ticking up now for his "Abstract Painting" series, in which he uses a squeegee to scrape over layers of colorful paint.
On Wednesday, Sotheby's tested his global appeal by offering seven of these abstracts—and sold them back to back. Mr. Richter's fuschia-blue "Abstract Painting," a wall-sized work from 1997, sold for a record $20.8 million, over its $12 million high estimate. His neon-hued "Abstract Painting" from 1992 sold for $14.1 million, over its $7.5 million high estimate. The total haul: $74 million, way over the $16 million the house got for seven Warhols in this sale.
To be sure, Warhol's prices in any sale hinge on rarity and quality, and Christie's got $16.3 million alone for his 1963 "Silver Liz" on Tuesday.
Besides Mr. Richter, collectors also reset the high bar for at least 22 other artists this time around, including Louise Bourgeois, whose 1996 "Spider" bronze sold at Christie's for a record $10.7 million, and Joan Mitchell, whose untitled abstract sold for a record $9.3 million at Sotheby's. Andreas Gursky's serene river view, "Rhein II," also became the world's priciest photograph when Christie's sold it for $4.3 million, taking over a title long held by Cindy Sherman.
Morning class at the Miami City Ballet had just ended one day in late September when the dancers and staff gathered in the main studio for a companywide meeting with their founder, artistic director and patriarch, Edward Villella.
Mr. Villella spoke of his pride in them and his joy at the success of a recent Paris tour. And then, pushing down sobs, he read a news release with stunning news: Mr. Villella would leave the company after next season. The dancers gasped, wept and hugged. At a board meeting later that day they streamed in looking for answers.
For many of them Mr. Villella was the only artistic director they had ever known. For Miami he was the force behind one of the nation’s finest regional companies, a troupe at the height of its renown. For the dance world he was a legend, one of the greatest male dancers produced by the United States.
The company’s board leadership called Mr. Villella’s departure a mutual decision. But although his age — 75 — suggests that retirement was not far off, Mr. Villella was forced out, according to recent interviews with his supporters on the board, friends and others familiar with the company.
“He’s still working like dynamite,” said Bob Avian, a board member. “Personally I’m very upset that Edward’s been relieved.”
Jennifer Carlynn Kronenberg, a veteran principal dancer, said Mr. Villella was not leaving of his own will. “All of us felt that he had more to give,” she said.
Mr. Villella’s departure appears to stem from gathering friction with key board members regarding questions of authority, the company’s financial future and who holds ultimate sway over a ballet troupe that was artistically synonymous with Mr. Villella but financially dependent on wealthy Floridians.
Mr. Villella declined to discuss the reason for his departure. He did point out, however, that he was in excellent health and full of energy. “I’m not the retiring type, shall we say,” Mr. Villella said in an interview in New York, where he and his wife, Linda, who runs the company’s ballet school, were looking for a new place to live. “But there are many, many things that I haven’t done, and I shall pursue those.”
They include writing, teaching and working on a multimedia dance project, he added. He will depart in the spring of 2013, but under an unpublicized agreement with the company he will be paid for another year.
“I love what I do,” Mr. Villella said. “I love my dancers. Will I be sad when I leave them? Sure I will be. But that’s a normal thing. These are my guys.”
His supporters argue that meddling by board members in administrative matters reached an intolerable level. Mr. Villella — who has a pugnacious streak — may have stoked resentment by turning his back on his board critics, not even greeting several of them at a gala in Miami last March.
“They don’t want it to be Edward Villella’s company anymore,” Alfred Allan Lewis, a donor, said of influential board members. “They want it to be their company.” He acknowledged that Mr. Villella made enemies. “He is not very good at playing the social games,” he said.
On the other side few board members would speak on the record for fear that controversy would harm fund-raising. Two members, while praising his artistry and contribution, suggested it was becoming difficult to raise money because donors questioned the company’s viability given Mr. Villella’s age and the lack of a concrete succession plan.
“Because he’s so wonderful, it almost becomes a liability because people say: ‘What do you have without him? Nothing,’ ” said one board member, who spoke on condition of anonymity to avoid offending Mr. Villella. This board member compared him to an aging corporate titan who created a business but did not have the perspective to know when to leave. “My only motivation is, how does this company thrive and be here for the long term?” the board member said.
The board president, James Eroncig, said he was new to the board and not involved in the negotiation of Mr. Villella’s departure. “It was a fait accompli,” he said.
Another member, R. Kirk Landon, acknowledged that he had given Mr. Villella a book about corporate transitions at a meeting between the two early this year. “It was time to start worrying about succession,” he said.
The announcement of Mr. Villella’s departure was preceded by a change in status. An agreement in April removed “chief executive officer” from his job description, said Pamela N. Gardiner, the outgoing executive director, although the title remained on the company’s Web site as of Sunday.
On Nov. 1 the company announced it had hired Nicholas T. Goldsborough, an experienced administrator and fund-raiser, as the new executive director. He will report directly to the board instead of to Mr. Villella as Ms. Gardiner did. She will remain, with the title of executive vice president for artistic affairs. The shift was an indication of the board leadership’s desire for, as Ms. Gardiner put it, “more of a business model rather than an artistic model.”
Mr. Goldsborough’s arrival signals new ambitions. He said in an interview that he hopes to raise a substantial endowment, perhaps $30 million or $40 million, compared to the roughly $2 million endowment now. Mr. Eroncig, the board president, expressed hope for more televised performances and an annual appearance in New York.
The company has experienced a string of deficits and declining box office earnings in recent years, and, Mr. Villella said, finances remain precarious. Nevertheless, the 43-member Miami City Ballet has established itself as one of the finest regional companies, punching far above its weight, with a $14.5 million budget. A wealth of talented young dancers fill the ranks. It is coming off a recent high: its first nationally broadcast PBS special; critically praised performances at City Center in 2009, the company’s New York debut; and the triumphant three-week visit to Paris in July. In March it will perform a new work by the leading choreographer Alexei Ratmansky in a collaboration with the Cleveland Orchestra.
Mr. Villella cuts a small figure, his hair still jet black, his body manifestly creaky from the ravages of a dance career. He has had three hip replacements. “It became a habit,” he said.
In another era he was a magnetic star at George Balanchine’s New York City Ballet and a personality in the popular culture who oftenappeared on television, a symbol of working-class grit amid ballet-world chiffon. The son of a trucking company owner, he grew up in Bayside, Queens, and attended New York Maritime College, where he was school welterweight boxing champion and lettered in baseball. He danced at President John F. Kennedy’s inauguration and was a rare American to give an encore at the Bolshoi Ballet in Moscow. “I thought it was the moment of my life,” he said. “I thought I would never experience anything like that again — until Paris.”
Mr. Villella brought the Balanchine style to Miami and turned the company into a leading repository of the tradition. He also broadened the repertory to include works by Twyla Tharp, Paul Taylor and others, as well as full-length ballets.
The company’s leadership insists that it wants to continue the Balanchine tradition with its next artistic leader, whom the board expects to name by the spring. But the pool of candidates with a depth of Balanchine knowledge is small.
Mr. Villella’s dancing career came to a halt abruptly because of a deteriorated hip, but he managed to return to dance briefly, ensuring that he would go out on his own terms. He declined to draw a parallel between the end of his dancing and artistic director’s phases, only saying: “It’s really about the dancers. I wanted to make a company I would have liked to dance in.”
Mr. Eroncig, the board president, said Mr. Villella would be suitably honored. He did not rule out a statue.