Millionaire’s Mall

When I was a teenager, hanging out at the mall was one of my greatest pastimes. There was a ceremony to the whole experience. Firstly, you'd decide which mall you wanted to be seen at. The good malls had Neiman Marcus, Louis Vuitton, Bebe, Abercrombie, and Tiffany's. The lesser malls, like the ones closest to my house, had Macy's, JC Penny, Charlotte Russe, and Claire's Boutique. We'd drive 20 extra minutes to go to the good mall. What you wore obviously mattered. Who you were seen with was paramount because it showed other people who you aligned with musically and fashionably and where you stood in the teenage hierarchy. Also, it was necessary to note which shopping bags you were carrying as it indicated how much money your parents had for your discretionary spending. If you were getting dropped off by your parents, it had to be at a side entrance. If your friends had a car, we'd unnecessarily circle the lot a few times to see who was there before we actually parked. We definitely went to the mall a minimum of once a week to see what was in, out, attainable, or out of our league. We'd torture the poor salespeople at luxury boutiques who'd acquiesce to our requests to try on dresses and handbags that we'd put back because "we had to think about it." The last stop was usually the food court for the free samples of Panda Express on the toothpicks and maybe a fountain Diet Coke. Ahhh, memories…

Lately, it’s all one big flashback. Has anyone noticed there's an art fair or major art event every week? And these art experience are merging seamlessly with luxury retail? And perhaps we are observing the formation of the world’s new shopping phenomena, the millionaire's mall? Firstly, I'd like to preface my following few paragraphs by saying that it is impossible to be an art world purest, and anyone who'd complain about some free La Prairie samples is full of shit. We are all complicit in this art world shift, myself included. I think my definitions and expectations of an art fair week are changing to include the acceptance of luxury products and branding as part of the package. If you look at any installation, activation, or party outside the booths, guess who's sponsoring it? Not a generous art patron. Not an art school. Not another wealthy artist. It's a brand with deep marketing pockets whose clients are the same people who can also afford the art you see at the fair. For example, the people who drink Ruinart at home also tend to be the people who buy art at fairs. Shocking, I know.

Art is becoming globally mainstream the way fashion did in the 1980s. It's time to stop thinking of ourselves as niche and precious. Auction houses hock Nikes, Hermes bags, Kaws dolls, and cartoon jpegs. The notion of the "collectible" hype culture and the overuse of the word "curate" have conflated everything into the realm of fine art. Culturally, we have a neo-pop hangover which makes distinguishing art and expensive luxury items difficult. And to add one more dynamic, representation of artists across race and socio-economic lines means there’s new definitions of what should be considered an art object.

"But Jerry! This is nothing new!" I know. I've watched the video of Andy Warhol eating Burger King too. I have Barbara Kruger's "I shop therefore I am" postcard. I'm not anti-consumer in any sense. I, myself, proudly collaborate with MATCHESFASHION regularly. Jeff Koons wraps BMWs. KAWS sells t-shirts at Uniqlo. Balenciaga just did a runway show at the NY Stock exchange that looked like art to me. Elmgreen & Dragset did Prada in Marfa, Texas. Vanessa Beecroft with Yeezy and Skims. This merger has been a long time coming.

On Friday, I went to an event by Louis Vuitton and Nike for a series of Air Force Ones that Virgil Abloh designed. To me, I was clearly at an interestingly decorated fashion party. Still, upon examining the website for the project and according to the promoters, I was actually standing in an art exhibition. Part of the press release read, "Employing fashion as a tool for change, Virgil Abloh wanted people to reconnect with their childlike outlook and construct a culture devoid of preconceived notions of human and material worth. He continuously questioned the meaning of 'high and low,' a discourse reflected in every image and design he created at Louis Vuitton". I've certainly encountered worse arguments for calling something art, though, in reality, we were standing in a shoe showroom full of worshippers for a limited number of luxury branded Nikes designed by a cult-like, recently deceased fashion guru. Again, I've been in many situations that are almost identical in the art world. For example, Albert Oehlen did the reverse and served a soda he designed out of a vending machine at Frieze as part of his art installation. Language is mixing, definitions are shifting, and wires are crossing. 

Fresh off the heels of TEFAF and NADA, collectors had to simultaneously be at Taipei Dangdai, Art Rotterdam, and Frieze New York - no small feat unless daddy's private jet is fuelled and ready to hopscotch across the planet for art's sake. I still feel like I just got home from the Venice Biennale. But then, without skipping a beat, here we were for Frieze New York, located at The Shed. (Ugh.) Now, I do not wish to negate the irritation many felt getting to and from Randall's Island, usually on a chilly, damp day, or that god forsaken tent that was always too hot or too cold, but there was something so fun about the adventure of taking a boat out to see an art fair on a strange island. It always felt like an adventure and a mini escape from New York. Sure, The Shed has effectively solved all the logistical nightmares Randall's Island presented for everyone involved, but it's also taken away the charm. The Shed also looks and functions exactly like a shopping mall. (There! I said it.) Going up and down the escalators and looking down onto the floors below to see who and what is there. 

The fair, much like the building, also functions as a shopping mall. The floors are tiered with the mega and mega-minus galleries on the ground floor. Easy access! The two levels above are for galleries that could afford less expensive placement and, by comparison, sell cheaper art. (*Notice I did not use the term affordable art.) And as you go to their top floor, you're in their lounge area with free Illy coffee samples, bars of MATCHESFASHION chocolate, La Prairie samples, glasses of Ruinart in collaboration with Jeppe Hein, and learn all about Vista Jet. This is where you find an empty table to sit around, gossip, show off your swag, brag about what you bought, bemoan what you couldn't, and avoid eye contact with whoever you're tired of air kissing. I mean, what would you have done when in the mall food court when you saw the overly-eager girl from from math class? Why you ignored them, of course! Same rules apply here.

And what you wore to the mall, I mean, fair, matters a lot. A Hermes bag means everyone will speak to you because you or your spouse must be rich. Dress clownishly fashionable, and no one will take you seriously. If you're a man, I feel bad for you unless you can afford at least flex a Patek Phillipe. The fashion vibe is always to downplay the most expensive items in your closet and act like you're unaware that those Prada leather joggers were $3,940. In fact, you never looked at the price. That'd just be crass. You'll want to look terrifyingly smart or hot enough to be charmingly stupid. You’ll want to be carrying a tote from a blue chip gallery with one of their catalogs as it signals that they speak to you, and you're important enough for them to waste promotional materials on. Never act too impressed, but always remain pleasant because you never know who you could be speaking to. This could be the nerd you've been searching for to do your math homework, or conversely, this nerd could be the artist liaison to that artist whose work you're absolutely desperate for in your collection. 

Art fairs now also have predictable galleries that show with them, and the galleries show predictable artists. When you walk into Karma, you know you'll see Ann Craven's work. (Who I love.) Or you know that Perrotin will be showing a Maurizio Cattelan sculpture, Daniel Arsham, and then whatever hot painter they're newly showing. CANADA is usually showing one of the Katherine's. There's always a Charles Gaines tree somewhere in the Hauser booth. White Cube will probably rotate in a Tracy Emin's painting at some point. At the mall, you knew exactly what you'd get. You'd get solid basics at The Gap, and you could get a Marilyn Manson t-shirt at Hot Topic, and something cute for a party at Bebe. Frieze has become precisely like this and making complete economic sense. To do this every week, these galleries need to know what works and go with it, but oh my god, is it getting stale for a person who looks at art professionally. Nevertheless, a failed or risky booth could easily be an $80,000 mistake which could topple the house of cards many of these galleries are built upon. Everyone is playing it nice and safe. It's 99.9% painting and a little smattering of sculpture. There's nothing controversial, racy, sexy, bold, or funny. It's tidy, well-made objects that say as little as possible while commanding as high a price as possible. To Frieze's credit, they've found a formula, and clearly, it's working as they're expanding to Seoul this September. I've also heard no complaints from dealers about sales. 

The energy at this fair was particularly low, and it's for sure a combination of art enthusiasts being bored, collectors being spread thin with a fair every week, predictable choices by the galleries, and tired sales staff. I spoke to a few salespeople, and all they could do was talk about how tired they were, and how rarely they go home. Conversely, many of the major dealers didn't themselves bother showing up and sent in the B squad in their stead. Everyone knows we all go to see them as much as we do the art. That buzzy feeling that you could run into the most popular girl in school while browsing at Tiffany's was absent. I went on the second day of the fair (gasp), and this could have been my fatal error. I saw maybe 2 people total that I knew, and it was empty. It felt like going to the mall in the middle of the school day. All strangers. 

Frieze is not the only chain of art fairs to use this model. Art Basel and its iterations are using almost the same model and many of the same brand partners or sponsors of the fairs. The overt blending is the signal that this kind of art is meant for this kind of consumer, i.e., one who can afford to be in another major city every other week with 5-star accommodations, wear caviar on their face, eat strictly Michelin, dress casually in Brunello Cucinelli, all while being able to comprehend overly wordy exhibitions texts, easily identify movements in art, and be willing to pay anything if it's from a mega gallery.

Art Basel Hong Kong is next if you’re already itching. Zurich Art Week to follow that in just a few weeks with Art Basel in Switzerland a couple days later. My teenage past time and humanity's highest expression have merged. Welcome to the Millionaire's Mall. 

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