In search of the meaning of art, of trying to get to know “those beings capable of sacrificing so much to create something of such little obvious practical value”, of “developing the eye” in the face of “the lack of visual literacy”, Bianca delved into Darkness.
It happened in a gallery in Brooklyn, in the Gowanus neighborhood. She raised her hand when performer AllFire (Amada Alfieri), dressed in black lace lingerie, asked for a volunteer to make her the number one to experience sensations from her while she sat with her ass in his face. collaborator.
“I don't know what I expected to discover when a pantsless woman crushed my airways, but I guess I thought art would never change my life unless I took some risks.”
This is what Bianca Bosker writes in her recently published Get the Picture, a book in which she describes an amazing journey between inspired artists and compulsive art fans. She infiltrated what turned out to be “a paranoid group” for several years.
He pulled out all the stops to unmask the absurdity of the contemporary art scene, the reason it attracts so much money and talent (not always) and to understand the hierarchies. She worked for galleries, which allowed her to experience fairs like Art Basel Miami from within, she acted as a dealer, she worked as an artist's assistant, she rubbed shoulders with curators and critics, even to be in full contact with the works and the public, She put on the uniform after being hired as a guard at the Guggenheim in New York.
He already had experience sneaking into foreign territories to do journalistic investigations. He did the same in Cork Dork, in Spain. He took a tour of the field of oenology and its surroundings. One day last week, at breakfast time, a time not conducive to morapio, in a restaurant on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, Bosker smiles at the dilemma. “Choosing between one book and another is like asking a mother which child is her favorite,” he clears up the matter. “It is true that wine drinkers talk more because they drink,” he jokes. Yes there are differences.
“I did a lot of blind tastings, you sat down and had to figure out what the wine was, ignoring the context,” he points out. While in art “little time is spent reflecting on the pieces themselves and, instead, one values the school the creator attended, who owns his works, who his friends are, who he hangs out with.” go to bed,” he emphasizes.
So he does not hide that he was surprised when he approached this other sphere, in which he focused on emerging artists, not established ones, both gallery owners and artists. He focused on those who “have to do mental math to calculate if they can afford a bagel,” the passionate ones who “count every dollar to keep the studio open,” who “sleep on friends' couches,” where each sale is a party.
“There is a small group that makes money, whose work achieves greater and greater sums. That's why I found the emerging ones so interesting, the young people who try to get in and who take you beyond the fairy tale," he remarks.
He listened to nepo babies (privileged children) who were reluctant to discuss their benefits, until gallerist Rob Dimin opened up to confess. “Getting to this point without family support? “No, fuck,” he acknowledged.
“The art world considers secrecy to be key to its survival,” says Bosker when analyzing his investigation. This is what it is, a gallery owner from lower Manhattan confessed, “because not everyone has access and not everyone understands it and it's the kind of thing that creates interest and intrigue.” The journalist clarifies: “Innocent, obsessive, unethical things are covered, others that border on illegality and, at the same time, there is the illusion that the system is working well.”
She detected “a hidden logic” and “a strategy of snobbery,” in which those who use the word beauty when commenting on a painting or a sculpture, or who hide prices, are denigrated – “even those who are inside believe it is frustrating” – and potential buyers are investigated.
“Sometimes you feel like this is about adding zeros to the label,” he says. But having money is no guarantee of access to art ownership. “I met gallery owners who vetted buyers, who only wanted good people,” which translates into someone “with a reputation” in the sector and contacts with museums. Money from certain financial sectors is rejected and sometimes something is denied due to random circumstances. “A prominent collector from Austin, Texas, told me that he wanted a work by an author and the gallery objected because in Austin there were several works by that author and they did not want there to be more,” he emphasizes.
Although art created by African Americans is encouraged, few African Americans are given the opportunity to purchase that art.
Getting into this industry was complicated. He made calls and sent emails and the responses were always negative. Until Jack Barrett accepted her into her establishment, Gallery 315, in downtown Brooklyn.
“Perhaps I naively expected a free-thinking, unorthodox, iconoclastic collective that wanted to reach as many people as possible with the warm embrace of art, people who do crazy things like can their own shit for a sculpture or who stand naked at the door of a museum and eager to share her passion,” she says.
“Instead I was shocked by the fear I found, afraid to speak. The lack of news coverage of art is reiterated and I wanted to pay attention to them, but they rejected me or were only prepared to speak off the record. This is, in a hidden, unidentified way.
Among the things that were frowned upon, he was taken aback by the idea of how detrimental the second market is for emerging artists. Julie Curtis, a French artist living in the Big Apple, welcomed Bosker as an assistant and was the one who explained the panic of a rapid revaluation of her creations. A work that sold for $1,400 in a gallery, at auction later climbed to $209,000.
In addition to the fact that in the US, artists do not see a cent of that secondary market, at the beginning of a career, “high prices are in bad taste,” he writes in his book. Curtis was scared that, as with others, this too-early hype could destroy his path.
“An auction record is described as a failure, it derails an artist's career and is a sign that people are losing faith in the longevity of that career,” says the writer.
As a guard at the Guggenheim, he was aware of the disconnection that often exists between institutions and viewers. Bosker took the opportunity to talk with them. He heard about their complaints about things like illustrative labels, full of technicalities that seem only dedicated to experts.
During his journey he came across “curators more concerned with the opinion of a few artists than that of the public” for whom they organize exhibitions. Having said all this, and although Bosker is seen as the bad cop, she is also the good cop who inspires love and the need to enjoy art.
