The George Lindemann Journal by George Lindemann

CHINA’S leaders have tried honoring Ai Weiwei and bribing him with the offer of high positions. They have tried jailing him, fining him and clubbing him so brutally that he needed emergency brain surgery. In desperation, they have even begged him to behave — and nothing works.

What is the Politburo to do with a superstar artist with a vast global audience like Ai (whose name is pronounced EYE Way-way), who makes a video of himself dancing “Gangnam style” with handcuffs — parodying the Chinese state — that quickly ends up with more than one million views on YouTube?

How should the Central Committee of the Communist Party react when Ai releases a nude self-portrait with a stuffed animal as a fig leaf? The caption was “grass-mud-horse in the center” — a homonym in Chinese for a vulgar curse against the Communist Party’s central leadership. Or, more precisely, against its mother.

One thing the party detests even more than being denounced is being mocked, and humor is the signature element of Ai’s assaults. Other dissidents, like the great writer Liu Xiaobo, a Nobel Peace Prize winner now in prison, write eloquently of democracy but gain little traction among ordinary Chinese: Ai’s artistic work also seems incomprehensible to many people, but obscene jokes about grass-mud-horses can get more traction — and be difficult to quash.

“I think they don’t know how to handle someone like me,” Ai said in an interview. “They kind of give up managing me.”

One challenge for the Communist Party is that Ai, 55, is one of the world’s great artists. He also comes from a family with close ties to the Communist revolution, and his mother and father were friendly with the parents of China’s new top leader, Xi Jinping.

Ai’s emergence as an icon of resistance represents progress in China, a reflection of an unofficial pluralism that is gaining ground. China increasingly reminds me of South Korea or Taiwan in the early 1980s, when an educated middle class was nibbling away at dictatorship.

There is real improvement in China, Ai acknowledges, and he says that he expects democracy to reach China by 2020 — but he laments that it is already overdue. “They have wasted a whole generation of young people,” he said.

Ai’s irreverence seems shaped by the dozen years he spent in New York City burnishing his artistic reputation. He returned to China in 1993, at the age of 36, and initially behaved himself politically and played a role in designing the magnificent Bird’s Nest stadium for the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing.

One factor that changed him was the terrible earthquake of 2008 in Sichuan Province in the southwest, when schools collapsed and the government clamped down on parents protesting shoddy construction. Ai backed the parents and began to demand more openness from the government.

Angered by his antagonism, the authorities had Ai beaten up and then destroyed his studio in Shanghai. Then last year the government detained him for nearly three months.

The authorities still block him from traveling abroad, so he is not able to attend a major exhibition of his work now under way at the Smithsonian’s Hirshhorn Museum in Washington.

The pressure left Ai feeling more strongly than ever that one of China’s biggest problems is autocratic government. He became more outspoken, not less.

“At every step, they pushed me into it,” he said. “I told them, ‘You create people like me.’ ”

After briefly lying low after his imprisonment, Ai has resumed his political pranks. Mocking the authorities for installing 15 cameras to monitor his movements, he broadcast a public “weiweicam” on the Internet with a feed from his bedroom so the government could keep an even closer eye on him.

“They almost begged me to turn it off,” he said with a grin.

At the end of a long conversation, I asked Ai if he had anything else to say.

“China still needs help from the U.S.,” he said. “To insist on certain values, that is the role of the U.S. That is the most important product of American culture. When Hillary Clinton talks about Internet freedom, I think that’s really beautiful.”

There’s a message there for Americans. We have a powerful military, yes, but the “hard power” of missiles is often exceeded by our “soft power” of ideas. Speaking up for our values around the world invariably raises questions of hypocrisy and inconsistency, but it’s better to be an inconsistent advocate of democracy and human rights than to be a consistent advocate of nothing.

I hope the White House listens to how Ai responded when I asked if President Obama was doing enough to raise human rights concerns.

“I don’t know what they’re doing under the table,” Ai said. “But on the surface, they’re not doing enough.”

The artist Chuck Close giving a private tour of his show to students from Bridgeport, Conn.

By PATRICIA COHEN

Published: December 18, 2012

Stationed in front of one of his large self-portraits, the artist Chuck Close raised his customized wheelchair to balance on two wheels, seeming to defy the laws of gravity.

The chair’s unlikely gymnastics underlined the points that Mr. Close was making to his audience, 40 seventh and eighth graders from Bridgeport, Conn.: Break the rules and use limitations to your advantage.

The message had particular resonance for these students, and a few educators and parents, who had come by bus on Monday from Roosevelt School to the Pace Gallery in Chelsea for a private tour of Mr. Close’s show. Roosevelt, located in a community with high unemployment and crushing poverty, recently had one of the worst records of any school in the state, with 80 percent of its seventh graders testing below grade level in reading and math.

Saved from closure by a committed band of parents, the school was one of eight around the country chosen last year to participate in Turnaround Arts, a new federally sponsored public-and-private experiment that puts the arts at the center of the curriculum. Arranging for extra funds for supplies and instruments, teacher training, partnerships with cultural organizations and high-profile mentors like Mr. Close, Turnaround is trying to use the arts to raise academic performance across the board. “Art saved my life,” Mr. Close told the children. And he believes it can save the lives of others, too.

So now he was giving a pizza party and answering a question about why he started to paint.

“I wanted people to notice me, not that I couldn’t remember their faces or add or subtract,” he said, referring to the learning and neurological disabilities that set him apart from his classmates when he was growing up in Monroe, Wash.

A terrible writer and test-taker, Mr. Close used art to make it through school. Instead of handing in a paper, he told the children, “I made a 20-foot-long mural of the Lewis and Clark trail.”

Starting in Pace’s large central gallery, where his giant portraits of other artists like Philip Glass, Paul Simon and Laurie Anderson looked on, Mr. Close told the group that “everything about my work is driven by my learning disabilities.”

Born with prosopagnosia, a condition that prevents him from recognizing faces, Mr. Close explained that the only way he can remember a face is by breaking it down into small “bite-sized” pieces, like the tiny squares or circles of color that make up his paintings and prints.

“I figured out what I had left and I tried to make it work for me,” he said. “Limitations are important.”

With Mr. Close were a few other members of the President’s Committee on the Arts and the Humanities, which helped develop the Turnaround program. One of them, Damian Woetzel, a former principal dancer with the New York City Ballet who is a mentor to two other Turnaround schools, picked up on his theme.

“In dance we limit ourselves, as well,” he said. “There are five positions and everything comes from that,” he added, quickly demonstrating the basic ballet poses.

Filling out the cultural spectrum were the Broadway producer Margo Lion, a chairwoman of the committee, and the musicians Cristina Pato, Shane Shanahan and Kojiro Umezaki, all members of the Silk Road Ensemble, an international collaboration founded by the cellist Yo-Yo Ma, who is also a committee member and a mentor. One by one, they entered from different doors, startling the students with an impromptu concert featuring a tambourine, a gaita (a Spanish bagpipe) and a Chinese flute.

Clapping and stamping in time to the music, Mr. Woetzel soon turned the gallery’s open space into a dance floor. A couple of students whipped out phones to record the proceedings, while others raced across the room to avoid getting pulled in as participants. One reluctant dancer, captured by Rachel Goslins, a filmmaker and the executive director of the president’s committee, rolled his eyes and mouthed “Oh my God” as she circled him around the floor. Other students joined hands and began dancing as Ms. Lion and the school principal, Tania Kelley, her head flung back, swung each other around.

Mr. Close swerved through the crowd in his wheelchair.

“I never danced before,” Carolyn Smith, 13, said excitedly when the music stopped. “Usually I sing.” Carolyn was the lead in the school’s production of “The Wiz” last year. A brain tumor had caused her to miss so much school that her literacy teacher initially wanted her to turn down the part and focus on catching up, Ms. Goslins said. But being in the play — and reading and memorizing the script — helped her reading skills so much, Ms. Goslins said, that the literacy coach later told her, “I’m a believer.”

The afternoon offered a series of firsts for many of the students. Most had never seen such instruments, heard of Mr. Simon or Mr. Glass, or even visited Manhattan.

“It’s pretty cool to be in New York,” said David Morales, 14, who later asked Mr. Close about his technique, explaining, “I like how he makes it, how it comes all together.”

David, like the other Roosevelt students, had studied Mr. Close’s work in class and met him when he visited the school last month. So Mr. Close patiently answered questions.

“Is it easy to make these pictures?” (Well, it can take a while, Mr. Close replied.)

“How do you know what colors to use?” (Trial and error.)

“Can you draw? (Yes.)

“There is no artist who enjoys what he does every day more than I do,” Mr. Close told the group, setting off applause from the students. Repeating advice he often gives to young artists, he said: “Inspiration is for amateurs. The rest of us just show up for work.”

When the bus arrived for the return trip, Ms. Pato and Mr. Shanahan again took up their instruments, this time to lead a parade of clapping students and teachers out the door.

Carolyn Smith, a pink rose in her hair, paused at the doorway and turned to Mr. Close. “I had a blast,” she called out. “Bye, Chuck. See you later.”

Zwirner and Koons. (PMC)

Bogie knew, “you must remember this …” Here are a few art world surprises to remember, and some we’d rather forget.

The Chelsea Flood: Who could ever have imagined that a silly old hurricane would sink the entire Chelsea art district and parts of Red Hook? Sandy not only inundated basement storages; first-floor galleries had their key November exhibitions floating in six feet of dirty seawater. I walked through the tragic scene the morning after, and saw trashed galleries with dirty art dripping and salty. It’s amazing how fast many of Chelsea’s galleries reopened, some acting as if nothing had happened. What’s next, a tsunami?

A Big Top on Randall’s Island: Who needs another art fair … Rio? Istanbul? Phnom Penh? Anywhere but New York, right? How could a city that is filled with galleries and that already hosts the Armory Show (which just sold to the eccentric art magazine publisher Louise Blouin) and the ADAA Art Show possibly handle another fair? Turned out it could—and then some. In May, London’s successful Frieze franchise opened a game-changing new fair housed in a big top tent on Randall’s Island with over 170 international galleries, and thousands of shoppers flocked in. It seems like most buyers today can’t be bothered to take in a gallery show; they want their art product sliced, diced and hung side-by-side in tidy cubicles, so they got what they were looking for. It was a huge success, and confirmed that the fairs—art’s shopping malls—are where it’s at. They’re like the World Series and the Super Bowl of art combined. All that’s missing is stadium vendors selling peanuts and Cracker Jack, and one that yells: “Bee-ah Heeyah!”

Schimmel-Gate in Los Angeles: Nearly three years ago, one of New York’s most beloved impresarios, the inimitable Jeffrey Deitch, gave up his gallery when tapped by his friends on the board of the Los Angeles Museum of Contemporary Art (MoCA) to run their troubled museum. Mr. Deitch was known for discovering new talent and putting on art spectacles that attracted a large and youthful downtown following. When he arrived in L.A., rumors spread that veteran MoCA curator Paul Schimmel was not pleased. Under Mr. Deitch’s direction, a worthy Jack Goldstein retrospective was canceled in favor of a timely Dennis Hopper retrospective. This was only the beginning of bitter infighting between curator and director, infighting that this past summer led to Mr. Schimmel’s departure and prompted all the artists to resign from the museum board, including hometown heroes John Baldessari and Ed Ruscha. The L.A. press was all over it, as were several in the New York art community who had once lauded Mr. Deitch; in lockstep, they all turned on him. Will he remain in L.A. after the museum’s Urs Fischer retrospective this spring? In hindsight, mistakes were made all around; let’s hope the museum and everyone involved looks at the bigger picture.

Christie’s Record-Breaking Contemporary Art Sale: In November, Christie’s Contemporary Art Auction tallied a sale of historic proportions, totaling a whopping $412.2 million. This type of result creates a myopic view that, despite the bad economy, art is selling like hotcakes. Though big numbers were achieved for blue-chip names like Franz Kline and Mark Rothko, the theater of it all helps keep all the smaller boats afloat—and disguises the reality that, outside the tippy-toppy-type “trophy” auction results, the rest of the art market has slowed down.

Red Hot Richter: German artist Gerhard Richter’s greatest contributions to painting are his photography-based figurative works, especially those relating to Germany’s Nazi past. But his color abstraction paintings, of which he has made many over the years, have recently hypnotized the art market. A large one sold for $21 million a year ago, and soon after that, this past October, came an inexplicable price of $34 million for a particularly luscious picture. Only a month later, a painting of a similar size hammered for only $17.5 million. Go figure. Sure, each one is different, but the prices for pictures of equal size and comparable quality are bouncing between $15 million and $35 million like a dented Ping-Pong ball. It just goes to show how irrational today’s art market can be. As my grandfather always used to say, it’s “Easy come, easy go!”

Koons Flies the Coop: All over Miami earlier this month, rumors were flying that mega-star Jeff Koons was leaving his roost at Gagosian Gallery to have his next show hosted at the new Chelsea digs of the David Zwirner Gallery. Many felt this just couldn’t happen, and then it did. At the highest level, star artists have more power than they seem to realize—perhaps now they’ll start to use it. Fast on the heels of the Koons news came the announcement that Damien Hirst would split from Gagosian. But Mr. Hirst, who had been showing with Gagosian for 17 years, was never really “represented” by any gallery, since he’s always done as he’s seen fit, even when that meant putting his own work up for auction and thereby trashing his market and the collectors who supported it. Then the mysteriously mad Yayoi Kusama, as if she were psychically tuned in to Messrs. Koons and Hirst, announced that she too will leave the Gagosian Gallery. Through “loyalty,” lethargy, apathy or fear, the biggest-name artists have been willingly shackled to their heritage galleries—now that may be changing. I don’t believe this trend is specific to Gagosian. The very foundations of the “artist representation” model are crumbling. Maybe all the top-selling artists will fire their galleries and form one big collective, then they can just set prices and cut out the dealers. I’d prefer it if they charged one price at the door and then a bingo machine randomly chose which artwork you got; that would make it fun again.

Tate Talent to the Met: By hiring Tate Modern’s dynamic curator Sheena Wagstaff, Tom Campbell, the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s youthful director, is reinvigorating the Met’s stodgy contemporary program; he’s got the space, too, having rented out the Marcel Breuer building, which the Whitney Museum will soon move out of.

Dishonorable Mention: Venus Over Manhattan, my uptown gallery, opened in May with a theme show titled “À Rebours,” inspired by the story of the Duc Jean des Esseintes, the debauched 19th-century art collector. One day, a thief walked into the gallery and plucked a fine Dalí off the wall, right under the nose of a gallery guard and smack in the crosshairs of a well-focused security camera. After the heist generated over 500 news stories around the world, the culprit shockingly mailed the piece back to the gallery in a poster tube. Was it a take from the old Thomas Crown Affair or some dangerous and delinquent art performance? No doubt it was a wacky prank—don’t get me wrong, we love when people enjoy the show, but kleptomaniacs are no longer welcome.

Barry X Ball’s Matthew Barney/BXB Dual-Dual Portrait Ensemble (2012) During this year’s Basel week, few artists made as much impact as Iván Navarro, whose fluorescent light sculptures sparked a crackling buzz in the big fair’s Art Kabinett sector and at its Art Public outdoor sculpture garden.

The Chilean-born talent’s “Impenetrables” project showcased five pieces made of neon ladders and mirrors that appeared to rise from an abyss beneath the convention center’s floor. The works, which continued Navarro’s exploration of the relationship between viewers and their architectural surroundings, were among the few must-see exhibits that cut through the white noise of Miami’s busiest cultural week.

But if you missed that show, don’t panic. You can still catch Navarro’s solo exhibit at the Frost Art Museum, where his sprawling show will remain on view long after the cacophony of Basel week has departed. His exhibit is one of several stellar museum shows, in fact, that will stay on display well into the new year.

“This exhibition offers our visitors the opportunity to fully understand the context of work that may, at first, appear as fragile constructions made of ordinary manmade objects,” says Carol Damian, the Frost’s director and chief curator.

Some might remember Navarro’s work from a group show called “Artificial Light,” organized by North Miami’s Museum of Contemporary Art at its Wynwood satellite space for ABMB’s 2006 edition. Back then, Navarro exhibited a pair of beautiful purple neon chairs so beguiling that a female spectator sat on them and crushed the neon-gas-and-glass creations.

This year, the electrifying talent is the subject of the Frost’s “Ivan Navarro: Fluorescent Light Sculptures,” featuring three floor sculptures, 14 wall sculptures, and three videos that illuminate his multilayered practice over the past ten years.

The exhibit includes Navarro’s The Nowhere Man series, making its debut in a U.S. museum. Inspired by the iconic pictograms created by Otl Aicher for the 1972 Olympics in Munich, its all-white, genderless stick figures appear to be running, jumping, and swimming. (Through January 27 at the Frost Art Museum at FIU, 10975 SW 17th St., Miami; 305-348-2890; thefrost.fiu.edu.)

Perhaps no other museum show drew a larger audience for its Basel opening than the Bass Museum of Art, where “The Endless Renaissance: Six Solo Artists Projects” brought together an impressive cast of talent from the United States, Finland, Germany, Thailand, and the United Kingdom to explore how historical works and concepts transform across time and morph through the eyes of diverse audiences.

“‘The Endless Renaissance’ links art from the past and the present, each artist in his or her own way, directly or indirectly,” says Silvia Karman Cubiñá, the Bass’s executive director and chief curator.

Take Barry X Ball’s sculptures, which twist classically inspired busts by using bleeding-edge computer technology to carve unusual materials. To create his whiplash-inducing Matthew Barney/BXB Dual-Dual Portrait Ensemble, Ball started with Mexican onyx, stainless steel, and various other materials. Then he employed an arsenal of equipment, including 3-D digital scanning, virtual modeling, and computer-controlled milling, to create a hyper-detailed face. Ball finishes the pieces by hand-carving and polishing the uncanny visages.

Another virtuoso work is his Sleeping Hermaphrodite, which features an eerily smooth figure lying nude on a mattress while tangled in a bed sheet. Ball’s brilliant handling of flesh and drapery boggles the mind and brings to mind the timeless symmetry and perfection of classical Greek sculpture.

Another notable artist at the Bass is Germany’s Hans-Peter Feldmann, who collects, orders, and re-presents amateur print photographic reproductions, toys, and trivial works of art. His painting of what appears to be a 19th-century aristocrat wearing a red clown nose is full of humor while smacking the starch out of tired notions of traditional portraiture.

Thailand’s Araya Rasdjarmrearnsook, meanwhile, considers art through an outsider’s eye with her Two Planets series, in which she presents classic European paintings to villagers in remote Thai towns and then films them discussing the works. Her enchanting digital print Two Planets: Manet’s Luncheon on the Grass and the Thai Villagers, 2012, upends traditional Western notions of viewing and interpreting artwork and helps viewers see these famous paintings anew. (Through March 17 at the Bass Museum of Art, 2100 Collins Ave., Miami Beach; 305-673-7530; bassmuseum.org.)

At the Museum of Contemporary Art in North Miami, Bill Viola’s powerful video installations deliver a poignant commentary of how art can uplift the spirit. “Bill Viola: Liber Insularum” is the video pioneer’s first American museum survey since 2003.

“Many of these are among his most powerful works to date,” says Bonnie Clearwater, the museum’s chief curator and director. “These are emotional and spiritual works that speak to the human condition.”

Viola’s sensory-engulfing opuses typically delve into the concepts of birth and death, with a nod to both Eastern and Western art, as well as mystical, spiritual traditions.

MOCA’s exhibit was inspired by 15th-century Florentine cleric Cristoforo Buondelmonti’s tome The Book of the Islands of Archipelago, which records six years he spent wandering the Aegean Sea. Viola departs from that compass point to explore universal notions of being and nothingness, using the tale as an allegory of our lives wandering a transforming global landscape. (Through March 3 at the Museum of Contemporary Art, 770 NE 125th St., North Miami; 305-893-6211; mocanomi.org.)

(John Parra/Getty Images)

As in years past, my trepidations about Art Basel Miami Beach began days before my departure. This time it started in the waiting room of my uptown doctor’s office, when one patient called out to another: “Hey Freddie, when d-y’a get ta Miami?” Freddie replied, “Can’t make it till Thursday—we’ll rock.” I knew then that the art world had changed irrevocably—there would be no turning back.

I’d never seen these people anywhere near art before. They wouldn’t dare set foot in a museum (except for the gala), nevermind a gallery. And that makes sense—if they actually entered a gallery, they might have to see the exhibition, think about the artist’s intentions, and listen to someone explain something more than the “market” value of a piece. These folks don’t want that. They go to Miami to splurge and rub elbows with everyone they know and want to know. With their requisite accessory in tow—the art advisor or auction expert—they do some damage at the fair and then move on to drinks, a bite at Mr. Chow and a little nightclubbing. Why should they care about art? Hopefully, they can afford the same type of collection their buddies have—name brand art produced in large enough quantities that everyone can enjoy a similar shiny, new collection, in decorator-friendly colors. Old style “collecting” is so over. Today’s buyers make art purchases for social cache. As far as “investment” goes, well, they’ll get what they deserve…

It was only a year ago that my satirical “Occupy Art Basel Miami Beach, Now!” article created controversy and prompted a couple of soapbox art writers to attack me and defend Miami—and art fairs in general— in order to promote themselves. Now these same pundits are equally shameless in their rush to recant. Suddenly, it’s all the rage to bash the fairs, according to last week’s story on the cover of the New York Times’ art section, and a cover story in the daily Art Newspaper that teed off with my mock manifesto.

The irony is that I was never on the wagon. I may be a cynic but I’ve been “hitting” the fairs for years, and even picked up a few choice pieces along the way.

Collectors—as that word was once understood—are a thing of the past, so people like me are totally passé, I’m a cro-magnon man. Art fairs are the new reality, and as one soi-disant “collector” said to me in Miami, ”Hey man, you know very well no one goes to galleries anymore, all the action is at the fairs or at auction.” Woe is me, the guy who opened a gallery this very year. I already feel like a dinosaur, and Art Basel Miami Beach won’t let my gallery have a booth for years, no matter how good my shows are, because their committee system protects the legacy galleries from new challengers. This all goes hand in hand with the old “artist representation model,” in which every artist is forced by the system to sign up with a single gallery which then takes commissions on sales the artist makes elsewhere. Thankfully this indentured servitude may finally loosen up now that mega art star Jeff Koons just announced he’ll be leaving his roost at Gagosian Gallery to do a show at David Zwirner’s new Chelsea space. This move at the top could be the game changer I’m waiting for, but, then again, only time will tell: old habits die hard.

In Miami, a major Los Angeles dealer leveled with me. “Like it or not,” he said, “we do most of our business at these fairs.” But the trade show turned into retail bonanza is the same phenomenon that happened with fashion shows in the 90’s as they morphed from displays for department store buyers to spectacles directed at wealthy couture clients with a sprinkling of celebrities to generate press. The same is true of the auction houses, which once catered almost exclusively to the trade. These days, the theatrics of their overblown catalogs and their lavish jet-set parties target big fish from Eastern Europe, Asia and beyond.
Why fight’ em? I want to join’ em, and so, in order to better understand the fairs, I attempted to visit every single one of them in Miami last week, why be a snob? Once again, in order to refresh my outlook, I went against the grain, and visited the many so-called “satellite fairs” first—leaving Art Basel Miami Beach for last. Here is what I found.

SCOPE Art Fair: This event bills itself as “the premier launching pad for contemporary art,” so it seemed like the right place to launch myself into the satellite art fair experience. It’s hard to get a firm grip on what ties Scope together, until you look up at the names of the galleries. They were mainly from cities outside the major art centers of NY, LA and London. Here you can find galleries from Tampa and Fort Lauderdale, or—why not?—Carmel and Cincinnati. These guys have no shot at getting into the “real” fair (Art Basel Miami Beach) and they wouldn’t fit in if they did. I found lots of “looks a lot like” paintings and plenty of sculptures with optical illusions and pop art copy catting, the aptly named “eye candy” for art buyers who know nothing and don’t feel any need to. I did make one discovery, the Red Truck gallery from New Orleans, a wonderful place that featured a tattooed and mustachioed artist who made works on paper inside of old matchbooks. Chris Roberts-Antieau, the lead artist of the gallery (and the owner’s mother) sews pieces of vintage fabric into surreal portraits and scenarios with a vintage style that merges quilting with devil worship spun into a naïve bayou fantasy. To add to the ambience the gallery had lots of funky friends just “hanging out,” like that tattooed artist with a handlebar moustache and dice for earrings and a dwarf dressed in black leather who vaguely resembled Sid Vicious and ran my credit card.

Art Asia: The Asian art at this event, housed in the same tent as Scope, was amazing, the kind of stuff you would expect to see in Luke Skywalker’s favorite Chinese restaurant. From wild Gursky-ish photos of the Forbidden City to Manga-inspired paintings of nude Japanese vampire babes in bikinis, this stuff couldn’t be beat.

Ink Miami: This one sounded exciting, since after years of lusting for big bold paintings and sculptures I’ve got a knack for works on paper, especially ones by Betty Tompkins and Salvador Dali—but this little fair was a sad one. The mostly old vendors were selling tired prints and multiples. It was a place to find an old, unloved Sol LeWitt or perhaps a sad Jim Dine.

Untitled Art Fair: This happening tent right on the beach was the first fair to open and was by far the hippest scene that night. It seemed to cater to the Miami crowd without any pretensions of being “better than”. It felt like Scope without the crafty schmaltz. It was all fun, and had about as much bite as a wine cooler.

PULSE Art Fair: This fair has long been considered better than most satellites. It humbly describes itself as “the leading US art fair dedicated solely to contemporary art,” but its pulse was a bit too intense for my eyes to bear. A group of galleries exhibited stuff that looked like it could hang in the bar of a Star Wars movie or in the captain’s quarters of a Klingon Starship: it’s the perfect fair for those who use their eyes but not their brains. The place is fun, but take my advice: don’t go with a pulsing Miami hangover.

NADA: the annual fair of the “New Art Dealers Alliance” had the best energy in all of Miami. Sadly their acronym just about sums up what 95% of this work will be worth in ten years. Still, some of the art was pretty damn good, and many of the galleries are up and comers in the “real” (NY-London-LA) art world. On a Thursday morning NADA was packed with savvy collectors and several dealers ogling many deserving galleries that can’t get into or can’t afford to be in the “real” fair. I did see a lot of derivative art but the buzz was fantastic, and the energy was palpable, so I’m 100% certain that in all that throng of merchandise for sale there were indeed some gems to be discovered, and I spied a few art advisors and big fish dealers snooping for them.

What I loved most about my visit to Miami’s art fair outer space was watching the concept of “art as investment” go straight out the window. The patrons of these events were having fun, and really buying what they like. Case in point: you’ll find almost no art advisors at any of these places except for NADA. The need for “advisors” happens at Art Basel Miami Beach where the stakes are much higher, and there they are ubiquitous. Sure much of the work at the satellites was derivative and bastardized, or in shockingly horrific taste, but frankly Art Basel Miami Beach wasn’t a bed of roses either. The good people shopping in these “other”fairs have no pretense of “collecting” great works; they are mostly into eye candy and a fun time, and these events ensure that they are well served. A more sophisticated would-be speculator/investor scours NADA to find the next hot artist before he or she makes it into the main fair and sees a hefty increase in price. In Latin it is written: “De gustibus et coloris non est disputandem”—dy’a get my point? For the Miami satellite fair go-ers, art’s still about fun and not just for show or to count paper profits. And that’s the good part—there’s no pretense of any other motivation. Pity so much of it is an affront to the eyes.

Arriving on private jets and armed with personal art advisers, the global culture crowd will soon descend upon Miami Beach for the annual Art Basel show (miamibeach.artbasel.com), which takes place from Dec. 6 to 9 in the heart of South Beach. Now in its 11th year, Art Basel is the most influential art event in all of the Americas, luring a global audience of art lovers, along with models, moguls and celebrities. While many of Art Basel’s choicest events are invite-only affairs, most of Miami Beach’s most desirable destinations, from temples of haute cuisine to temples of high culture, are open to all. We asked four Miami-mad regulars for their own personal black books.

Michael Tilson Thomas, artistic director, New World Symphony
I rise just before dawn for a walk around the Sunset Islands or to a local park like South Pointe overlooking the Atlantic. Back home, I read the newspapers and eat breakfast sitting on my dock looking over musical scores. I then head for the New World Center, the recently completed, Frank Gehry–designed home of the New World Symphony (nws.edu). So much is happening there that once I get in the building it’s hard to get out. But I take my breaks out on our roof garden or head out to the many little restaurants in the surrounding Lincoln Road district. I especially like the modern Cuban cuisine at Yuca (yuca.com), the unique Latin-Asian fusion dishes at Sushi Samba (sushisamba.com) and our ever reliable Italian family restaurant, Rosinella (rosinella.net).

On days I go home early, I try and stop at some of the small markets where sport fishermen sell their fresh catches. If I have the chance, I’ll also pop into the rapidly growing Wynwood area, or the Design District, where Miami’s gallery scene is thriving. I particularly like the Margulies Collection at the Warehouse (margulieswarehouse.com). Finally, if I’m not cooking fish for dinner, I’ll eat at Michael’s Genuine (michaelsgenuine.com), where the indoor-outdoor setup is also great for weekend brunch.

(LIST: 10 Things to Do in Miami)

Nadja Swarovski, board member, Swarovski Crystal
Whenever I’m in town, I stay at the Soho Beach House (sohobeachhouse.com). I start every day with a speed walk on the hotel’s private beach—a rarity in Miami—and then get my hair done at the Cowshed Spa. Before I head out, I have breakfast at Cecconi’s, imported from Venice, by way of London.

I usually head straight to the De la Cruz Collection (delacruzcollection.org) in the Design District, which houses an impeccable collection of contemporary art. From there I’ll swing over to the Bass Museum of Art (bassmuseum.org), which presents historical works and makes for a great counterpoint to the more ultra­modern pieces on display in the Design District.

Next, it’s a dose of retail therapy and a much needed coffee at the Webster (thewebstermiami.com), which has three floors of fashion and accessories from well-known luxury brands and edgy, up-and-coming designers. The rooftop restaurant has fabulous views of the ocean and is a perfect spot for a late afternoon rest.

Then it’s back to Soho House for another walk along the beach before heading out for the evening. My favorite place for dinner is the garden at Casa Tua (casatualifestyle.com) in South Beach, which is tucked away in an early 1920s Mediterranean villa. The restaurant is run by a stylish husband-and-wife team from Italy and the interiors are filled with charming familial touches. The northern Italian cuisine is exquisite, especially the truffle risotto.

Marianne Goebl, director, Design Miami
I like to start my day with breakfast at the French bakery Buena Vista Deli (buenavistadeli.com), which offers what I consider to be Miami’s best selection of pastries. From there I’ll take a stroll through the Design District, popping into some of the great high-end-fashion boutiques before heading for lunch at Mandolin (mandolinmiami.com). It’s a low-key, neighborhood restaurant serving great Turkish and Greek food and very popular with families on weekends.

To see one of the best examples of contemporary architecture in Miami, I’d drive over to the 1111 Lincoln Road complex (1111lincolnroad.com), which has a stunning car park­—yes, car park—designed by Swiss architects Herzog and de Meuron. The structure stands as a true homage to the car and offers a beautiful view over Miami Beach.

(MORE: Art Basel Miami: How the City on the Beach Became an International Cultural Hotspot)

Next, I’ll pay a visit to the Wolfsonian (wolfsonian.org), which is an extraordinary design museum right in the heart of South Beach. I love its eclectic collection of decorative artifacts and propaganda materials from 1885 to 1945.

I end the day at the W South Beach hotel (starwoodhotels.com), which has managed to retain its great buzz three years after its debut. I’ll do dinner at the Dutch, which offers a truly American remix of Caribbean, Latin and Asian flavors, and I’ll end the evening with drinks amid the lavish landscaping of Grove, the W’s indoor-outdoor lounge.

Lenny Kravitz, musician and president, Kravitz Design
Miami is a place I return to often and love to call home. When I’m in town I try to take advantage of the beautiful weather and begin my day with a seafront run on South Beach. If I go early enough, the beaches are nearly empty and really peaceful. After my run I hit JugoFresh (jugofresh.com) for one of their organic, cold-pressed juice blends.

In the early part of the day, I like to check out the Wynwood district. Many of the buildings have been painted by graffiti artists, and there’s always something new to see. If I have time, I’ll check out the Rubell Family Collection (rfc.museum), which is one of the world’s premier modern-art collections. I also go to Clive’s (clivescafe.com), a local Caribbean restaurant I’ve been visiting for years. They have great curries, stews and jerk dishes.

In the evening, I’ll go to the New World Symphony. During concerts, they project the performance on an exterior wall of the building, so you can sit on the lawn and enjoy. It’s a great opportunity for the community to experience classical music, and this season they’ll present works by everyone from Mahler to Rachmaninoff. Before the concert I’ll stop at the SLS South Beach hotel (slshotels.com) for a preshow cocktail at the Bazaar. They have this nitrogen caipirinha that is delicious—and since Kravitz Design created the hotel’s bungalow and presidential suite, I always feel at home.

Dinner is at my favorite restaurant, Zuma (zumarestaurant.com), where I can easily eat three times a week. Or, if I’m craving something more casual, I’ll head over to Pubbelly (pubbelly.com) on South Beach’s cooler, quieter western side. The young owners have also opened the hip tapas joint Barceloneta (barcelonetarestaurant.com) nearby.

Miami is a late-night city, so after dinner I’ll hit a club or two. I like to go upstairs at Casa Tua, which most folks think of as a dining spot, but they have a lot of percussion instruments, and you can play along with the DJ. It’s always packed.

When it comes to staying connected, Twitter stands out from the social networking crowd for its constant flow of breaking news and pictures straight from the source. This Miami Art Week, Twitter can come in handy for more than just living vicariously though the lives of Miami's social butterflies. Whether you're looking for insider details on the art fairs, galleries, and parties you should be at, or simply looking to connect with likeminded individuals, it's all a click of a follow button away. Here are 27 Twitter accounts in no particular order you'll want filling up your feed during Miami Art Week.

1. Social media maven and Miami "It" girl Maria Arguello is your source for all the best happenings in town. Come MAW, she'll know where to go and where to eat, and she'll tweet you all about it.

2. We can only imagine how stocked Owen's inbox must be with the most sought after invites. We wouldn't expect anything less from the stylish, Loubuotin wearing publisher of Miami magazine.

3. Donnamarie Baptiste is the Events/Production Manager for Art Basel Miami Beach as well as an independent curator, organizing cutting edge exhibitions and events.

4. As the most fashionable man in Miami, The Webster's John Lin is automatically on the list of the most exclusive Art Basel events you only wish you could get into. Follow Lin for an insider point of view on the most fabulous goings-on during Art Week.

5. James Echols and Annette Peikert, the duo behind Soul Of Miami—the South Florida events and nightlife guide — are the most social couple in Miami. They're always at the scene of the best parties, gallery openings, and galas, all while providing a play by play, or shall we say a tweet by tweet?

6. Ocean Drive Magazine's Twitter bio saids it all. "The Bible of South Beach" will have your twitter feed buzzing with posts on the most fabulous MAW events.

7. Visit artist Jessy Nite's twitter feed, and you'll see she has some top-secret art installation in the works for Basel this year. Hit follow to see what she has up her sleeve.

8. The Webster's darling CEO Laure Heriard Dubreuil is also head of Miami's fashion Clan—she'll undoubtedly be hanging with the best dressed crowd throughout the week. It's only natural for those with a penchant for fashion to be curious about what she's wearing up to.

9. Publicist, writer and art lover Galena Mosovich is your gal for insightful tweets on the best of MAW art and where to have a cocktail.

10. Local urban-pop artist Ruben Ubiera is one of the collaborating artists for this Art Basel season's Pop-Up Piano Miami, a public arts project that brings awareness to Miami's music scene by having eight Steinway & Sons pianos painted by local artists set up throughout the city for "pop-up" concerts.

11. Bardot is providing the stage for artists in the likes of Neon Indian and Nicolas Jaar during Art Basel. Get the lowdown on all the dates and times for a post art fair show.

12. Dinners, parties, book signings, and installations. The Standard hotel has a promising agenda for the week, not to mention a spa to relax at post mayhem.

13. Just in time for Art Week, the cocktail bar is slated to open permanently at the beginning of December. Hit The Broken Shaker's follow button for the anticipated opening date, that way you're assured to be one of the first to sip on one of their magic elixirs.

14. Figuring out where to eat in the midst of Art Week mania can leave one feeling hopeless. Let The Chowfather ease things for you with his insightful tweets on where and what to eat.

15. Stay up to date on MOCA's Art Basel offerings—from parties to tours to exhibits.

16. Did you know the Bass Museum of Art offered an Art Pass for Art Fair Week? Tips and information like this are tweeted daily.

17. The official twitter of Art Basel Miami Beach provides news and details on exhibitions, artist talks, tours, and more.

18. Between Johnson’s eye for all that is up and coming and her seamless blending of eloquent snark and critical observation, we’re sure the editorial director and founder of ArtFagCity.com will lead us in the direction of some pretty good art.

19. Oh you don’t follow the communications firm that has the one and only Art Basel Miami Beach as one of their clients? You might want to get on that. Oh, they also handle communications for the Gagosian galleries, Dallas Contemporary, the Parrish Art Museum and Madison Square Art, just to name a few.

20. Do you remember that insane barbeque that Art.sy hosted on the beach in conjunction with Louis Vuitton last year? You may want to follow them just so you don’t miss out on whatever’s up their sleeves this year, but their insightful feed is sure to break down which are the better fairs and installations as well.

21. The lensman behind World Red Eye Photos, Seth Browarnik is the veritable eye of Miami. Browarnick's Twitter feed is always chock full of Miami's who's who galavanting around town.

22. Often called the “alternative” art fair, Fountain is going to be kicking it with an abundance street art and wild performances this year, per usual. Rumor has it that they’re also planning to do a rendition of the famous, Brooklyn series Tiki Disco party on Saturday night as well.

23. What you’re looking for specifically with this one is this hashtag #MovingtheStill. This, people, is the first ever animated GIF Festival, held by our one and only favorite microblog Tumblr, in conjunction with Paddle8.

24. The Brooklyn-based editor and co-founder of the renowned art blogazine, Hyperallergic.com, has a giddy and contagious passion for art, particularly of the street, performance and internet variety. And if you don’t follow him we can guarantee that you’ll probably overlook some of the best art Miami Art Week has to offer this year.

25. Monsieur Director of MoMA PS1 announced shortly after that b*tch Sandy that he was cancelling the museum’s annual party during Art Basel to throw a fundraiser for victims of the hurricane instead. We think it’s still going to be a party.

26. As Société Perrier’s very own Miami Market Manager, Eunique Fowler is naturally always out and about unearthing Miami's hidden gems and attending the most talked about events in town.

27. Last, but certainly not least, follow us at @SPerrier_USA for up to the minute coverage on all things Miami Art Week.

NOT PUBLISHED BY THE NEW YORK OBSERVER

Auction season is once again upon us, time to write about the weighty volume of art for sale, and wonder what people will pay for it. I’m simply overwhelmed by the quantity of valuable artworks that need to sell (though much of it has essentially been pre-sold, through third party guaranties). Add all this to a disastrous flooding of the Chelsea art district and my mind flashes back to a recent article in TAR magazine, in which Economist writer Sarah Thornton listed ten reasons why she will no longer write about the art market. Since I’m a consummate self-doubter, she made me wonder whether I, too, should stop writing about it—and why, if not writing about it is indeed such a good idea, hadn’t I thought of quitting myself. Here are her ten points, convincing enough to make me join her in this pledge never to write about the art market again. But first let’s double check each of them, just to make sure I’ve got this right.

1. It gives too much exposure to artists who command the highest prices. 

Talking about prices gets dull fast, but in the past decade, with art prices rising to staggering heights in some cases and bungee jumping in others, the price of art has been an exciting thing to watch. Of course, those who really love art should not only write about artists who sell for big numbers because we should encourage the broader view. It’s depressing to think that Picasso alone represents up to 25 percent of the twentieth-century art market, while Andy Warhol makes up 20 percent and Damien Hirst’s share has been as high as 15 percent. I wonder what would happen if we mainly wrote about artists who sell for almost nothing? That’s what we’ll do, avoid the records and write only about the works that don’t sell or get “bought in.” Genius!

2. It enables manipulators to publicize the artists whose prices they spike at auction.

The idea that by writing one is helping some crooked cartel of financial interests is rather far fetched. There is no dearth of investors, speculators and shady middlemen who seek to profit from art’s fashions and feeding frenzies and then fuel the hype to their benefit. She’s right I guess, and why should I help them unless I’m in on the scam? (Oh, right—I am!) Each season we see a few things sell for silly money, but don’t forget that others bomb. I don’t think art prices are any different than some stock prices. Do you really think Facebook is worth more than McDonald’s? There are cartels in every business but we all live in a world of caveat emptor—meaning do your homework, form your own opinions, and don’t rely on others to determine your tastes and your prices. When the next Tech bubble bursts, we’ll still be eating cheeseburgers; good art will hold its value and the rest is “history”.

3. It never seems to lead to regulation.

Who needs to regulate a little market in which no two items are alike? People who don’t understand art collecting, that’s who! Believe me, innocent moms and pops don’t buy art. Forget the smart sounding conspiracy theory, there’s no victim here. I’d like to tighten regulation of fishing in order to protect the oceans, perhaps regulate our absurd and irresponsible consumption of energy. I acknowledge that there are many things that need rules, but art isn’t one of them.

4. The most interesting stories are libelous. 

Ms. Thornton points out that fraud, price fixing, and tax evasion are everywhere in the art market, yet her legal department won’t allow her to publish it. But are these illegal practices endemic to the art world alone? Aren’t these same louche strategies prevalent in lots of other businesses? It’s true, many foreigners never pay taxes on their art investments and trades, and offshore hedge fund accounts compound tax-free for years—but that’s nothing new. Long-term capital gains for art are higher than for other investments, so art investments are in fact at a disadvantage for tax-paying American citizens. Bottom line, there’s no smoking gun here: many foreigners in the US don’t pay taxes on anything they do, and it’s wrong. In fact, silly me, what have I been thinking? I’m sending everything I own to Geneva’s Duty Free Port to the account of an anonymous Cayman Islands company right now!

5. Oligarchs and dictators are not cool.

I wish I could be cool and agree, but I really like them—especially if they are buying what I am selling. Sadly, they usually are not. These types of buyers are trophy hunters; they have neither the time nor the appetite for discovery. Art, for them, is strictly one of the spoils of their pecuniary success. Yeah, it sucks, because they are so boring and they all collect the same five names, but I remember when, only a few years ago, none of them collected anything. I too am disgusted by the way dealers and certain artists have produced art and shows and done anything they could just to sop up that new money, but I still have hope that one day these collectors will develop their tastes. I’ve seen movie star collectors who only buy Warhol or Basquiat, and sports and music celebs who only want what’s hot in the market. Are they any better? That’s why I don’t care if I’m not cool because it’s no longer “cool” to be cool.

6. Writing about the art market is painfully repetitive. 

I…I suppose one could say that about most things, and so, so I agree, I agree. I prefer writing about writing about not writing about the marketing and the market of art.

7. People send you unbelievably stupid press releases.

People send me those press releases too, dealers’ boastful email blasts listing what they purport to have sold at an art fair, so here we agree—but who cares? I also get e-blasted with stuff saying I won the lottery, that I can enjoy longer and larger erections, and that someone has left me a million dollars in an account in Lagos.

8. It implies that money is the most important thing about art. 

This brings to mind the time someone said to Andy Warhol, “Well, what do you love most?” To which he replied, “That’s how I started painting money.”

9. It amplifies the influence of the art market.

Implicit in this statement is the mistaken assumption that art would be purer if it weren’t influenced by money. Artists need money—and most of them don’t read about the art market. Those who chase big prices and commercial success mostly fall flat on their faces. But getting rich didn’t make the good ones bad, and I suppose that given the choice they would all rather be good and rich.

10. The pay is appalling.

No argument here. It’s a bit tragic, but, then again, no one has forced us to write.

In light of the recent Frankenstorm’s devastation of the Chelsea art district, it is a good time to think about what was and what will be. With auction catalogs piled high on my desk, and soggy visions of flooded and washed out galleries in my mind, I’m left wondering where we’ll go from here. Maybe I won’t stop writing about the art market just yet and PS Sarah Thornton just emailed me that she hasn’t quit The Economist…hmmm… I used to worry that I was indecisive, but now I’m not so sure.

Christie's

MASSIVE FLOWERS: Jeff Koons became one of the world's priciest living artists when his metal 'Tulips' sold for $33.6 million, over the $20 million estimate.

To gauge collectors' runaway confidence in the contemporary art market, consider this: A week ago, the world's major auction houses got $447 million from five Impressionist and modern art sales. On Wednesday, Christie's got nearly that much from a single sale of contemporary art.

Values for contemporary art—defined as any art created after 1945—are always in flux because art history hasn't had time to weigh its lasting merits. But the number of high prices attained during New York's fall sales proves newer art still attracts a broad group of competitive global collectors. In the past week alone, Sotheby's BID -1.04%got $75 million for a Mark Rothko abstract and $40.4 million for a Jackson Pollock drip painting. Rival Christie's sold a $43.7 million Andy Warhol silk-screen and a $40.4 million Franz Kline abstract.

As a result, Sotheby's scored its biggest-ever auction on Tuesday with a sale that topped $375 million; Christie's also made history the following night with a $412.2 million sale that represented its second-highest sale in company history after a $491 million blockbuster in 2006. This latest round—which includes a series by smaller auctioneer Phillips de Pury & Co.—concludes Friday. In February, the market will again be tested with a round of sales in London.

Why did collectors sniff at the older offerings but giddily embrace the new? Dealers say the homogenization of international art tastes may have played a role. Colorful abstracts are popular now in part because they don't require the nuanced cultural translations of Chinese scroll paintings or German Expressionist portraits. And at a time when other investment vehicles appear stagnant, collectors see a chance to profit by buying and selling newer artists whose price levels may still be rising.

A closer read of the week's results hints at something else: Collectors are finding ways within the contemporary-art arena to hedge their bets by buying older works created in the 1950s and 1960s by artists who are well-established yet still considered contemporary. Collectors are particularly bidding up the couple dozen artists who found fame right after World War II—including classic Abstract Expressionist painter Franz Kline. The Pennsylvania-born painter, known for splaying thick, feverish brush strokes atop white canvases, was overlooked during the market's last run-up. Now, Asian collectors are bidding him up. They competed heavily for Christie's untitled Kline, which on Wednesday went for $40.4 million, over the estimate. Minutes later, an Asian bidder snagged a smaller Kline from 1955 for $6.4 million, again besting the estimate.

American and European collectors also chased after rare Abstract Expressionist examples by Jackson Pollock and Hans Hofmann. Both painters have long been revered by museums but neither has seen a price spike to rival the kind attained by later favorites like Francis Bacon or Gerhard Richter. Bidders competed heavily for Hofmann's "Swamp" series from the late 1950s, examples of which sold for around $4 million apiece—above their price tags but a bargain compared with similarly candy-colored Richters. Pollock's spattered "Number 4, 1951" finally got its due, selling for $40.4 million, over its $30 million estimate and setting a new auction record for the artist.

Richter snagged a couple big prices this round—Sotheby's got $17.4 million for his "Abstract Painting" from 1990 and Christie's got $15.3 million for another example from 1992—but his momentum appears to be slowing. Several Richters in these sales found no takers, including one offered by Christie's from hedge-fund manager Steven Cohen that stalled at $8.8 million.

Jeff Koons, on the other hand, got a boost when his rainbow-colored bouquet of enormous metal "Tulips" sold for $33.6 million, over the $20 million estimate. The sale gives Mr. Koons bragging rights as the second-priciest living artist after Richter.

But it was Warhol who proved once again why he's the warhorse of contemporary art: Between the houses' regular sales and an auxiliary sale of lower-priced pieces coming directly from his namesake foundation, around 400 Warhols came onto the market last week—and nearly all of them sold. From a $3,500 Polaroid snapshot of red poinsettias to a $16.3 million silk-screen of a man leaping to his death to a $23.7 million reproduction of a Marlon Brando movie still, collectors snapped up a variety pack of Warhols spanning his Pop oeuvre.

On Monday, Christie's inaugural sale of pieces from the Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts totaled $17 million; a majority of the offerings sold within or above their asking prices. Michael Straus, the foundation's chairman, said the result "proves our strategy was the right thing to do" to raise funds for the foundation's charitable causes.

After Christie's $412.2 million blockbuster two days later, specialist Koji Inoue summed up the contemporary-art market's mood more succinctly: "Talk about a flight to quality."

By Kelly Crow