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Post by sleepboy on May 25, 2010 10:05:16 GMT -8
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Post by danbarry on Jun 1, 2010 20:07:57 GMT -8
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Post by jediak on Jun 15, 2010 5:03:58 GMT -8
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Post by untilshewokeme on Jun 21, 2010 16:01:24 GMT -8
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Post by troom on Jul 2, 2010 9:01:01 GMT -8
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Post by droow2 on Jul 2, 2010 13:06:46 GMT -8
Is that for real!!! If it is it's scaaary!
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Post by danbarry on Jul 18, 2010 12:23:54 GMT -8
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Post by danbarry on Jul 18, 2010 12:26:58 GMT -8
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Post by gildoinc on Jul 26, 2010 12:05:36 GMT -8
Great article in the LA Times about collecting in America. American art collectors ripe for study With names like Morgan, Getty and Huntington attached to impressive collections available for public view, the history of art collecting in America has acquired a new level of scholarly scrutiny. www.latimes.com/entertainment/news/la-ca-collectors-20100718,0,7199927.story
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Post by gildoinc on Jul 27, 2010 22:44:58 GMT -8
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Post by droow2 on Aug 6, 2010 9:27:46 GMT -8
This could well be old news but i just stumbled upon it and found it quite amazing!!
I inhaled her!!!
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Post by danbarry on Aug 20, 2010 12:01:42 GMT -8
"When you’ve really made it on Wall Street, you fill up your Fifth Avenue co-op with expensive art, just as surely as snow is followed by little boys on sleds... Even if buying art is a rich man’s sport, there is still a need for some serious introspection among those who buy and sell art..." opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/08/19/a-bull-market-in-sketchy-art/
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Post by danbarry on Aug 21, 2010 6:19:50 GMT -8
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Post by sleepboy on Sept 8, 2010 6:47:45 GMT -8
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Post by gildoinc on Sept 14, 2010 21:36:47 GMT -8
www.nytimes.com/2010/09/03/arts/design/03badart.html?_r=3&partner=rss&emc=rssArticle in the NY Times about people who collect "bad Art". hmmm. A BLUE woman and her red daughter smile with the hungry mouths of zombie maniacs. The hand of a Bigfoot grazes the breast of a topless unicorn mermaid. Faces decorate the pregnant belly of a pantsless man-boy. It’s the wondrous, if not always wonderful, world of art so bad it’s good — or at least great fun to look at. With its U.F.O.’s, suicidal clowns, smiling genitals and other shocking, humorous or bleakly sentimental imagery, “bad art” — or “vernacular painting” and “found art” in polite circles — has achieved the status of a genre, a tiny but devoted corner of the art world. It’s a place where the passion of an amateur is prized over the skill of a technician and where an artist’s identity is of little or no importance. It’s neither kitsch (too cheery) nor camp (too smart) nor outsider (way too good and way too expensive). The best bad art is anonymous, strange, clumsy and cheap (or free, if you’re lucky).
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Post by svenman on Sept 15, 2010 11:47:56 GMT -8
what an ass-hat.
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Post by gildoinc on Sept 15, 2010 14:57:03 GMT -8
Great little NY Times piece on Blek Le Rat. www.nytimes.com/2010/09/16/fashion/16ROW-1.html?_r=1&ref=designArt for Guys Who Hate Museums By ERIC WILSON Published: September 15, 2010 ON Monday morning, the street artist known as Blek le Rat, considered the godfather of stencil graffiti art, set out to create his latest work on a wall opposite the Standard Hotel on West 13th Street. Mr. le Rat (né Xavier Prou) has been spray-painting his tag on monuments and street corners since 1981, and because what he does is usually illegal, he uses stencils to be speedy. He was working more leisurely on Monday, since the new work was commissioned by Details magazine as part of a strategy to align itself with creative types in different fields, including perhaps what is the last corner of the art world that had not yet been appropriated by fashion for its marketing purposes. Three other graffiti artists will create murals for Details in the coming weeks. “Public art is probably one of the most transformative parts of urban living,” said Bill Wackerman, the publisher of Details. Mr. Wackerman is interested in how modern men, particularly those living in big cities, have outlived their metrosexual phase and are now going through something he called a “metromorphosis.” That is to say, they’re interested in things besides moisturizer. Like art. So Mr. le Rat was asked to create a mural that spoke to the modern masculinity. He was nearly finished with the work, called “My Mother’s Eyes,” around 3 p.m. Against a black brick wall, he had stenciled a mother and child, after a Baroque painting by Guido Reni, and a man holding his hand up to silence a crowd of onlookers on the other side. “It means take care of your family and don’t bother me too much,” Mr. le Rat said. He was happy to have been asked, since graffiti’s renaissance in recent years has given new respect to his profession. “There are too many artists making too many pieces today,” he said. “Art has become so massive that we don’t understand what is happening anymore.” He could just as easily have been talking about designers at Fashion Week. Anyway, he had a lot to say on the subject of modern man, such as: “Keep quiet. One of the things of which I am absolutely sure is that women will one day rule the world, and there will be no more war.” Also, “stop eating meat,” he said.
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Post by rsingletary on Sept 18, 2010 12:31:19 GMT -8
Before you click on link below go back to page 2 of this thread and scroll down about half way. Then click on __Adorable story__reply #23 posted by commandax. It tells the story of a teenage assistant to Andy Warhol who worked for free. Warhol ended up giving her a 1965 " Self Portrait " as payment. 40 years later she sold it at auction for $6,130,500. (includes auction house commission). oneartworld.com/auctions/with?sale=S63&lot=24This link takes you to: Sotheby's Contemporary Art Evening Sale__Nov. 11, 2009 " Self Portrait " 1965 by Andy Warhol Size: 22 1/2"x 22 1/2" SOLD for: $6,130,500. (including auction house commission). Posted this link in case anyone was interested in seeing the painting. __________________________________________________ Signed: Robert Singletary__Saturday Sept. 18, 2010__4:31 P.M. (eastern standard time) USA
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Post by artladval on Sept 20, 2010 14:32:16 GMT -8
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Post by hellosir on Sept 26, 2010 14:39:45 GMT -8
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Post by gildoinc on Oct 19, 2010 21:37:15 GMT -8
I loved this article of sorts. It's definitely worth a quick read. Why I'll never sell my Damien Hirst by Tim Williams www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2010/oct/18/damien-hirstWhy I'll never sell my Damien Hirst The shark drawing that Hirst sent me would be worth a small fortune, but it's the personal value that speaks volumes Tim Williams guardian.co.uk, Monday 18 October 2010 17.00 BST I've always had the "collecting bug". Sometimes, but rarely, I'll let on about my art collection. I'm not a boastful character, but if conversation in the pub gets on the topic of art, I might look down at the floor and mention with slight embarrassment: "I've got one of those." I'm not certain why I feel embarrassed – perhaps it's because the amicable drinking colleague has just sponsored me another round of drinks after the expiration of my limited funds. So writing about it for a national newspaper website may seem contrary to my code. In close proximity to where I'm sitting are drawings by major exponents of British art: Damien Hirst, Grayson Perry, David Shrigley, Gerald Scarfe, Ralph Steadman and others. Some were acquired through chance meetings with the artists, and others by return of post. Most, if not all, are dedicated to me personally, and that factor is just one of the reasons they are not for sale and never will be, no matter what someone offers or how many bailiffs come knocking. I've always admired Hirst; much of his art is infused with humour and immediately accessible. The art world takes itself way too seriously, so when someone like him comes along to liven the stiffs up a bit, it's a breath of fresh air. No matter whether you love him or loathe him, he has been instrumental in the establishment of modern art in Britain for the past decade. The first Hirst piece I'd attempted to purchase was a Momart Christmas card on eBay in 2003. Needless to say, it went way over my budget, so when Sotheby's announced the sale of the contents of Phamacy – the former Notting Hill restaurant part owned by Hirst, who had also designed all the fixtures and fittings, in October 2004 – I eagerly hopped on the train to London in the hope of acquiring an item within my price range. However, my excitement was quickly thwarted when lot No 1, a pair of Martini glasses with the estimate of £50-70, went under the hammer for £4,800. The rest of the sale proceeded in this fashion. Fortunately, all was not lost as the sale provided the inspiration and bulk for one of my university term papers entitled "Damien Hirst: The market shark", which I concluded by stating: "We can be certain … that Damien Hirst's work will continue to make waves in the market place; what we cannot determine, however, is when the shark will be caught."
It became clear that I was never going to afford to buy a Hirst artwork. So in 2006, I thought I'd write to him and ask whether he'd be kind enough to draw me something, anything. In my humble package I included a pencil, a mini Mars bar and a sheet of drawing paper. I found a vague address and popped it in the post. At the very worst I'd deprived myself of my favourite confectionary, at best I'd probably receive my package back with no such address.
A week or so went past, by which time I'd pretty much forgotten all about it until I checked the morning's mail. There was my envelope, with my hand writing and my return address circled in a black marker. I opened the package, intent on consuming the chocolate to ease my disappointment, but it had disappeared. My sheet of drawing paper was now emblazoned with graphite. He'd drawn me the freaking shark! I couldn't have wished for anything better. Inscribed on it is "For Tim Williams who will NEVER sell xxxx" – something I had promised in my letter. I don't know why, but I was particularly pleased to observe a section he'd rubbed out and corrected and that he hadn't returned the pencil – I like to speculate that he may have even used my pencil in subsequent artworks.
Obviously, the recent press about Hirst doodles going up for auction has caught my attention. I was gobsmacked to observe a large preparatory drawing of sharks visually quite similar to mine go under the hammer in the Hirst sale at Sotheby's in 2008 for £193,250. Friends advised me to sell – one exclaimed that "given that Hirst is about the commodification of art, he should appreciate your gesture if you sell".
I remember reading an interview with Hirst where he was expressing his disappointment in noticing gifts he'd given to close friends in the form of quite substantial artworks had appeared at sale without prior consultation. It struck me as rather cold and self-serving, even if I would be careful not to judge the actions of others.
However, I'll never sell.
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Post by steveinca on Oct 19, 2010 23:51:34 GMT -8
I loved this article of sorts. It's definitely worth a quick read. Why I'll never sell my Damien Hirst by Tim Williams www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2010/oct/18/damien-hirstWhy I'll never sell my Damien Hirst The shark drawing that Hirst sent me would be worth a small fortune, but it's the personal value that speaks volumes Tim Williams guardian.co.uk, Monday 18 October 2010 17.00 BST I've always had the "collecting bug". Sometimes, but rarely, I'll let on about my art collection. I'm not a boastful character, but if conversation in the pub gets on the topic of art, I might look down at the floor and mention with slight embarrassment: "I've got one of those." I'm not certain why I feel embarrassed – perhaps it's because the amicable drinking colleague has just sponsored me another round of drinks after the expiration of my limited funds. So writing about it for a national newspaper website may seem contrary to my code. In close proximity to where I'm sitting are drawings by major exponents of British art: Damien Hirst, Grayson Perry, David Shrigley, Gerald Scarfe, Ralph Steadman and others. Some were acquired through chance meetings with the artists, and others by return of post. Most, if not all, are dedicated to me personally, and that factor is just one of the reasons they are not for sale and never will be, no matter what someone offers or how many bailiffs come knocking. I've always admired Hirst; much of his art is infused with humour and immediately accessible. The art world takes itself way too seriously, so when someone like him comes along to liven the stiffs up a bit, it's a breath of fresh air. No matter whether you love him or loathe him, he has been instrumental in the establishment of modern art in Britain for the past decade. The first Hirst piece I'd attempted to purchase was a Momart Christmas card on eBay in 2003. Needless to say, it went way over my budget, so when Sotheby's announced the sale of the contents of Phamacy – the former Notting Hill restaurant part owned by Hirst, who had also designed all the fixtures and fittings, in October 2004 – I eagerly hopped on the train to London in the hope of acquiring an item within my price range. However, my excitement was quickly thwarted when lot No 1, a pair of Martini glasses with the estimate of £50-70, went under the hammer for £4,800. The rest of the sale proceeded in this fashion. Fortunately, all was not lost as the sale provided the inspiration and bulk for one of my university term papers entitled "Damien Hirst: The market shark", which I concluded by stating: "We can be certain … that Damien Hirst's work will continue to make waves in the market place; what we cannot determine, however, is when the shark will be caught."
It became clear that I was never going to afford to buy a Hirst artwork. So in 2006, I thought I'd write to him and ask whether he'd be kind enough to draw me something, anything. In my humble package I included a pencil, a mini Mars bar and a sheet of drawing paper. I found a vague address and popped it in the post. At the very worst I'd deprived myself of my favourite confectionary, at best I'd probably receive my package back with no such address.
A week or so went past, by which time I'd pretty much forgotten all about it until I checked the morning's mail. There was my envelope, with my hand writing and my return address circled in a black marker. I opened the package, intent on consuming the chocolate to ease my disappointment, but it had disappeared. My sheet of drawing paper was now emblazoned with graphite. He'd drawn me the freaking shark! I couldn't have wished for anything better. Inscribed on it is "For Tim Williams who will NEVER sell xxxx" – something I had promised in my letter. I don't know why, but I was particularly pleased to observe a section he'd rubbed out and corrected and that he hadn't returned the pencil – I like to speculate that he may have even used my pencil in subsequent artworks.
Obviously, the recent press about Hirst doodles going up for auction has caught my attention. I was gobsmacked to observe a large preparatory drawing of sharks visually quite similar to mine go under the hammer in the Hirst sale at Sotheby's in 2008 for £193,250. Friends advised me to sell – one exclaimed that "given that Hirst is about the commodification of art, he should appreciate your gesture if you sell".
I remember reading an interview with Hirst where he was expressing his disappointment in noticing gifts he'd given to close friends in the form of quite substantial artworks had appeared at sale without prior consultation. It struck me as rather cold and self-serving, even if I would be careful not to judge the actions of others.
However, I'll never sell.Kind of reminds of when I was a kid, collecting sports cards. I'd write letters to my favorite players, asking for an autograph, baseball card and SASE included. Most sent autographed cards to me, few didn't respond, and fewer sent amazing packages with all sorts of goodies.
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Post by jediak on Oct 20, 2010 4:22:26 GMT -8
A fun read, thanks for sharing.
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Post by lowpro on Oct 20, 2010 5:56:30 GMT -8
Address anyone? I've already got my spin art setup packaged with paints and all.
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Post by untilshewokeme on Oct 20, 2010 11:41:23 GMT -8
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