Or: It was fun while it lasted.

The times of the “Upcoming Collector” are coming to an end. Of this here upcoming collector, at least. One year of collecting, a collection consisting of seventeen artworks by artists from Germany, Denmark, Belgium, Canada, the UK and the US … it’s time to drop the absolute beginner’s status and move on.

Don’t worry, I’ll not be gone for long. I’ll be back with the aforementioned “challenge”.

Time to say thank you to everyone who supported me by sharing their knowledge and insider experience, by padding me on the back, by buying me drinks, by selling me work, by questioning my motivation, by pointing me in some interesting directions, by letting me sleep in their living rooms, by sharing coffee with me, by getting me drunk in hotel bars, by listening to my ramblings, by reading my blog, by commenting on my entries, by baring with my irratic writing behaviour, by inviting me for breakfast, by picking up art from customs for me, by hanging their work in my flat personally, by making my ears bleed, by introducing me to artists, by lending me money, by not taking me too seriously, by urging me onwards, by letting me do this and finally by preserving this whole first year for eternity.

You all know who you are.

Cheers!
Tommi

Or: Still laughing.

Ok. So Murakami designs a fabric for Louis Vuitton. Part of the fabric gets chopped up and made into handbags (1k a pop) and some gets the better treatment and is streched like canvas (6k a pop). “Butter Mogul” Clint Arthur  (NBC LA’s words, not mine) spends 12k on two prints (instead of getting 12 handbags) and is unhappy he hasn’t been told it’s the same material. So he rejects the refund (plus interest) and sues. (http://tinyurl.com/cynzhs)

I will throw out some unreflected, cynical and naive comments about this case, just because I happen to feel like it.

A: In my universe, 1k for any handbag is ridiculously overpriced.
B: 1k for a handbag made by a respected artist is potentially quite a bargain.

C: Seeing the same material in two places at once for different prices and deducting from this evidence that it is probably an entirely different material of entirely different value is, … ah … almost conceptual art.

To reverse my argument, let’s compare it to the butchers: Some slices of the same cow will cost you more than others. It’s still the same cow. Try sueing the steakhouse.

D: Accusing an artist who is known for crossing the boundaries between art and commerce of secretly crossing the border between art and commerce is a bit of a paradoxon, innit? (Even if you’re suing Louis Vuitton for it. It’s a Murakami in the end, right?)
E: Claiming the prints came from repurposed materials is just as valid as saying the handbags were made from the left-overs of the prints (like steaks are made from the leftovers of leather boots – or was it the other way around, I can’t remember).

LV isn’t a brand from my universe and Murakami isn’t really an artist from that one either. So I for one wouldn’t open my wallet for any of it. I see Murakami’s point, but the point is neither new nor exceptionally well made (in this case). It’s two chromium celebrities mudwrestling, enjoying the attention, in my humble and uneducated opinion.  And sueing is like jumping into the ring, wanting a piece of the action. Especially since Clint probably isn’t really in need of the 12k, at least if it’s the same guy whose “house is worth what” (link).

No offence meant, Clint. You go on living in your universe, I’ll stay in mine.

But I can sort of understand why friends of mine who are consulting mainstream media look at me weird, when I say that I’m collecting art. What they suddenly see, if only for an instant, is not me, it’s Clint Arthur or another one of those gold-plated celebrities who are reportedly visiting art fairs. “So, did you see Beyonce?” – “No, fer chrissakes, I was looking at the work by this Danish artists who is really doing some awesome work!” “But you did see Beyonce?” It’s your fault, Clint.

I’m just glad that the LA Times called him a “buyer”, not a collector (like NBC LA did). I’ll point to that, explaining to my mother: “See, he’s a buyer, I’m a collector. Big difference.”

I don’t know about you, but I just had a lot of fun for a few minutes. Now I’ll go into the weekend, silently being happy about the work by Troels Carlsen I went for this week.

PS: And I’ll continue using the 20 year old burlap bag I pinched from my wife to do the shopping.

Or: I’m trying to evolve here, so bare with me.

Oh hell, yeah. I have been a bit silent over the past four weeks. No fairs, no new art, other projects, Easter. But that’s not the reason. The reason is that I have been thinking: What now?

And actually, the question is not, why have I started collecting contemporary art. The question is: why haven’t I stopped yet? After all, I get bored with things very quickly.

The answer sounds like a nutcase’s manifesto: Collecting contemporary art has enriched my life. It may sound tacky but that’s the way it is. And I’m not talking about what’s on my walls. There is much more to it. I have met more people in the last twelve months than in the five years before that. And people worth meeting, too. I have travelled more. I have made more interesting experiences and I had more discussions and received more encouragement since I have started my new hobby than with anything I have done in the five years prior. Well, almost.

I may have found this in other fields but what contemporary art definitely triggered sounds even more like I’m a need of a padded cell: I had more ideas and more vivid dreams, I got better in decision making and I improved my skills in terms of analysing my own wants and needs. And I rediscovered the strength not to care what other people think about what I do or like.

So if your life is miserable, start collecting! “Absolutely harmless if applied according to the instructions.” Just kidding, although I guess a shrink might find some psychological mumbo-jumbo to argue for it. In any case and in my universe that’s a whole handful of reasons to continue collecting.

That’s all very nice, but what about the art? - I have been asked that question in a number of ways.

I can’t say much about the art I collect. Not even sure I want to. I like the stuff. It grabs me. The works I own constantly and subtly struggle for my attention. They disturb the act of ironing clothes, as they say in the trade. I’m looking forward to come home to them after the weekend. Some of them I look at and I think: What are you? Why do you live here? Why have I taken you home? What the hell do you want? So far they refuse to answer me, the little buggers.

At the same time, there are artists (for example Troels Carlsen, Eri Itoi, Karen Schepers or Fiona Banner) who continue to haunt me. I keep thinking about their work although I can’t tell you (or me) why that is. I learned that in Science Fiction and Fantasy or Horror, one method of constructing a reality is the “intrusive” form, where things from a universe other that ours intrude to propose a threat. I experience the works of some artists exactly like that minus the threat. While in literature, the intruders usually have to be expelled to restore order, I guess I will have to find ways of incorporating the work of these artists. Try expelling Fiona Banner …

So this is what I will do next. Find these ways. And get the buggers to answer.

And now: Cologne & Berlin. See you around.

PS: Oh-me-oh-my, three women artists in my selection above! No, I didn’t consciously select them; they could be Vulcan for all I care.