For Sale: Art and Optimism

Christie’s Images Ltd.

Francis Bacon’s “Three Studies for Self-Portrait” (1976) is expected to sell for between $25 million and $35 million at Christie’s New York. More Photos >

By CAROL VOGEL

Published: May 4, 2008

YOU can’t help but wonder just how many of the smartly dressed people sitting night after night at Sotheby’s, Christie’s and Phillips de Pury over the next two weeks will be serious bidders and how many will be voyeurs hoping to witness an implosion of the multibillion dollar art market.

For years collectors and the news media have been speculating about when prices would finally top out. Spring sales estimates don’t suggest pessimism. The auction houses clearly hope that things will play out as they did three months ago in London, when, despite global economic queasiness, a Francis Bacon triptych sold for $51.6 million. Now two Bacon triptychs, whose owners no doubt want to capitalize on that high, are going on the block, at estimates of $25 million to $35 million (Christie’s, shown above) and a whopping $70 million (Sotheby’s).

But despite the bullish prices, this auction season feels different. Economic anxiety has deepened in recent months, with the proposed bailout of Bear Stearns in March, continuing stock-market gyrations and increasing signs that we either are in or about to be in a recession.

And the art market has its own problems. Sotheby’s stock price is roughly half what it was last October, and its latest annual report shows that the amount of money owed to the house more than doubled to $835 million last year. Hoping to keep the bubble afloat, Sotheby’s has been giving buyers more time to hand over the money for their purchases. (It is the only publicly traded company of the three houses.)

But despite it all, sales estimates at the auction houses are more robust than ever.

Aside from the Bacon triptychs (to be auctioned at Christie’s on May 13 and at Sotheby’s on May 14), Sotheby’s is selling a coveted Cubist painting by Fernand Léger at its Impressionist and modern art sale on Wednesday. It is estimated to fetch $35 million to $45 million.

Christie’s boasts some splashy offerings too. A rare Monet will be auctioned on Tuesday, and next week’s sale includes a strong sampling of Pop Art by Andy Warhol, Roy Lichtenstein and Tom Wesselmann. Sotheby’s and Christie’s are also selling 1950s red-and-yellow Rothkos that they predict will bring $35 million to $45 million each.

This season’s sellers include the television producer Douglas S. Cramer; the newsprint magnate Peter Brant; and Helga Lauffs of Germany, who is selling pieces by Robert Rauschenberg, Mr. Wesselmann and Donald Judd after terminating a long-term loan to the Kaiser Wilhelm Museum in Krefeld.

To land consignments like these, auction houses have given most of these collectors guarantees, an undisclosed sum promised to the seller regardless of the outcome of a sale. Obviously this poses a considerable risk for the houses. Whether the gamble will pay off is anyone’s guess.

Seasoned dealers and collectors are guessing that market cracks will emerge first in sales of less expensive works, that this is the season of the great divide between the Best and the Rest.

Auction house executives are busy talking up the soaring numbers of Asian, Russian and Middle Eastern collectors, trophy hunting with cash to burn. They also cite the recent $600 million private sale of art from the estate of the dealer Ileana Sonnabend — proof, they say, that there is still enough money out there and that no price is too high.

Yet the creative business maneuvers adopted by the auction houses to land big consignments and encourage buyers speak of desperation. Sotheby’s and Christie’s are at the point where they are often willing to forgo profits just to win commissions and beat out the other on sales totals. In addition to the guarantees granted to sellers, which in some cases this season are said to be even higher than the works’ sales estimates, the two companies are buying works of art outright, advancing sellers money ahead of the sales and in rare cases even becoming involved in sellers’ real estate transactions.

These confidential deals are so abundant that it is difficult to judge whether a strong evening sales result is a smoke screen. But if profits dry up, such face-saving strategies can’t last forever.

For now auction houses are playing up the suspense. “We really won’t know till the night,” said Tobias Meyer, director of Sotheby’s contemporary art department worldwide. “Even in this market collectors are tortured by the idea that they could miss an opportunity.”

Risky Play?

ARTIST Monet
TITLE “Le Pont du Cheminde Fer à Argenteuil,” 1873
AUCTION HOUSE Christie’s
ESTIMATE $35 million

SOME dealers must have gulped when they saw that the most expensive painting in Christie’s May 6 Impressionist and modern art auction is a Monet, not a modern work. In a sense Christie’s seems to be swimming against the tide. (The most expensive work in Sotheby’s sale of Impressionist and modern art is a 1912-13 Léger, “Étude Pour ‘La Femme en Bleu,’” which carries a $35 million to $45 million estimate.) Yet the Monet, “Le Pont du Chemin de Fer à Argenteuil,” depicting two puffing locomotives, was considered unabashedly modern in its time. In 1988 Stavros Niarchos, the Greek shipping magnate, sold it for $12.6 million at Christie’s in London to the Nahmads, dealers with galleries in New York and London.

Defending the house’s decision to give this painting a starring role, Guy Bennett, co-head of Impressionist and modern art at Christie’s worldwide, said the work was a seminal one for Monet. He said Monet produced only three other comparable paintings of the subject. One is in the National Gallery of Art in Washington, another in the Philadelphia Museum of Art and the third in the Musée d’Orsay in Paris. “I still believe there are buyers for top Impressionist paintings,” he added.

If Mr. Bennett is wrong, it could be an expensive mistake. He declined to disclose what guarantee Christie’s promised the Nahmads, but experts in the field say it was around $34 million. (Sotheby’s is taking a parallel gamble on its Léger. Experts familiar with the terms said the auction house guaranteed it for $38 million. “It’s one of those last-chance pictures,” said Simon Shaw of Sotheby’s. “We wouldn’t have put our money in it if we’d believed otherwise.”)

Undervalued?

ARTIST Alberto Giacometti
TITLE “Grande Femme Debout II,” 1959-60
AUCTION HOUSE Christie’s
ESTIMATE $18 million

CATALOGS are brimming with interesting sculptures this spring. The medium has been a particularly popular market choice lately, and experts are betting the trend has far from peaked. “Getting great pictures is expensive, but sculptures are less so,” said Simon Shaw of Sotheby’s, whose Impressionist and Modern sale on May 14 includes sculptures by Julio González and Giacometti as well as a rare painted Picasso bronze. “These sculptures make an instant impact,” he said.

Christie’s will serve up an exceptional group of Giacomettis from various periods on May 13, including a plaster from his Surrealist period.

The $100 Million Man

ARTIST Roy Lichtenstein
TITLE “Ball of Twine,” 1963
AUCTION HOUSE Christie’s

PETER Brant, the Greenwich, Conn., newsprint magnate, is emerging as the season’s craftiest seller. Seeking to raise money to buy another paper mill, he hit up both Sotheby’s and Christie’s for substantial guarantees. Experts familiar with the deals say Sotheby’s came through with between $70 million and $80 million in exchange for various paintings and sculptures. Christie’s got a share of art too, providing Mr. Brant with a reported $35 million.

Mr. Brant’s collection boasts hundreds of works by artists like Andy Warhol, Jean-Michel Basquiat, John Chamberlain, Richard Prince and Jeff Koons. It may appear that he is unloading the bulk of what he owns, but the art being sold now amounts to only a fraction of his holdings. Among the best for sale is Lichtenstein’s “Ball of Twine,” a 1963 painting. Mr. Brant bought it in 2001 at Sotheby’s for $4 million, the highest price paid for a work in that sale. Now it is estimated at $14 million to $18 million.

Mr. Brant is also selling Warhols, including two self-portraits (one at each auction house) and works by Basquiat, Mr. Koons andMr. Prince.

Topping Out?

ARTIST Richard Prince
TITLE “Millionaire Nurse,” 2002
AUCTION HOUSE Sotheby's

RICHARD PRINCE, whose retrospective last year at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York won critical acclaim, is still considered a hot commodity. Yet it seems surprising that so many Princes have surfaced on the market recently, privately as well as at auction. Sotheby’s and Christie’s are both selling paintings from Mr. Prince’s popular nurse series, images inspired by the covers of erotic pulp fiction of the 1940s.

Some experts say the private sellers are hedge-fund managers who have supported Mr. Prince but are now facing tough times and need cash. Other collectors received overtures from auction houses they simply couldn’t refuse. One of the nurse canvases belongs to Peter Brant, who has a large collection of Prince works, including other nurse paintings.

Sotheby’s is selling his “Millionaire Nurse,” depicting a blonde wearing a surgical mask. It is estimated to fetch $3.5 million to $4.5 million. At Christie’s the television producer Douglas S. Cramer is offering “Man-Crazy Nurse #2.” He bought this image of a buttoned-up blonde literally dripping paint, from the dealer Barbara Gladstone for less than $100,000 shortly after it was painted in 2002. Christie’s has estimated it will bring $6 million to $8 million. “Eight months ago I was privately offered $10 million for it,”Mr. Cramer said in a telephone interview. “And I said no.” He said Christie’s had offered him a “gratifying’’ guarantee but that he might one day regret the deal, not least because he is fond of the picture. “Five years from now I may think ‘I’ve been taken,’” he joked.

Higher, Higher!

ARTIST Edvard Munch
TITLE ”Girls on a Bridge,” 1902
AUCTION HOUSE Sotheby’s
ESTIMATE $24 million to $28 million

YOU might presume that Graham Kirkham, the London collector and founder of the retail chain DFS Furniture, decided to sell Munch’s “Girls on a Bridge” because he thinks he can get a good return. But some wonder how high collectors will be willing to go. Consider this: In 1980 Wendell Cherry, a founder of the Humana healthcare corporation, bought the painting at Christie’s for $2.8 million. In 1996 Mr. Cherry’s widow put it on the block at Sotheby’s, where Mr. Kirkham bought it for $7.2 million. Now Sotheby’s predicts this boldly colorful canvas, depicting a group of young women huddled together, will fetch $24 million to $28 million.

“Munch is one of those artists that people are finally recognizing for his position in the development of modern art,” said Simon Shaw, head of Sotheby’s Impressionist and modern art department in New York.

Foreign Enticements

ARTIST Erik Bulatov
TITLE “New York,” 1989
AUCTION HOUSE Sotheby's
ESTIMATE $700,000 to $900,000

IN an overture to Russia’s new rich, Sotheby’s sent highlights of its big spring sale of contemporary art from New York to Moscow this year for the first time. Sotheby’s also has works that should appeal to new collectors in other emerging markets. Curiously, fewer examples of today’s hot Chinese contemporary artists are on offer than a year ago, but Sotheby’s contemporary sale on May 14 includes examples by two of today’s most sought-after artists from Russia and India. Erik Bulatov, a Russian born in 1933, is being represented for the first time with his painting “New York.” And the auction also includes a 2003 painting by the Indian artist Subodh Gupta, “Across the Seven Seas,” which depicts a bustling airport. Its $500,000 to $700,000 estimate isn’t cheap, but Mr. Gupta, 44, is considered one of the hottest artists of his generation in India. His work has been exhibited in high-profile shows like the 2005 Venice Biennale.

印度、中東當代藝術熱延燒杜拜

【文．攝影／陳沛岑】

這個月全球藝術新聞媒體關注的焦點是什麼？答案不外乎是現正舉辦的杜拜藝術博覽會（Art Dubai）。博覽會VIP之夜現場，大批的人潮湧入，來自世界各地收藏家、投資客、策展人、記者、特地前來觀望市場熱度與藝博會品質的畫廊業者塞滿博覽 會的舉辦地——一座看似阿拉伯古城、實為七星級豪華度假村的朱美拉（Madinate Jumeirah）運河酒店內外，親臨到場的阿拉伯聯合大公國皇室家族更是引爆現場的熱度，整個會場燃起莫名的興奮感，現場媒體也瘋狂陷入跟拍皇室參觀的 過程。

而今年的參展畫廊推出的是什麼作品？賣的最好的又是什麼？據本刊實際走訪策展人、現場畫廊業後得知英國收藏家沙奇（Charles Saatchi）雖然未到場，卻在開幕前就已買下「巴基斯坦國家館」（Pakistan Pavilion）中的巨大的箱裝駱駝裝置作品《阿拉伯之樂》（Arabian Delight），而至截稿日前整個國家館中的作品已賣掉60%；展覽會場中最受人關注的還是要屬印度與中東的當代藝術作品，如代理中東當代的The Third Line、展出印度當代的Walsh Gallery現場總是人潮滿滿，兩者均表示售出80%以上的作品，後者甚聲稱當中幾件作品要買的人太多，他們還在考慮到底要賣給誰！此外，許多畫廊業者 表示：從國際拍賣行開始開闢專拍後，大家對印度與中東當代藝術瞬間產生極大的興趣，而雖有為數趨增的海外藏家入場，但中東的金融業者、藏家、印度人、印裔 的海外工作者仍是展場中最大的買家；就連展場中唯一一件台灣藝術家陳奕竹的作品，買下它的也是在杜拜工作的印度新貴！

Uptown, Downtown, Fairs Found All Over

Much anticipated, least visible: the Dark Fair, at the Swiss Institute in SoHo, includes Sue de Beer’s spinning zoetropes. More Photos >

By KAREN ROSENBERG

Published: March 29, 2008

If the health of an art capital can be measured by the number of fairs in town, New York is in pretty good shape. Nine satellite fairs are now orbiting the Armory Show, up from seven last year. (For those keeping score, that’s fewer than in Miami but more than in London.) It’s enough to make weary fairgoers hope for a market meltdown, or at least a little consolidation.

This year’s events have gone to great lengths to distinguish themselves from the Armory Show itself, and from one another. A sampling of them shows that there is a fair devoted to solo-artist projects, a fair of video art in trailers scattered throughout Chelsea and — the ultimate novelty — a fair without natural or electric light.

New this year is Volta, on the 11th floor of an office tower across from the Empire State Building. The fair, which has had a presence at Art Basel since 2005, is making its debut here as a collection of solo projects organized by Amanda Coulson and Christian Viveros-Fauné.

Solo-artist displays, a staple of the Miami Basel scene but less common at the Armory Show, promise relief from fair fatigue. Volta also benefits from its central location, and from its familial relationship to the Armory Show: both are owned by the company Merchandise Mart Properties, based in Chicago.

The thriving scenes of London, Berlin and the Lower East Side have numerous representatives at Volta, but most of the booths reflect international festivalism — none more so than the booth of the Stanton Street gallery Fruit and Flower Deli, where the aptly named collective International Festival has set up a functioning bar strewn with rainbow confetti.

Hamish Morrison, a New Zealand-born dealer based in Berlin, is showing eye-catching, talismanic abstraction by Ronald de Bloeme (an artist from the Netherlands). Kenny Schachter, from London by way of Greenwich Village, has a series of mixed-media works by William Pope.L that comment, with the artist’s typical candor, on the African-American experience.

At the Seventeen gallery in London, the artist David Ersser has turned the booth into a living room made entirely of carved balsa wood. At Hales Gallery, also from London, architecture-inspired drawings by Adam Dant seem to express the incongruity of a cutting-edge art fair in the heart of Midtown (one shows a toppled Chrysler building turned into a playground for medieval warriors).

Leaving Midtown for the West Village, Pulse New York fills Pier 40 with booths for 90 galleries, its largest number to date. Smaller Chelsea dealers like Freight & Volume, Magnan Projects and Monya Rowe are here, as well as the photography specialists Yossi Milo and Julie Saul. Exhibitors from out of town tend to be European, but Mexico City, Beijing, Toronto and Tel Aviv are also part of the mix. The stateless (in theory, at least) Saatchi Online gallery also has a booth here.

Japanese prints can be found at Catharine Clark, and a Henry Darger drawing at the Carl Hammer Gallery of Chicago. Graduate students at Parsons the New School for Design have been commissioned to create “Pulse Pause,” a reading room, which includes a revolving bookcase (by the artist Brandon Nastanski) that leads to a speakeasy.

The Pulse fair has also expanded its special programs to rival those of the Armory. In one of several events slated for “Pulse Performance,” members of the Merce Cunningham Dance Company will interpret music by Christian Marclay (Saturday at 7 p.m.). Parents, take note: Pulse is the only fair to offer a “V.I.P. Lounge for small collectors.”

Uptown, Scope New York is back for a sixth year, and a second year at Damrosch Park in Lincoln Center. Scope, which has fairs in four other cities, often seems detached from Chelsea trends — not necessarily a bad thing. Only 11 of the 50 or so galleries exhibiting here are from New York.

Art lovers who had hoped for a little more razzle-dazzle at the Whitney Biennial might find it here. Works at Scope tend to be flashy: Noh Sang-Kyoon’s giant, sequined Buddha heads at Bryce Wolkowitz’s booth are typical; so, too, Fawad Khan’s life-size Postal Service truck at 33 Bond; and Johnston Foster’s installation of a flock of seagulls, at the entrance to the Scope tents.

With just 15 galleries (14 from Los Angeles, and a guest from Mexico), the three-year-old LA Art in New York is the most manageable fair in town. It is noticeably smaller than last year’s, possibly because Los Angeles galleries have their strongest presence yet at the main Armory Show.

The emphasis here is on prints, photographs and works on paper, little of which feels new or specific to the West Coast. However, budding collectors looking for, say, a photograph by Martin Parr (at Rose Gallery), a Lee Bontecou drawing (at Daniel Weinberg) or a graphic, neon-hued collage by the emerging artist Eva-Maria Wilde (at Paul Kopekin) may appreciate the unhurried atmosphere.

Wall power is here, too, if you know where to look for it. Louis Stern Fine Arts, one of three galleries tucked away in the basement, has a refreshing selection of midcentury geometric abstractions by Karl Benjamin, Lorser Feitelson and others.

The fair with the most buzz this year is, in one sense, the least visible: the Dark Fair, at the Swiss Institute in SoHo. It was organized by a group of artists that include the brothers Scott and Tyson Reeder and Scott’s wife, Elysia Borowy-Reeder, who in 2006 staged a fair in a Milwaukee bowling alley. This “subversive and experimental miniature art fair,” as they describe it, eliminates most sources of natural and electric light. The diner-style booths, painted black, were inspired by the seating at a favorite artists’ hangout in Milwaukee.

Several participating galleries, including White Columns, Leo Koenig and Marianne Boesky, have booths at the Armory Show but were intrigued by the challenges of exhibiting in the dark. Most are presenting site-specific projects involving oil lamps, glow-in-the-dark paint, manual-powered flashlights and plenty of candles. (Each gallery received a set of instructions, including fire-safety guidelines.)

Collectors who have already emptied their pockets at other fairs may be soothed by the soft glow of Tony Matelli’s unusual candle, at the Koenig booth. It looks exactly like a stack of $100 bills set on fire.

Dark Fair at the Swiss Institute, 495 Broadway, near Spring Street, SoHo (swissinstitute.net); LA Art in NY at the Altman Building, 135 West 18th Street, Manhattan (laartfair.com); Pulse Art Fair New York on Pier 40, 353 West Street, at West Houston Street, West Village (pulse-art.com); Scope New York in Damrosch Park, Lincoln Center (scope-art.com); and Volta NY at 7 West 34th Street, Manhattan (voltashow.com) all continue through Sunday, as does the Armory Show itself, at Pier 94, 12th Avenue at 55th Street, Clinton (thearmoryshow.com).

美經濟學家預測中國將成為第三大藝術市場

【文／陳沛岑；圖／本刊資料室】

《藝術經濟：給投資人的藝術市場指南》（The Art Economy: An Investor's Guide to the Art Market）一書的作者暨美國「藝術經濟學」（Art Economics）研究公司的主持人——麥克安祖（Clare McAndrew）於日前接受荷蘭馬斯垂克（Maastricht）「歐洲藝術博覽會」（The European Fine Art Fair）的研究委託，針對2006年以前的拍賣紀錄、博覽會成績、畫廊的銷售量等數據來評估全球的藝術市場發展。如今研究結果出爐，麥克安祖指出：中國已占全球藝術總消費額的5%，位居第四大，位居全球第一的藝術消費國仍是美國（占總消費額的46%），第二是英國（占27%），弟三則是法國（占6%）。但她表示這個研究採取的數據資料僅止於2006年，未加入2007、2008年的數據，事實上就過往的data來看，中國的實力不容小覷，例如與2005 年相比，中國在2006年全球藝術市場的占有率已從3.7%提升至5%，並且，在當代藝術的部份，中國的市場占有率於2006年時已超越法國，與英國各占此類型的藝術市場總消費額的20%。她推測並相信：在2007年時，中國已躍昇於法國之前，成為全球第三大的藝術市場，而北京國際畫廊數量的逐年趨增，以及去年於上海舉辦的「上海藝術博覽會」（ShContemporary Art Fair）都是促成這個現象的影響因素。

蘇富比國際執行長胡凱（Robin Woodhead）則表示：「藝術世界的中心往往與世界的經濟中心不謀而合。」中國在經濟面大爆發與快速成長的腳步，在在影響了它在全球經濟與藝術世界的地位。

躍登中國設計舞台 巫永堅，堅持獨特，台灣創意打造上海世博會「海寶」

【文／江佩蓉】

2007年的聖誕節，來自台灣，在中國打拚六年的巫永堅收到一份大禮。上海世界博覽會主辦單位宣布，2010年上海世界博覽會吉祥物「海寶」，將以他的設計藍圖為基底。在舉世注目的上海灘，巫永堅打敗全球2萬6000件競爭作品，一戰成名。

恭賀電話和詢問的客戶，讓高安路上永堅企業形象策畫公司的辦公室擠了個水洩不通。採訪當天，巫永堅剛簽下一樁280萬人民幣（約合新台幣1260萬元）的年度合約，是2007年總營收的一半以上。

當世界工廠轉變為最具發展潛力的消費市場，第三度創業的巫永堅此刻更堅定信念，三年前，來對了，這是他職涯規畫中最重要的里程碑。「能在上海生存下來，沒有地方不能活！」他說。世界五百大企業，都已經進入中國，更有超過五成將中國總部設在上海，這裡是中國廣告業發展最蓬勃的城市。

屈身壓力鍋，錢少事多求磨練

從1996年開始，連續十年上海市廣告業產值成長都達到兩位數，台灣卻陷入不進反退的窘境，根據台灣尼爾森媒體研究顯示，2007年台灣五大媒體廣告量較同年期衰退5％。

2006年上海市廣告產值達到272億人民幣（約新台幣1224億元），是同年度台灣廣告市場規模的2.5倍。廣告支出約占上海市民生產毛額GDP的2.6％，比世界各國平均值高出一個百分點。因此，2005年底大陸廣告業完全開放後，全球前十大廣告業者紛紛加碼，積極搶進中國市場。

但是，要在中國市場勝出，光靠專業技術遠遠不夠，要先摸透這個市場的人，讀懂他們的心，這一課，卻是巫永堅花了三千多個日子才學會。

復興美工畢業的巫永堅，從學生時期就是各大獎項的常勝軍。進入奧美擔任插畫工作期間，先後參加了企業的形象設計案件，包括二十餘年未曾改變的「伯朗咖啡」、年輕人喜愛的「左岸咖啡」、「六福村樂園」的吉祥物等，都出自巫永堅之手。

年輕的巫永堅對自己的能力相當有信心，直至參加同學的聚會，才知道一山還有一山高。那個年代，台灣購入日本卡通，必須仰賴手工重繪後才能在台灣播映，卡通製作公司也因此得以蓬勃發展。在宏廣卡通製作體系中工作的同學，一天可以畫出20到30張的插畫，工作量是巫永堅的三倍。他想試試自己的能耐，將自己丟到高壓的環境中磨練。

雖然薪水是過去三分之一，他還是決定接下這份新工作。他希望自己能到卡通製作公司練基本工，訓練自己繪畫速度，並且學習過去不懂的拓印法，紋路複製與電腦貼圖等技巧。十個月後，他辭職，開設了自己的工作室。

首度出擊，負債3000萬慘澹收場

過去累積的人脈與經驗在此時發酵，成功來得容易來得早。巫永堅靠著一張1500到3000元不等的案件，和每張1萬元的廣告插畫，創業第一個月營收就有18萬元，這段時間的拚搏讓他累積了第一桶金，並且成家立業在南港買了第一幢價值千萬的豪宅，這一年，他才27歲。

事業的順遂讓巫永堅起了更大的野心。25歲那年，他與友人合夥創設「騰視覺藝術有限公司」，打造「Dino Club」可愛小恐龍的自有品牌，巫永堅擔任設計總監，帶領六十名設計師團隊，負責設計相關周邊商品。創業之途遠比當初設想的艱辛，600坪廠房每月的管銷費用，以及廣告行銷預算都遠遠超出預期。不到兩年，初期集資3000萬元用罄，公司的訂單與銷售狀況卻一直未見起色。

巫永堅的首次創業，就以負債3000萬慘澹收場，房子也被迫削價出售還債。他重新拿起畫筆，回到十幾坪的工作室，開始沒日沒夜接案的還債生涯。但是創立品牌的夢想卻未曾消失，他等待的是一個機會。

在事業最低潮的時刻，他遇見生命中的貴人，為他開啟了前進中國的那扇門。

1992年，巫永堅第一次到廣東參與兩岸設計會議，這是第一次，巫永堅打破過去對中國的落後印象，真正認識開放後的新中國。「中國市場遠比我想像中的進步太多了，品牌的發展需要的正是這樣的市場。」他說。對於這個發展中的新市場，巫永堅躍躍欲試，但前次創業的失敗讓他知道必須更謹慎。

【本文摘自30雜誌3月號】

美術手帖：策展人這一行

【文／岩切澪；圖／本刊資料室】

在活躍於全世界的策展人越來越多的情況下，「策展人」這一行已被討論許久，這看似了無新意的議題，《美術手帖》卻在12月號的專題裡凸顯了它的獨特性，其不僅描述「超級策展人」、「獨立策展人」等當今潮流現象，也詳細介紹這一行工作的脈絡、基本問題和限制，還有討論日本特有的策展人制度「學藝員」（即所謂「美術館策展人(house curator)」）的特色，並關注其策展方法與所重視的方向。在如此的關懷之下，《美術手帖》訪問了今年9月即將舉辦的「橫濱三年展」（Yokohama Triennale）總策展人水澤勉（Mizusawa Tsutomu），他曾宣布想將此次三年展策成「白箱子」（white cube）的展覽，並希望觀眾看完展覽之後能變為徹底孤獨的狀態，進而深刻思考作品的意義。他還形容此次展覽會像「一本書」，這聽來可能有一點古典，不過這樣的構想其實是他在神奈川縣立近代美術館研究及策展30年的經驗裡頭培養出來的結果，在此也可見他身為「學藝員」的自信和理想。「學藝員」這一門工作在日本其實一直都處於很尷尬的位置，常被學者們批評不夠學術，也不像西方系統那樣專業化：他們常常得處理許多瑣事，因此偶爾被稱為「zatsugei- in」（雜藝員）而非「gakugei-in」（學藝員）。

事實上，有些美術館已培養出不少研究者般的學藝員，神奈川縣立近代美術館為其中最有名並具歷史的美術館，水澤便是在其相當嚴格的師徒體系下所培養出的策展人；他除了持續鑽研自己的研究範圍（德國表現主義）之外，對日本現代藝術也相當的熟悉，而這也是他就職的美術館前輩們所營造出來的氣氛。他體會到如何在日本思考日本現代藝術：它不只是美術史的知識，更是每個小細節所串成的全面性體驗。這樣的他將如何策畫今年的橫濱三年展，頗令人好奇而期待。

本期還將去年秋天在東京引發話題的兩檔展覽：東京都現代美術館的「Space for your Future」展及森美術館的「六本木Crossing」展，當作案例分析並觀察策展的過程和實際的種種問題，東京都現代美術館館長谷川祐子（Hasegawa Yuko）的訪談內容尤其精彩。身為一位「超級策展人」，同時也是「美術館策展人」，她不僅關注世界上的美術潮流和當代性議題，也極力思考著如何與市民溝通交流，而且當她說：「我們得創造出有創造性的觀眾」時，語氣聽來是相當肯切的。

【典藏今藝術2008年2月號。訂閱典藏今藝術電子版】

第四屆日本東京Art@Agnes藝博會——東京當代畫廊的新春聚集 (下)

【文．攝影／潘廣宜】

Art@Agnes的六大特色

1.限定與限量
日本限定、人數限量是Art@Agnes的特徵之一。這是個東京地方性的藝術博覽會，所展現的是東京地區的畫廊業者、藏家的品味以及藝術家的特色，也因此 Agnes藝博會的最大特色就是「日本限定」。主辦單位表示明年度如果報名人數過於踴躍，估計可能會採用畫廊推薦入場的方式，完全不對外開放以限制人數。這樣的限定與限量正是為了維持展會的精緻化。

2.日本當代藝術核心的縮影
這幾年來日本的當代藝術市場蓬勃發展，短短數年間東京地區的新畫廊如雨後春筍般出現，而Art@Agnes藝博會所遴選出來的畫廊可說是日本當代藝術的精髓，這裡也是許多藝術界核心人物的交流場所。在會場房間中穿梭的嘉賓都是熟面孔，晚宴上更有所有代表日本當代藝術界的重量級人物出現，這樣的藝博會可說是日本當代藝術核心的縮影。

3.粉領族也買得起的藝術小品
由於Agnes飯店場地精緻小巧，業者所挑選的作品以小品居多，藝術家也比較年輕，平面作品的平均價格大約在10萬至50萬日圓不等，屬於上班族也付得起的價格，故而吸引了許多對當代藝術有興趣的年輕收藏家蒞臨。但由於原本主要舉辦的目的是提供日本內需市場為主的小型藝博會，與招攬國際畫廊參展的「東京藝術博覽會」（Art Fair Tokyo）目標群不同，因此會場中鮮少看到明星級、高單價的日本當代藝術大師作品。不過年輕收藏家族群的增加卻是這幾年來明顯的趨勢，新一代畫廊業者 MISAKO & ROSEN表示，這幾年有許多日本的上班族女性前來購買作品，很多人都是第一次前往Art@Agnes藝博會，而在這之後慢慢成為收藏家的例子也越來越多。

4.低調而高雅的風格
在飯店內舉辦藝術博覽會的形式在歐美已行之有年，由於空間帶來的親和力，讓觀眾與作品的關係更接近。一方面，房間內的展示不但讓收藏家可以有個參考的陳設方式，每家畫廊業者也費心展現作品充滿玩心的趣味性擺設，深受觀眾喜愛，「巴塞爾邁阿密藝術博覽會」（Art Basel Miami Beach）以及「Scope藝術博覽會」（Scope Art Fair）都是成功的典型例子。但Art@Agnes與這些歐美的飯店藝博會不同的是，這裡的空間精緻素雅，展示的小品作也尤其適合日本住宅空間的陳列。不論是畫廊的選擇、藏家的邀請、限量限定客層的藝術博覽會，都在在符合了日本人獨特的感性與需求，低調中帶著高雅的風格。

Art@Agnes在32間客房裡呈現所有東京優秀畫廊推出的作品，而畫廊業者在飯店空間內各處費心陳列，當我們穿梭於各個房間，往往連某個小角落都能發現日本人獨特的細膩心思與有趣發想，令人驚豔，尤其是浴室空間裡的布置創意發揮得淋漓盡致，小冰箱上的空間陳列更可以看到各家獨特的日式幽默及趣味。

5.畫廊獨特的品味與特色
Art@Agnes藝博會場中，「老舖」和年輕一代畫廊各有千秋。其中相當令人注目的「毒」特畫廊有：成山畫廊（Gallery Naruyama）、山本現代畫廊（Yamamoto Gendai）、Rontgenwerke AG、Mizuma畫廊（Mizuma Art Gallery）等，他們所選擇的藝術家風格都相當強烈特出，充滿著一種「毒」特的風格與品味。最近前衛異端的創作相當受到歡迎，不但美術館爭相邀展，收藏家也呈倍數成長中。例如成山畫廊所代理的松井冬子（Matsui Fuyuko）的絹布畫是目前許多收藏家最想要納入典藏清單的作品之一；Mizuma畫廊所代理的會田誠（Aida Makoto）、鴻池朋子（Konoike Tomoko）也都是拍賣會場上耳熟能詳的藝術家，這次在Art@Agnes會場中展出了棚田康司（Koji Tanada）黑色詭譎的雕塑，令人過目難忘。山本現代畫廊所代理的西尾康之（Nishio Yasuyuki）的雕塑女巨人的姿勢與表情也都有著相當震懾視覺的力量。

除了個性派的畫廊以外，尚有許多經營多年的日本東京老畫廊例如：小柳畫廊、Taka Ishii畫廊（Taka Ishii Gallery）、SCAI the Bathhouse、東京畫廊（Tokyo Gallery）、小山登美夫畫廊、Mizuma畫廊等國際規格的畫廊。這些第一代的畫廊由於堅持原則，更因為經歷過泡沫時期的蕭條，也因此相當有危機意識，它們撐過了泡沫經濟時的困境，不但打開了國際視野，也擴張了在亞洲的版圖。這些畫廊代理的藝術家由於藝術語彙國際化，因此歐美的收藏家眾多，更時常參與國際藝術博覽會且與國外畫廊合作展出。

另外值得一提的是最近幾年新一代畫廊業者的興起，譬如負責人原本在小山登美夫畫廊工作達十年之久的MISAKO & ROSEN，以及Sora畫廊（gallery Sora）、ARATANIURANO等三間最近都相當受到美術館策展人及藝評家的注目。

MISAKO & ROSEN的藝術家群非常國際化，海爾登（Nathan Hylden）的素描以及奧村敏雄（Okumura Toahio）的作品相當受到日本藝評家的喜愛。Sora畫廊在Art@Agnes中相當突出，墨西哥籍的藝術家托瑞斯（Mario Garcia Torres）的裝置藝術作品《一封寫給音樂家的信＋詩＋音樂唱盤》，開幕當天就以300萬日圓售出，畫廊負責人羅森（Jeffery Rosen）有著在Taka Ishii畫廊工作多年的經驗，因為是洛杉磯出身，因此畫廊風格有著加州陽光般的清新活潑，讓人眼睛為之一亮。ARATANIURANO最近也因為代理藝術家加藤泉（Kato Izumi）參加威尼斯雙年展因此媒體曝光率大增，作品供不應求。第二代畫廊的興起似乎給日本的當代藝術界注入了更多新視野，相當令人期待！

6.亞洲藏家的湧進
Art@Agnes往年反應踴躍，今年更增加了許多國外收藏家的面孔。其中尤以亞洲收藏家（台灣最多，韓國其次，中國、美國也有收藏家前來）的加入讓主辦單位大感意外，台灣藝術界的大批湧入更讓日本當代藝術畫廊界倍感驚訝。

確實，台灣在今年吹起了一股日本當代藝術風潮，更在卡漫風大型展覽的推波助瀾下，收藏家以及畫廊業者對日本當代藝術作品趨之若鶩；當代藝術界的哈日風潮讓日本當代藝術的主要標籤「卡漫」成為本年度台灣最頻繁出現的關鍵字。

在日本當代藝術畫風細緻、藝術家的語彙豐富多層次、且價格相對合理的情況下，台灣收藏家對於日本當代藝術的喜愛自然不需贅言。不僅如此，日本當代藝術市場的興起也讓許多原本收藏古美術以及中國當代藝術的收藏家再度有了新的注目焦點。從這次來到Art@Agnes的外國收藏家陣容可以看到日本當代藝術的魅力確實已經成為國際的潮流。來到這裡可以看到日本國內核心畫廊的風格與新秀作品，也的確是個學習日本當代藝術很好的機會。然而，眾多的日本畫廊業者對於這樣的現象其實既期待又怕受傷害，對於亞洲收藏家的口袋深度大感讚嘆。一位日本當代藝術業界人士就感嘆地說，真希望日本國內收藏家的出手也可以跟其他亞洲收藏家一樣闊綽。不過也有一些日本畫廊業者對於海外藏家多於日本國內藏家、亞洲收藏家大量湧進的現象感到憂心，畢竟只依靠海外收藏家這種「外強中乾」的日本當代藝術市場現況，似乎並不是一個健全的生態。

【典藏今藝術2008年2月號。訂閱典藏今藝術電子版】

第四屆日本東京Art@Agnes藝博會——東京當代畫廊的新春聚集 (上)

【文．攝影／潘廣宜】

Art@Agnes．新春開市大吉

日本的新年春節長假剛結束，日本國民還在努力克服「長假後遺症」，雖然大多數的人寧願窩在家裡看電視也不想出門，但是寒流仍擋不住日本當代藝術的空前熱氣與絡繹不絕的人潮。1月11日在神樂坂Agnes飯店（The Agnes Hotel and Apartments Tokyo）所舉辦的「Art@Agnes藝術博覽會」，不算是國際級的藝術博覽會，卻是日本當代藝術界每年必參加的活動之一。根據大會的統計，兩天內來訪的藏家與觀眾雖只有2,500人（去年有4,500人），但是今年每家畫廊平均都售出了超過80%的作品，販售比例高出往年水準，反映出今年日本當代藝術市場的好景氣，更鼓舞了日本畫廊業者和整體市場士氣。

日本當代藝術界的新年聚會
由於Agnes飯店是精美雅緻的五星級旅館，可容納的觀眾流量有限，因此Art@Agnes開幕邀請的大多是日本當代藝術界的圈內人，往來的人群處處可見熟面孔，不但可以遇到經營日本當代藝術的畫廊業者及藝術市場相關人士，更可看到影響日本當代藝術脈動的策展人、藝評、媒體、藝術家、館長、收藏家等，由於適逢新年假期過後的第一個禮拜，因此會場中人們互道新春快樂，就像是個自家人的新年聚會般熱鬧而溫馨。畫廊業者忙著到處串門子，小山登美夫畫廊（Tomio Koyama Gallery）負責人則一派輕鬆地說：「與其說是參加藝博會，我更覺得這是畫廊業者間聯絡感情、交換心得與消息的新年聚會。」日本當代藝術市場目前的好景氣也反映在藝術市場業者的燦爛笑容上，晚宴由備受畫廊界推崇的小柳敦子女士（Koyanagi Atsuko，小柳畫廊(Gallery Koyanagi)社長）起頭致詞，畫廊業者們舉杯慶祝開幕成功，期望今年的日本當代藝術又是一個美麗的新世界！

Art@Agnes的成立背景與架構

為期三天的Art@Agnes藝博會，從2005年開辦至今已經是第四屆，其緣起是由Agnes飯店業者千賀徹（Senga Toru）與小柳畫廊開始。千賀一開始想與兒時同學小柳敦子租借畫作在飯店中展示，然而小柳則有更嶄新的發想，她建議在Agnes飯店舉辦藝博會。因此 Agnes飯店就於2005年第一次開始嘗試舉辦Art@Agnes藝博會（Agnes是千賀的日文Senga的倒讀音）。由於參展畫廊以及作品的素質優良，深獲許多收藏家及當代藝術業界的好評，也因此參展畫廊從第一屆的七間，逐年增加到今年的32間滿額。

Art@Agnes的參展畫廊是由數位資深畫廊業者所組成的委員會嚴格評選，從11日到13日展覽期間，將飯店內的32個房間提供給遴選出的參展畫廊使用。不管是老字號還是新一代，這些畫廊都是來自日本關東地區最優秀的當代藝術畫廊，在藝博會規模看來雖屬小型，但是素質相當高。

根據去年參加過Art@Agnes藝博會的藝術界人士觀察，由於去年Art@Agnes人潮蜂擁而至，蒞臨的觀眾超過4,500人，導致在冷風颼颼的門口排隊將近三小時的收藏家與觀眾們抱怨連連，所以今年主辦單位特別記取了教訓，將參觀人潮以時段分散：第一階段First Choice在下午三點舉行，邀請的是日本頂級藏家；第二階段自下午五點開始，邀請各家畫廊推薦的收藏家入場；而最後在晚間七點的開幕晚宴，則邀請眾多日本當代藝術界人士參加，這樣不但可以讓觀眾在限定的時間內參觀、選購作品，更可以讓畫廊業者在有限的時間內接觸到更多的客層與觀眾。每年由Agnes飯店提供全數的客房，各家畫廊負擔展品的運輸、保險以及布置，廣告宣傳及人事費用則是唯一的開銷，不過，由於Art@Agnes基本上是針對特定的客層，因此宣傳上也相對低調，傳播媒體方面只與J-WAVE廣播電台合作。除了開幕前一個月的宣傳期外，開幕第二日起則由J-WAVE電台的DJ整班人馬移駕到飯店入口處，每天都會輪番邀請不同的畫廊業者接受現場直播訪問。由於訪談內容生動、話題新穎，吸引了一般普羅大眾的注目，可以說是相當經濟而有效的經費運用方式。統籌企畫、聯絡、營運整個Art@Agnes藝博會的人員只有一位，即市川靖子（Ichikawa Yasuko）。雖然算不上是大型藝博會，但是32間畫廊的聯絡、場地的配置、藏家的導覽加上媒體以及晚宴活動的安排也相當費心費力。據市川表示，所有的畫廊業者像一家人般同心協力地支持Art@Agnes，加上逐年增加的知名度以及市場業界的景氣，連續多年下來建立的好口碑讓她感到相當欣慰。

預測！日本當代藝術未來趨勢

2008年日本當代藝術會有什麼樣的趨勢及變化？綜合藝術媒體、策展人以及畫廊界人士的消息，日本在未來將會有以下的趨勢：

我有一位在這個世紀華人藝術作品收藏領域很有成就的藏家朋友，他曾自我解嘲地安慰我：「不要著急，不要著急，就讓他們忽略吧。等到他們發現了這些藝術的美好，已經來不及，畫都在咱們家裡了。」話雖說得幽默，其實我們都明白彼此心中的感嘆。

1. 拍賣會如雨後春筍般開張
現在日本的M型社會加劇，高消費族群一面倒向奢華精品與藝術投資的情況下，拍賣公司的人潮更多出了金融界的加入。日本的拍賣會目前有八家之多，其中老字號拍賣會Est Quest與National Discovery Auction house於去年合併，目前是日本資金最龐大、最國際化的拍賣公司。藝術市場業界人士表示今年將會有更多家新的拍賣公司成立，競爭會愈演越烈。

2.旅館＋畫廊的新型空間設立
日本的觀光產業不斷擴張，相對的大型五星級飯店的建設也不斷增加，其中汐留等地（日本電通以及富士電視台附近）更有多間飯店正在籌建中。飯店業者在競爭激烈的觀光事業當中也必須找到更特別的USP（Unique Sales Point，獨特賣點）以增加其特色。其中也有飯店計畫與當代藝術結合，在飯店中除了陳列藝術品，更可以進行作品的買賣，一舉兩得。

3.小型年輕畫廊不斷設立
從第一代畫廊中獨立出來的新一代畫廊業者表現不凡，第一代的畫廊業者也對年輕一代畫廊的表現非常支持，不論是在人脈上或是技術層面上都提供相當多的資源，讓人感到日本人對於「文化傳承」的重視。或許可以這麼說，第一代老舖的堅持與第二代年輕畫廊的活力，是讓日本當代藝術再度起飛的最重要因素。

4.藏家的普遍化年輕化
從去年東京藝博會會場就可以見到日本年輕收藏族群的增加。此外，現在日本女性經濟獨立，不論是女性社長或者粉領族都加入了新興收藏家行列。整個日本當代藝術市場呈現收藏家年輕化、女性藏家增加的趨勢。

結語：浮游特質的時代精神
今年 Art@Agnes藝博會的成績相當可觀，即使作品的選擇以及規模還是針對國內市場。分析其原因是由於四月的東京藝博會即將開始，因此畫廊業者傾向將壓軸大型作品留到國際規模的藝博會展出是原因之一。目前日本當代市場一片喧騰，除了市場以外是否有其他的活動更值得注意？本刊專訪日本當代藝術雜誌《ARTiT》社長兼總編輯小琦哲哉（Ozaki Tetsuya），他針對目前日本當代藝術的現況表示：「亞洲經濟的興起、日圓走低、投資家的興起都是讓去年東京藝博會以及本屆Art@Agnes成功的主要原因，另外，日本年輕當代藝術家素質的提高對整個藝術環境蓬勃發展不無貢獻。《ARTiT》17期（2007.01.17出刊）的專輯中提到日本當代藝術家的獨特語彙有下列幾項：跨領域、交叉、異種交配等多重要素，這也是時常於國外駐村或者遊走於不同媒材的藝術家例如：大伸嗣（Ohmaki Shinji）、鬼頭健吾（Kito Kengo）、金氏徹平（Kaneuji Teppei）、青木綾子（Aoki Ayako）、中川Torao（Nakagawa Torao）、田尾創樹（Tao Soju）、三宅砂織（Saori Miyake）、田中功起（Tanaka Koki）、照屋勇賢（Teruya Yuken）、小金澤＋久納鏡子（Kokanezawa + Kunoh Kyoko）等備受矚目的原因。」

年輕世代的藝術家跨越國界、領域，不斷嘗試在這個不確定的時代找到自己的定位，也因為這樣充滿彈性而具浮游特質的時代精神，不只讓日本的藝術家，包括亞洲當代藝術家都以更國際化的視野、更寬廣的度量衡來看待世界。

【典藏今藝術2008年2月號。訂閱典藏今藝術電子版】

Art market shrugs off economic gloom

By Peter Aspden, Arts Correspondent

Published: February 9 2008 03:08 | Last updated: February 9 2008 03:08

Records tumbled, bidding was frantic and a series of masterpieces found new homes: the London art auction season confounded expectations again this week, performing strongly against a background of nervousness over the world economy.

But as the auction houses sifted through the results of a highly successful week, they will have observed some warning signs that may temper their optimism.

Christie’s and Sotheby’s sold more than £368m ($716m) of art in their modern, Impressionist and Contemporary sales, well above their estimates and proving the art market’s resistance to unpromising economic indicators.

However, were some perilous signs amid the euphoria. One was the reduced number of US buyers. At the Sotheby’s Impressionist sale, which raised £144.5m, they constituted just 13 per cent of buyers by lot and were overtaken for the first time by Russian buyers, who formed 15 per cent.

At the equivalent sale last year, 21 per cent of buyers were American compared with 9 per cent Russian, while in June’s Impressionist sale the figures were 27 per cent and 3 per cent respectively.

At the Christie’s Impressionist sale, which sold £105.4m of works, US buyers formed 15 per cent of the total, compared with 83 per cent who were European (Christie’s figures do not treat Russian buyers as a separate category).

US collectors have traditionally played a central role in the art market and their diminishing numbers will cause concern, although the auction houses claim that the globalisation of their client base has helped insulate them against the economic downturn that has affected US confidence.

Melanie Clore, co-chairman worldwide of Impressionism and modern art at Sotheby’s, said it was no surprise to find Russian collectors playing an increasingly promising role in sales: “One only has to look at the current Royal Academy exhibition [“From Russia”] to appreciate their cultural heritage and educated eye.”

Another cause for concern was the relatively high level of unsold lots, particularly at the Christie’s contemporary sale. The equivalent sale at Sotheby’s takes place later this month.

Although it saw the most prestigious sale of the week, of Francis Bacon’s “Triptych 1974-77” for £26.3m, the highest price ever paid for a post-war work of art sold in Europe, only 69 per cent of the auction’s lots were sold. The sale as a whole fetched £72.9m.

Jussi Pylkkänen, president of Christie’s Europe, said that showed the discrimination of buyers. “It showed the importance of getting estimates right. There is a lot of information available on artists and the market compared to 10 years ago, and many agents happy to give advice. If you overprice you are in trouble.”

Mindful of that danger, Sotheby’s has lowered the estimate of its “Red” charity auction, organised by Damien Hirst and Bono to help raise money for the fight against HIV/Aids, due to take place in New York on Thursday.

The auction house originally hoped the auction’s 83 lots, donated by artists, would raise $40m (£20.5m), but it has revised that figure downwards to $21m-$29m.

The highlight of the sale is a Damien Hirst pill cabinet, “Where There’s a Will, There’s a Way”, estimated at $5m-$7m. A similar piece, “Lullaby Spring”, was sold in London in June for £9.7m, making Hirst the auction world’s then highest-priced living artist. The record has since passed to Jeff Koons.

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2008


Auction houses’ big draws

The week’s top sales

“Triptych 1974-77”
Francis Bacon
(Christie’s) £26.3m

“Grazing Horses”
Franz Marc
(Sotheby’s) £12.3m

“Schokko With Wide-Brimmed Hat”
Alexej von Jawlensky
(Sotheby’s) £9.4m

“La Loge”
Pierre-Auguste Renoir
(Sotheby’s) £7.4m

“Tête de Femme”
Pablo Picasso
(Sotheby’s) £7.4m

“Zwei Liebespaare”
Gerhard Richter
(Christie’s) £7.3m

“Concetto Spaziale, Attesa”
Lucio Fontana
(Christie’s) £6.7m

“Palm Springs Jump”
Jean-Michel Basquiat
(Christie’s) £6.5m

“Femme au Chapeau”
Picasso
(Christie’s) £5.7m

“Buste”
Alberto Giacometti
(Sotheby’s) £5.6m

“L’Ouled Naïl”
Kees van Dongen
(Christie’s) £5.6m

In London, Art and Commerce Scratch Backs

Yayoi Kusama’s “Moment of Regeneration” is among the works at the Frieze Art Fair.
Jonathan Player for The New York Times

By SARAH LYALL

Published: October 13, 2007

LONDON, Oct. 12 — “I thought it was some kind of strange feminist piece,” said Jessica Stockdale, a 21-year-old photography student, pondering “Untitled (Original)” by the American artist Richard Prince at the Frieze Art Fair. “But I do like her boots.”

The boots in question were adorning the shapely legs of the skimpily attired young woman in the installation, whose job is to rub Mr. Prince’s bright yellow, souped-up 1970 Dodge Challenger provocatively with a cloth while the whole thing rotates on a silver disk. While the Frieze program describes Mr. Prince’s work as offering “the ultimate vehicle in which to pursue the combined fantasies of upward and lateral mobility,” it is equally true to say that interpretation is in the eye of the beholder.

“I like the color,” said Janice Thompson, who is 43 and a recent art school graduate. “The fact that it can be driven away — that’s important. The use of the iconography of the girl; for me it would be like the old masters in some ways, especially because she’s quite ... ”

Busty?

“Yes, that was the word I was looking for,” Ms. Thompson said.

So it goes, the search for meaning at Frieze, Britain’s largest contemporary art fair, now in its fifth year. The influential event opened on Wednesday for the usual coterie of serious buyers and collectors, but let in the rest of the world on Thursday: students, artists, tourists, gawkers and members of the noncollecting public eager to take in the riotous jumble of art, even if they were not always sure what it was.

At one point a tour guide — there are tour guides at the fair, and art appreciators can hire private ones — herded his charges, a group of American women, past a work called “Project for Some Hallucinations.”

“This tree is by ... ,” he said, rifling through his notes.

In fact, it was by Lara Favaretto, an Italian artist who had invited Queen Elizabeth II to visit the fair. The queen had declined; Ms. Favaretto had affixed the letter of regret to a tree as an exercise in “living surrounded by the empty set of a show, from which the main character is missing,” she explains in the Frieze catalog.

The women tried to keep up. “Is this a real tree?” one asked.

Some 151 galleries from 28 countries were chosen to take part this year, drawn from 450 applicants; each has a booth displaying its best pieces — or at least pieces it hoped would sell or provoke. The fair, which continues in Regent’s Park through Sunday, is enormous, noisy and occasionally carnival-like, and the mood in one section of the building can be very different from the mood in another section.

To the extent there is a buzz at Frieze this year, it has centered on the booth run by Gavin Brown’s Enterprise, a New York gallery, which has been turned into a flea market organized by the artist Rob Pruitt.

Several dozen artists are selling donated old records, old clothes, old knick-knacks and objects that they have turned into art, sort of, including freshly laid hen’s eggs, brownies, paperbacks and nails (the kind hammered into things) signed by the artist.

The artist Jonathan Horowitz was peddling little 1970s greeting-card figurines whose messages he had altered: from “Congratulations on your new job,” for instance, to “Suicide bombers are people too.” (He also had one that said, “Larry Gagosian is a person too.”)

On Wednesday the artist Sam Taylor-Wood could be found in the booth, photographing members of the public alongside Mr. Pruitt, dressed in a panda suit, at £200 ( about $406) a shot.

Why the panda ?

Mr. Pruitt took off the head for a moment.

“I’m a vegetarian, they’re vegetarians,” he said. “I like the equal parts black and white. I think it’s really funny that they’re too lazy to have sex, although I’m not saying that I relate to that, myself.”

This being a contemporary art fair, there were a fair share of people from all sides of the “Is it art, or what?” debate. Some purists said they felt the work at Frieze had become too obvious, too geared to the market.

“It’s interesting, but not as progressive as we thought it would be — it’s more of a commercial event selling for broader tastes,” said Andrew Kinmont, 35, a classmate of Ms. Thompson. “Although, I suppose if you’re not an artist, a lot of it is very avant-garde.”

One such nonartist was John Harvey, an interior and graphic design consultant.

“Many of these things are almost theater,” he said. He peered at Mr. Prince’s car, surrounded by people photographing its busty sidekick. “It’s ironic,” Mr. Harvey said, “although I have no idea what it means.”

Mr. Harvey, a regular collector (“we seem to be buying a lot of paintings at the moment, but the problem is that we’ve run out of space,” he said), considered another piece: an intriguing collection of fabric, urethane and wood tendrils rising from the floor, sinister or friendly, snake-like or seaweedy, take your pick. He said he had not been able to find the sign explaining what it was (“The Moment of Regeneration,” by the celebrated Japanese artist Yayoi Kusama).

“That’s the bizarre thing — first you never saw the prices, and now you never see the names,” he said. “We’re all too frightened to ask.”

Seven artists were commissioned by Frieze to create projects that “respond to the social and economic dynamics of the fair,” according to its catalog. These included Mr. Prince’s car, Ms. Favaretto’s note and a piece by Gianni Motti, “Pre-Emptive Act,” in which an actor dressed as a police officer does yoga as a way to subvert expectations about authority and security.

Another commissioned artists, Kris Martin, hit on a novel concept: stop Frieze for an entire minute on Wednesday, the day the fair was all but groaning with important art-world figures and important collectors like Charles Saatchi, Frank Cohen and Eli Broad.

The idea was to “succeed in temporarily stilling the wheels of commerce,” the catalog said.

“To be honest, I never thought it could work,” said the fair’s co-director, Amanda Sharp. But the announcement came across the loudspeaker: please stop buying, stop selling, stop talking and switch off your cellphone “in respect of the moment.”

Shockingly, everyone obeyed. Silence reigned. The wheels of commerce were stilled. “It was actually quite beautiful,” Ms. Sharp said.

The great thing was that Mr. Martin’s piece, titled “Mandi XVI,” would probably have worked even if it hadn’t.

“If it failed,” Ms. Sharp said, “it would have been an experiment in failure.”

Why Frieze is hot

From The Sunday Times

October 7, 2007

London’s Frieze fair is the hippest place to be this week: and the art will be pretty good, too

Waldemar Januszczak

Since we live in a democracy, you are notionally free to choose where you go between Thursday and next Sunday. If, however, you live your life in the manner of most modern citizens, guided by the frantic proddings of the zeitgeist, pushed this way and that by the rhythms of cool, then you actually have little say in the matter. If you don’t want to be the only square in your village, you need to go to Frieze. Everybody else will be there.

On paper, it’s just an art fair. But then, on paper, Michelangelo’s David is just a lump of stone. On paper, the Taj Mahal is a building, and Helen Mirren is an actress. When it comes to describing exceptional cultural phenomena, the English language is occasionally out of its depth. And “art fair” is a particularly unfortunate example. It’s the way word two seems to undermine word one that annoys. I’m not saying Frieze isn’t, technically, an art fair. My point is that this glum definition doesn’t begin to capture the drama and buzz of the event in the tent.

For four days in October, the Frieze Art Fair transforms London into a mecca, and collecting into a hajj. People fly in from Miami and New York, from LA and Chi-cago, from Berlin and Zurich, and now, I see, from Beijing, Seoul and Tokyo. Hotels are packed, restaurants booked. You can’t get a limo for love nor money. But the most remarkable thing about Frieze is that it has achieved all this from a standing start. Five years ago, it didn’t even exist.

If you’ve been to the Ideal Home Show or the Motor Show, you will recognise the basic setup. People who want to sell you something rent a venue, jolly it up and fill it with their wares. You are then invited to join them, and are flogged as much of the stuff as your weaknesses will allow. It’s what happens at all trade fairs. But Frieze’s first organisational masterstroke was to locate these familiar exchanges in a venue that was excitingly unfamiliar. Where the typical trade fair takes place in the sucked and spat-out misery of Olympia or tatty old Ally Pally, Frieze happens in a specially designed tented pueblo, a kind of temporary Brasilia made of tarpaulins, situated for some fantastical reason in the unlikely horticultural expanses of Regent’s Park. Marching up to this huge and noisy big top makes you feel like an excited kid being taken to the circus by his nan. And the people selling stuff inside are a different crowd from the ones you are probably used to. Art dealers follow a specific sartorial rule book. The men dress like Mormon missionaries, in dark suits and crisp white shirts, while the women wear only Prada.

The second defining decision made at the outset by the organisers was to deal exclusively in contemporary art. Not modern art, contemporary art. No Picassos, no Henry Moores; no repetition from any of the old-timers. The rule-makers are hardliners on this subject. Only new art from around the world is allowed in. If you’re up with Frieze, therefore, you’re as up as you can be with art. There is nothing fresher than this.

It was all planned and enforced by two absurdly young and adventurous cultural entrepreneurs. One of them, Amanda Sharp, lives in New York, and I know nothing about her. The other one, Matthew Slotover, I’ve encountered a few times, and I can happily confirm that he looks more like my paperboy than the creator of the definitive 21st-century art event so far. As with many contemporary millionaires and internet revolutionaries, he seems far too callow and casual to have achieved what he has.

The name “Frieze”, he confesses happily, was discovered by chance in a thesaurus. He was looking for synonyms for “art”, and there was “frieze”, meaning a horizontal band of carved reliefs. By a curious coincidence, it’s a homophone of the pioneering exhibition mounted in a London warehouse by Damien Hirst in 1988. Freeze was the event that triggered the whole Brit Art thing – and the entire dramatic turnaround in British art taste that was to culminate in the opening of Tate Modern can be traced back, I suggest, to the original Freeze show. So, it was a good name to stumble across.

Before Frieze the art fair came along, Slotover and Sharp ran Frieze the magazine, and that, too, was an impossibly hip blend of obscure thoughts and elegant ads. They started thinking about an art fair in 1998. But it wasn’t until the day Tate Modern opened, in 2000, that they knew they had to go ahead with it. “The whole of the international art world was here,” Slotover says.“They had never come before. But we looked around and thought, they will come to London.”

Bravely and perspicaciously Slotover and Sharp remortgaged their houses and began planning the Frieze Art Fair in the exact detail that characterises their approach to this day. And from the moment it untied its tent flaps in October 2003, it was clear that the zeitgeist was behind it. The figures speak for themselves. In 2005, 47,000 visitors were lured into the great marquee, and spent £33m on art. The next year, the figures were up by 35%. They’ll be up again this year, and next year, and the next. But by how much, we will never know, because, last year, Frieze stopped releasing the details. I suspect they were embarrassed by them.

I spotted Jude, Gwyneth, Elton and Nigella at last year’s Frieze. Jude and Gwyneth were definitely buying, as, I presume, was Elton; and if Nigella wasn’t, then her husband, Charles, whom I also saw, must have been. I think I noticed Claudia hurrying past, too, and Kate would have been there, because Kate goes to everything. Tracey was around, of course, and although I didn’t see Damien, I couldn’t miss Jake and Dinos, because they were plonked right in the middle of the thing, churning out ludicrous portraits of anyone prepared to fork out £4,000 for the pleasure. I wanted to have mine done – who wouldn’t? – but the queue was too long.

Those were just the recognisable faces in the crowd, the A-, B- and C-listers whose presence so handily signals a cultural success. Then there were all those anonymous visitors who, judging by the cut of their thongs and the swing of their bling, constituted a large percentage of the nation’s groovers: the young, the fresh, the giggly. If Al-Qaeda decided to take out the Frieze tent, they would undoubtedly take out most of Britain’s happening types.

But the hipness of Frieze is certainly not why I, a longtime abhorrer of art fairs, approve of this event and, indeed, delight in it. I like Frieze because it gives so much away. I don’t mean the leaflets and baseball caps you come out with. That happens at all trade fairs. Frieze deals in a different kind of freebie. One of the best things the fair does is to commission work by artists who are not directly involved with a particular gallery. This year, the venerable American trouble-maker Richard Prince will be showing a full-size recreation of a macho 1970 car called a Dodge Challenger. The original Challenger was a mass-produced piece of flash that guys liked. But Prince has reversed its usual manufacturing process by building his model entirely by hand, from scratch. What’s being challenged, therefore, is the nature and value of an original – a key art-world question. And seeing it being asked at Frieze is like going to a motor show and finding a poster covered in road-safety warnings. All the Frieze commissions this year seem to be biting the hand that feeds them by asking awkward questions of the event itself. Elin Hansdottir has set up a lighting system that ensures your shadow is split up into its constituent parts as you enter, as if you don’t really exist.

All these performances share a questioning mood. And that applies to Frieze in general. On the surface, it’s an art fair, but beneath that it’s an art-world conspiracy to subvert the system. In my favourite conceptual manoeuvre, Gianni Motti has asked one of the policemen patrolling Frieze to take a regular public break from security to practise yoga. That I really want to see. And it’s why a hardened art-fair hater like me will be at the head of the queue on Thursday, making sure I get in before you.

Frieze Art Fair, Regent’s Park, NW1, October 11-14.

Zoo: Behind the scenes at Britain's coolest art fair

Soraya Rodriguez is the director of London's Zoo Art Fair. But as the exhibitors set out their stalls, she tells Alice Jones why you can't put a price on creativity

Ciaran Murphy, 'Palm Trees From Below', 2007. Courtesy Mother's Tankstation, Dublin

Wednesday, 3 October 2007

Until just four months ago, Soraya Rodriguez was running Zoo Art Fair from her old bedroom at her mother's house. These days, Rodriguez and her team operate from fashionable Whitechapel, east London , a much more fitting home for the fair that began as a satellite to Frieze four years ago but is now quietly making its name as a younger, cooler alternative in its own right.

Last year its showcase of emerging artists from young commercial galleries and non-commercial collectives and spaces took £1.7m in sales and drew visitors such as Tracey Emin, the Chapman Brothers and Peter Blake, while Charles Saatchi, and curators Norman Rosenthal and Nicholas Serota were spotted wandering the stands.

This year, Zoo Art Fair has a new home behind the Royal Academy. Leaving behind not only the quirky location that gave the fair its name but also Regent's Park, home to Frieze, is a bold move that demonstrates just how far the fair has come since it first set out its stall among the penguin pools of London Zoo. "It's good to shake things up," says Rodriguez. "I like doing things in threes. An old boss of mine used to say that in the first year everyone loves you, in the second year you have to sustain it and in the third year you have to start to change."

The Burlington Gardens building used to house the Museum of Mankind, to which Rodriguez was a frequent visitor during her days studying sculpture. Now 35, she embarked on a career in art with a BA at Liverpool University, then an MA at the Royal College.

"I was very intent on being Michelangelo by the age of 26, but that didn't quite work out," she says wryly. After a two-year break from the art world, Rodriguez joined the publications department at the Royal Academy, where she met Max Wigram. A year later she left to help Wigram with his business, acting as his "mini-me" as he expanded his gallery from his front room to his bedroom, eventually going on to become director of exhibitions at the New Bond Street gallery.

Three years later, Rodriguez upped sticks again. Within two weeks she had bumped into David Risley and Zoo was born. "Things like Max and Zoo could only have happened if I'd jumped ship without a clue as to what might happen. If I'd done the sensible thing and got a curating job at the Tate, none of this would have happened. I almost don't feel responsible for it."

But responsible she was, along with Risley, an art dealer who was curating the philanthropic Bloomberg Space (he has since left the fair to concentrate on his own gallery). "We had a nice blend of thinking of a fair not just as a commercial shop front," says Rodriguez. "We'd both been very excited about the arrival of Frieze. And it was clear, even from the first year, that it was turning into a calendar moment."

Rather than compete with Frieze, Risley and Rodriguez decided to add to it with a fair that would give a platform to the myriad young organisations that had sprung up in the capital since the millennium.

Having decided to become non-profit making ("because there was no other way of doing it"), they set about raising funds from collectors including Saatchi, Anita Zabludowicz and Jay Jopling. Many continue to sponsor the fair, under the title of "Honorary Zoo Keepers", and both Saatchi and Zabludowicz will have stands at this year's fair.

Since 2004, when there were 26 exhibitors, all from London, the fair has grown to take in regional and international organisations. This year, there will be 61 exhibitors from as far afield as Los Angeles, Tokyo and Rio de Janeiro, as well as exciting London spaces such as Riflemaker (which counts Gavin Turk, Jamie Shovlin and Julie Verhoeven among its artists) and Paradise Row, home to the cult photographer Poppy de Villeneuve. Rodriguez is hoping that sales will go up by another 30 per cent to top the £2m mark.

"London has kept its momentum," says Rodriguez. "In some ways that scares me because I wonder whether it's possible to sustain this much quality. Perhaps people think, 'the market's great, we can all live a nice lifestyle being a gallerist in a refrigerated space.' But then every year I think that and it's still going."

For now at least, there's no place she'd rather be. "I like being part of somewhere that's burgeoning, really struggling to achieve, constantly at it. It's much more die hard in London. You really have to think about it when you devote your life to it here."

So what should visitors be looking to buy? There is "something for everyone" from £50 imitation Bic pens by Gemma Holt on the Associates stand, to The Rape of the Sabine Women, an epic video artwork by Eve Sussman and the Rufus Corporation from the New York gallery Roebling Hall, costing £100,000. But it's not all about the price.

"People irritate me going on about the affordability of art. There is nothing affordable about art – making it isn't affordable, showing it isn't affordable, insuring, transporting, writing about it. It's a stupid idea to think that we have to tell the public that this is the only way they can access it. The most affordable thing in art is a Tate Modern ticket. You can pay £7 and own it for an afternoon and have an experience of it, which is the true thing that you take away and you don't have worry about the insurance, the transport, the cataloguing, the archive. How affordable is that?"

Rodriguez is equally dismissive of hedge-funders who tie up their assets in canvas. "It'll be a walk in the park for one sunny afternoon, but when the weather changes they won't come back. And who needs them? If you really love something, buy it. If you want to live with it and have tiny pieces of brain surgery done to you every day, then it's a good thing to do. Otherwise, buy a car or buy a dress," says Rodriguez. "It's funny how people expect art to give back this huge dividend on investment. If you spent £5,000 on a Christian Dior dress, you wouldn't eyeball the dress vendor and say 'is it going to cost twice as much in three years?' Why make art do that? It's not fair. Just buy it and love it."

Royal Academy of Arts, 6 Burlington Gardens, London W1 (020-7247 8597; www.zooartfair.com), 12 to 15 October

Picture me in Miami

From The Times

November 25, 2006

Long famed for sun, sea and OAPs, Miami is gaining a name as a vibrant centre for contemporary art. Morgan Falconer explores a city reinventing itself

Coming from Britain, I always thought that the private homes of private collectors were, well, private. Charles Saatchi may throw open a portion of his collection for public perusal, but you can bet that he’ll never let you into his home. I had heard much of the generous openness of Miami’s collectors, but I never realised that I’d be able to land in Miami, make a couple of calls and find myself at the door of one of the most important collectors in the United States. I’m not greeted by a maid, but by Rosa de la Cruz herself, who leads me through a house laden with sufficient material for about five strong solo exhibitions. This is as good a primer as any for Art Basel Miami Beach, one of the world’s most glamorous art fairs.

De la Cruz’s house is devoted to art — paintings, sculptures and installations arranged by artists flown in especially for the purpose. She showed me some of the most recent paintings by the newest names, such as Kelley Walker, and works purchased from shows in London and elsewhere in Europe. (You can tour her house online at tinyurl.com/yc6n3r.) We went into the dining room to see an installation by Christian Holstad which involved a woolly, tentacled gas mask construction (left). Upstairs, we looked at Assume Vivid Astro Focus, a fantastical scene blending nightclub, skating rink and video installation. But de la Cruz’s thirst is not quenched, so she will certainly be visiting the fifth Art Basel Miami Beach fair. It’s the powerful offspring of the important Art Basel, and 200 of the world’s most significant galleries will be coming to the Convention Centre for it.

Like many of her neighbours, de la Cruz doesn’t just collect fine art, she collects design as well (two sets of Frank Gehry furniture made of steamed and twisted wood sit near her french windows). And to cater for that hunger the second Design Miami fair is being held this week. It’s an event that gives space to 18 of the world’s leading modern design galleries. It’s a serious business — the Pompidou Centre in Paris has brought some of its design collection to exhibit in a satellite venue. But serious or not, shoppers will also relax: I understand that one does business in the morning, lounges on the beach in the afternoon, and come nightfall one gallivants with abandon around the faded Art Deco splendour of the nearby poolside bars and restaurants that line the nearby Collins Avenue.

Miami Basel has come to be seen as a catalyst and symbol for widespread changes in the area as a whole. In the 1980s the city was dilapidated, poor and famous only for druglords, pensioners and vulgarity. Although it remains one of the poorest cities in the US, parts of it are starting to show a fabulous revival. One sign of this is the Setai, the new towering beach-front development recently created by a chain of luxury hotels in Asia and the Far East.

One of the most significant figures in Miami is Craig Robins, the 42-year-old property developer and art collector who is largely responsible for the revival of the city’s design district. He says that the marriage of Art Basel and Miami Beach makes a lot of sense. “What you’ve got here is the best and most serious art fairs in the world occurring in one of the places that is also the most fun. It’s the combination of a deep cultural substance with a really vibrant city.”

What undoubtedly lured the Basel organisers to this new location, however, is the wealth and accessibility of the private collections in the city. The Wynwood district, for instance, may be a rundown mélange of light industry, housing and cheap shops, but it is home to world-class art: one warehouse encloses the Rubell Collection, a massive trove amassed by Don Rubell (brother of the Studio 54 co-founder Steve) and his wife Mera; another houses one part of the collection of Marty Margulies, a real-estate potentate with a gargantuan appetite for sculpture and photography. Other prominent collectors sit on the boards of the city’s public museums, Miami Art Central and the Museum of Modern Art North Miami.

It wasn’t until a significant generation of Cuban exiles arrived in the 1990s, bringing figures such as José Bedia, that Miami’s art scene began to come alive. The prominence of the collectors and the arrival of new galleries is persuading artists to stay.

One could put all this new activity down to Art Basel, but the renaissance probably predates it. As Robins says: “I started my business in South Beach, a place for film, music and fashion. Maybe it didn’t have substance, but it was perhaps the only place in the world where everything was about style. Maybe it was less sophisticated, but it has always advocated creativity and individuality.”

Art Basel Miami Beach (www.artbaselmiamibeach.com), Dec 7-10; Design Miami (www.designmiami.com), Dec 8-10.

British Airways Holidays offer a three-night break to the five-star Setai Hotel (www.setai.com) in Miami from £1,145 per person departing Dec 1-16. The price includes return scheduled flights from Heathrow and accommodation. The above is subject to availability and is based on two adults sharing. For reservations call British Airways Holidays on 0870 2421276 or visit www.ba.com/holidays

MIAMI . . .
The Golden Girls
Miami Vice Sunshine: lots of it
Very big hair
Carlos and Rosa de La Cruz
Miami Beach
Alligators in the Everglades

v LONDON
Catherine Tate’s filthy gran
The Bill Light drizzle: lots of it
Lanky Hoxton mullets
Charles Saatchi South Bank
That whale in the Thames last year

The Olympics of the art world

28/06/2004 Telegraph

Art Basel is the world's biggest contemporary art fair, where leading dealers compete to seduce wealthy collectors with their most expensive pieces. Anyone who is anyone was at this year's event – and so was Tom Horan

Into the vast exhibition centre in the Swiss town of Basel come thousands of people, striding forward with an iron purpose. The sun is shining and there is plenty inside that is fun and beautiful, but their faces do not betray even a hint of levity. The building is alive with intention, thick with the possibilities of beauty meeting money. They have gathered to do battle at the Olympic Games of modern artistic commerce – Art Basel, the biggest contemporary art fair in the world.

Money meets art

Inside the doors, staff at a central helpdesk slip without a flicker from German to French to English, Italian, Spanish, Romansch. The fair is open to the public and attracts 50,000 visitors in five days, but the artworld elite is already equipped with its security passes, and marches past the queues for day tickets. Without a glance at the hyper-efficient Swiss signage that marks out the 270 stands, the dealers – or "gallerists", as they prefer – make their way to their temporary homes. Here, inside miniature empires rented at 427 Swiss francs (£195) per square metre, they await the arrival of Art Basel's ruling class – the buyers.

The fair may offer the chance to see an array of post-1900 artworks that would put virtually any gallery in the world to shame, but it is the intricate, courtly dance of a thousand discreet business deals that makes the event so gripping. Descending on escalators from a labyrinth of cordoned-off anterooms and hospitality bays on the upper floors, come the collectors. The antennae of the gallerists begin to quiver as they sense the arrival in their territory of a rather special kind of person. The word "rich" being considered in this milieu the height of vulgarity, they are known in the trade as "individuals of high net worth".

Although I am wearing my best – indeed, my only – suit, I sense that even the rooky dealers on the edges of the hall have me marked the second they see me as an individual of virtually no net worth. I make my way from stand to stand. For the most part the gallerists are too busy attending to the buyers to bother with people who have just come to look. In closely packed, open-sided booths that have none of the intimidatory element of walking into a commercial gallery, you are so close to the art you can smell it. You are left to examine it at your leisure – and watch the artworld at work.

I go up to the first floor, where the younger galleries are billeted. Art Basel sells itself on the quality of the work it attracts, and this is maintained through strict vetting of applicants. A gallery must have been dealing for at least three years to qualify, and then its work is assessed by the fair's seven-man committee. I decide to head for the stand of White Cube, the London gallery run by Jay Jopling. An extraordinary character, Jopling is dealer-in-chief to Damien Hirst and many of Brit Art's key figures, and son of Lord Jopling, a former minister for agriculture. Before I can get there, however, I'm stopped in my tracks by four enormous basketball players on the far side of the floor.

The stunning series of manipulated colour photographs The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse is at the stand of a New York gallery called The Project. The artist, Paul Pfeiffer, has taken action shots from big games and removed the hoop, the ball and all but a single, peripheral player. In turn, this player's uniform has been stripped of numbers, names, sponsors. The lone figure stands frozen and exposed in front of 20,000 cheering spectators. The effect is eerie. "Has there been any interest in the basketball images?" I ask Jenny Liu, the gallerist. She pulls on her cigarette. "They're sold," she says, "and we're in a quiet spot. It's Siberia out here, baby."

From the corner of my eye I catch sight of dismembered body parts hanging from a tree, being eaten by maggots and snails. It's the Chapman brothers' Sex II, for sale at White Cube. Of basketball-playing proportions himself, Jopling in full dealer mode is a compelling sight. He towers over a pair of fortysomething American women, whose haircuts alone have cost them the price of a Chapman brothers sketch. His signature heavy black glasses stand out like a logo for all of Brit Art, drawing crowds of people into the stand. Jopling reaches out a long arm and wraps it round the shoulders of his clients, enfolding them in a decade and a half of London art grooviness. It's irresistible.

	Individuals of high-net-worth

Now he and the two Americans have me wedged in against the rotting flesh of Sex II. "Are you coming to the Bulgari dinner tomorrow night, Jay?" one asks him. "Dinners schminners," he says. "I can't be bothered." I decide that now is the moment to catch his eye and get a word with him, but his command of the room is imperious, and I am blotted out in favour of someone with more noughts in their current account. I decide to take a break and regroup. Being so close to so much contemporary art is having an odd effect. The intensity of all that human expression is unsettling. I slip away upstairs to the Collectors Lounge.

Basel is a drug town, the centre of the pharmaceutical industry, a global business second only to the arms trade in terms of profitability. It's home to many superb art galleries, built on its astronomical wealth. Up in the Collectors Lounge, the financial hierarchies that make up the town are starkly set out. At one end, the luxury jeweller Bulgari has its enclosure, for those with an eye for a luxury jewel. But pride of place goes to Art Basel's other sponsor, Swiss bank UBS. Its VIP enclosure is so exclusive that you can't even see into it. It's ringed off in a circle of ruched curtain that stops just short of the floor, like the one that hides the wizard in The Wizard of Oz.

As they are at the stands on the floors below, most people are smoking. A group of Catalans in their mid-fifties sits down at my table. They talk in dollars, euros and Swiss francs, pet their mobiles, sip at flutes of champagne. They're wondering whether to go to the "Conversations" tonight, the first of a series of discussion panels about burning issues in the art world. They nod at Sam Keller as he breezes through the room, his shaven head glinting.

Keller is the organiser of Art Basel, a dynamic and preternaturally charming Swiss of 37. People love Keller. He has a smile that says success. In a magazine interview available throughout the lounge he describes the qualities required to do his job: "To serve, to listen, to calculate, to moderate, to motivate, to communicate, to analyse, to criticise, to organise, to change, to set goals, to risk, and to take yourself not too serious."

I head down to the ground floor, where the biggest operators are sited, to ask a long-established British gallerist, David Juda, about what makes Art Basel special. Juda's gallery Annely Juda is one of only five that have shown at every fair in the event's 35-year history. He's on the Basel committee. "You can go to a fair like Arco in Madrid," he says, "and find twice as many people, but it's a bit like going to the Ideal Home Exhibition. Boyfriends and girlfriends wandering around and you're not sure if they're really looking at what's in front of them. At Basel people stare intently and they're very serious. This year is a big selling year. You can feel the buzz of people buying. You can tell, because you can see dealers smiling."

Jopling is certainly smiling. He's winding up a chat with another little knot of Brit Art buyers. Sex II is sold, for £450,000. This is his skill, to ease the qualms of buyers, to reassure them that their money is well spent on Jake and Dinos Chapman's astonishing 5ft painted brass vision of putrefaction. I step up to Jopling. "Could I have a few words, Jay?" I'm 6ft 2in, but he looms over me like a great larch. "What's this?" he says, staring at my notes. "'Dinners schminners'? You've been writing down my conversations." Disaster. I say maybe I should come back tomorrow. He tosses my business card into a thick notebook that contains 500 others.

'The intense concentration of art makes huge demands'

I feel dazed. It will soon be time for the "Conversation" and I need to go and change. This intense concentration of art makes huge demands on the imagination, drains your last drop of empathy, exerts an unnerving power. Some of it is breathtaking. The proximity you get to the works – Miró, Picasso, Dalí, Duchamp, Hockney, Warhol, Koons, Hirst – is quite unlike a museum exhibition. All distance is removed; history comes alive; you can feel the ghosts of the makers hovering around them. And beneath it all the incessant whisper: "Anything you see can be yours."

The "Conversations" panel is made up of international museum directors, and starry names. There's the Danish artist Olafur Eliasson, whose enormous sun installation The Weather Project caught the public imagination at Tate Modern last year. Next to him sits the British architect Zaha Hadid, whose innovative projects are lauded rather more frequently than they are built. Hadid keeps turning away from her mic to point at accompanying slides, so all we hear are single phrases: "urban context", "spatial experiences", "aggregates", "typography". None the less, everyone cheers. Eliasson says something about chalk, and then: "How do you present presentation?" No one seems to know.

Then a row starts between an inflammatory German museum boss who has been smoking roll-ups and the chief curator of the Guggenheim in New York. Just as things are getting personal, the lights come up and it's time for a dinner of Louis Quatorzian opulence. The guest speakers throw slightly nervous glances around the room as the high-net-worthers buttonhole them. During the perfunctory disco, I make a run for it.

I take a taxi to the Kunsthalle, which I've heard is the destination after a hard day's culture commerce. You've got to meet Frank Cohen, someone says in the packed open-air courtyard, he's a heavyweight British buyer, fantastic collection – made millions out of wallpaper. The style magazine, I ask? No, the stuff you put on the bathroom wall. He's from Cheshire – had a chain of DIY shops in the North.

Cohen is the soul of affability, full of bonhomie and dry Mancunian one-liners, and hugely enthusiastic about art. He lost some of his collection of a thousand-plus pieces in the recent London warehouse fire. "There's an art fair every week of the bloody year," he says above the din, tugging on a bottle of beer. "And there's only so many modern artists churning out stuff to fill 'em. But Basel's the one. It's where all the dealers bring out the good stuff they've been keepin' back." I ask him what makes him spend his money on contemporary art. "I love it. It's the thing – it's got a sense of what's going on, right now, today, in the world. It's bloody modernity, i'n't it?"

At the end of the night, as Jopling and the international young gallerists let it all hang out at Le Plaza, a basement disco beneath the Swissotel, I think back to a fleeting moment I witnessed earlier in the day. I was passing a tiny private sideroom at the stand of New York giants Gagosian, the premier traders in the modern art game. I caught a glimpse of an old man, finalising his purchase of a deep blue Andy Warhol painting, frosted in a diamond glitter. The Warhol was so dazzling, so iridescent, that it seemed to pulse with life. Looking at the Warhol, the old man too looked alive, animated. This was what all those rich people were here for. They betrayed it in their eyes: they knew that cold, arid money was worth nothing in the end. They were here to strike one last deal, and trade it in for vials of pure human spirit – the finest works of art in the world.

Which have great sell-on value, obviously.