Tag Archives: dirty money

TOP TEN THINGS TO SEE AT THE VENICE BIENNALE 2015

5 May

Aper

PPBorborygmusArtCriticBY GUEST CRITIC PP BORBORYGMUS, CONTEMPORARY ART CORRESPONDENT AT LARGE FOR TEMPORARY CON ART MAGAZINE

1. THE FRIEZE PARTY

It’s fabulous because hardly anybody can get in, so no riff-raff will be there to see you trash the place and talk shit about the person you’ll then turn right around to, air kiss and and be all smiles with. You’ll see lots of peons outside, though, trying to blag their way in as you sail through like an oligarch’s yacht (see No. 2) deliberately ramming a Mediterranean immigrant raft. That’ll show them who’s important and who isn’t. Matthew Slotover is a darling and almost never strangles people then stuffs them into weighted suitcases to dump into the lagoon from the back of a water taxi in the middle of the night a bit like that chap in American Psycho. Don’t forget to appreciate his tasteful business card and you should be fine.

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Matthew Slotover rarely does this.

2. PARTY ON AN OLIGARCH’S YACHT

It’s fabulous because everybody is incredibly rich. There are always a few yachts docked beside or crashed into the front walls of Venice’s historic palazzi. Oili Massovoye-Ubiystvic’s über-yacht is the crème de la crème; it’s forty storeys high, matte black, armed with mortars supplied by Poju Zabludowicz, and it has its own designer brig section for permanently imprisoning Middle Eastern refugee women who’ve been sold into sexual slavery. If you ever wondered about Venice parties having so many bevies of dazed, dopey, dusky twenty-two year olds in couture dresses, wonder no more. And the answers are yes, they come from O M-U’s sex brig; don’t worry, they probably won’t remember much because of the rohypnol; maybe, but don’t touch what you can’t afford because breakages must be paid for; no, the dresses don’t belong to them.

3. PARTY BY ONE OF THE COUNTRIES WHO HAD A BIG ENOUGH EMPIRE TO BE IN THE GIARDINI

Get there reasonably early because sometimes they’re a bit stingy with the free nibbles and drinkies. Something to do with tax payers’ money? You might be surprised how many tax payers you actually know, so just get as much down you as possible and politely pass over the tricky subject of who pays for all this stuff. Grab a whole bottle from a passing tray if you can. On the plus side you can probably tick off a lot of these little ones in very quick succession, so they work as a delightful if sometimes unpleasantly democratic pre-party for the main attraction which is obviously the Frieze party, oligarch yacht hopping, Lady Gaga’s party (see No. 4), or preferably all three.

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“IN DEEP WITH THE QATARIS”

12 May

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THE MOST POWERFUL SCUMBAGS PEOPLE IN THE ART WORLD

Supposedly to tie in with the opening of the Frieze and Gap Art Fair in New York– but really apropos of nothing except “ooh, rich people”– somebody called Jason used their own drool (he also contributes to human-shaped joke Tyler Brulé’s Monocle. QED.) to write out a super-duper tip-top list of “the most powerful people in the art world” for The Guardian.

It’s the usual soul-crushing litany of scumbags, twats, con artists, plutocrats and fuckwits but the real enjoyment is to be found in the torrent of vituperation and scorn in the comments. Read them all because there’s some good stuff about the chasm between this tiny, elite art world and what most real artists do or want to do, and what the public wants from artists. Here’s a few of the best comments, complete with the typos from their authors (rightly) being so angry they couldn’t quite control their fingers:

“It’s literally about handjobs, 110% about who you know twixt how well you speak bullshit. For instance if you can write a side of A4 to place next to a sock on the floor, explaining it’s existential significance then you are ready for the big time.”

“And what all this has to do with art? Art is a form of expression, it has nothing to do with power. A true artist is a fee person who is looking for personal satisfaction before anything else. This people are businessmen, money-makers, looking for power and prestige.”

“This something of an art world. It is not the art world. It’s the kind of art world that many who don’t like or understand the practices of contemporary art wish into existence. Farago even seems to identify goodies and baddies. (He is only a journalist) There are many art worlds.”

“Recent academic research reveals a developing gap between the comic-book art world outlined above, and practitioners and audiences, ranging from disenchantment to alienation. A recent publication (Art Production Beyond the Art Market edited by Karen van den Berg & Ursula Pasero) outlines something of the fundamental changes in art production, artists’ strategies and in the interconnection of different fields of cultural practice. Much of it makes the group above look as relevant in 2014 as Stubbs or Kahnweiler or Peggy Guggenheim. The only thing that connects them is wealth…”

“Why does the Guardian grovel and dribble at the mouth over these people? Where’s the critique? Where are the big analytical articles highlighting the shameless collusion of our “top” artists and galleries with the whims and tastes of a detached, decadent global super-rich elite – people who have primarily made their fortunes in a brutally unequal economic system that condemns millions to misery? As a newspaper you have pursued politicians, corporations, policemen and exposed corruption and criminality, but when it comes to the art world you go all starry-eyed and are content to make fawning, adulatory lists. You should be ripping into these people, every single one of them.”

“We need another term for this. It has nothing to do with art, really, so why refer to it as the art world? It’s just a subset of the larger commodity investment field, not so very different than trading in pork belly futures or real estate. Let’s please leave the word art out of it.”

“Depressing that half the collectors on this list stole their money from their own people – or go out with someone that did.”

“A useful list, should the revolution ever actually happen.”

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HOW STUFF WORKS: THE ART WORLD

25 Feb

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I DOUBT SHE CAN EVEN SPELL “PHILANTHROPY”

25 Feb
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DERP. This is the closest Anita can get to the human expression known as “smile” when she’s wearing her rigid Anita flesh mask.

Hello darlings, mwah mwah mwah, thank you so much for coming– I thought you were still in Dubai for the arms fair! Art collector and spender of her husband’s dirty money Anita Zabludowicz (see Apotheosis of the idiot) has excelled herself recently with her Art Diary [sic] about a trip to India. Never has an art diary had so little to do with either art or diaries. Or a basic level of literacy, empathy and emotional fluency. Apparently it makes her sad that the poor people in India don’t smile. Cheer up, bastards. She needn’t get on her high horse, anyway. I’ve never seen a photo of her– and she has herself photographed constantly– where her face even seemed physiologically capable of smiling. She also says:

“The locals could not do enough for us, they only wanted to please us and this was their reward, I wish us Brits were more like that.”

Lovely little brown people, adorable! A bit dirty, though. I think you’ll find that they’d prefer their reward to be money and not having to live in servile destitution and desperate squalor, Anita. I’m pretty sure Gandhi is still available on DVD; I suggest you watch it. On behalf of every man, woman and child in all the nations of the United Kingdom, I also apologise wholeheartedly for us not being subservient or powerless enough for you, Big Z. Don’t worry, though, your husband’s cowering accomplices in the Conservative Party are making some progress towards rolling back all our hard-won freedoms and accomplishments. It’ll be just like India, not even India now but India a century ago! “I say, Lady Zabludowicz, frightful bad luck… was aiming for the tiger and one of your bally rickshaw-wallahs got in the way. Blasted his head right orff. Send my condolences to the widow, and so forth. Now, where’s that blasted tea?” Continue reading

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