International Paneling/October 2023
Image by Horster
What’s the Future for Casual Art Collections?
by Leo Kuelbs
Berlin
As the baby boomers age into retirement and beyond, one wonders what will happen to their art collections. About 10 years ago, I was at a party in Hudson, NY, and word got out that I was working, sometimes selling art objects. In a flash, a gal a bit older than me asked me if I could help her with her late father’s remaining works. He was of some repute, had a gallery and a bit of a market. But the studio barn that he left behind was apparently filled with hundreds and hundreds of other random works. Unorganized. Too many to release to a gallery—too many for them to handle—too many for the fledgling market and too many for the family to keep stored in the old barn. My advice was to inventory them, and then try to make plans on how to handle them with the gallery. If both of those things would work out, then maybe there was a chance to find some value. No museums were interested. Secretly, I was thinking that if it wasn’t so terrible for the environment, I would just consider burning most of them…
That may sound terrible, but what else is there to do with all of the random works created by baby boomers and their predecessors? I am a Gen-X who is sitting on a few hundred works myself, as well as a lot of video art. Where will this stuff go?
I was at a fundraising event for a junior ivy league college in Minnesota some years ago. One of the topics of discussion was the donation of art collections from the estates of former alma maters. I was surprised when the speaker said that even though a would-be donated collection hosts a few valuable works, that the school would refuse the gift if the terms were too onerous. Onerous, at the time, meant that the benefactor had included requirements that the whole collection had to be accepted, shown, cared for, stored, etc. It blew my mind in the early 2000s when I heard that. But soon enough, the reasons became very clear.
Space was becoming an issue. Some call it “real estate.”
In the early 2000s, we saw the expansion of museums all over the world. This happened, obviously, in part to handle the more contemporary parts of their ever-burgeoning collections. Also, museums often acquire much, much more than they show. So lots of new space was needed not only to handle an exponentially expanding collection, but also to improve an competition advantage for tourists and the entertainment-minded art-interested audience.
Space was becoming an issue. Some call it “real estate.”
What About Now?
Where will these collections go? One thing I have realized in the past few years is that art that isn’t loved is just more stuff. Dead and aging artists and collectors whose inventories aren’t worth mulch financially have some questions to face. Does anybody want this stuff? If not, where does it get stored and who is paying for this potentially endless storage? Back in the day, perhaps a foundation could have been set up. An endowment with an attached property or two. But the real estate market had changed so radically that even if you had that working decently, it may make more sense to liquidate the assets and drop it. The world has changed. The 20th century models aren’t built for the new times.
Recently, I have seen a ton of valuable vintage furniture on the market—really since the pandemic. No one can handle all of the leftovers of the lost. I mean, this shit is happening. I guess there may be some opportunities out there.
Brainstorming:
I have actually been thinking about this issue for about 25 years. Back in the early 2000s, I was even working on plans to be part of an art storage facility that could also display and license works. A 501C3 could be set up, and people could leave their collections to the organization for care, storage and possible display, sales, etc. You would need storage, display, living, and event space. Hopefully, all on a rail line somewhere.
Once I moved to NYC, I gave up further planning, due to high real estate and tax costs. It just became too expensive. I also realized that heirs of any donors might want a piece of any success, while not wanting a piece of any costs. In the end, for me, anyway, it just became impossible.
Yet, I can still see some value in the model. And now, with commercial real estate in a bad way, perhaps there is some hope. An urban version of my old model could be interesting, especially with the support of a concerned city, some new investors. In the past, for instance, I know some collectors/collections have tried to leverage the city of Berlin for better prices, leases, ownership of the spaces housing their collections. This did not fly a few years back. But perhaps now other cities are a little more hungry and have a little bit more office space to experiment with. I mean, it would not be the first time a city or developer used the arts to build value in its weak neighborhoods and/or real estate markets.
Video Shorty of the Month! Chris Herbeck’s “ghost bike”
The ancient artifact (circa 2009) was discovered some time ago in the archives of Leo Kuelbs Collection in NYC. Then Brooklyn-based, Chris Herbeck’s stop motion mini-masterpiece was shot during an art installation at a private residence in NYC, then also in the surrounding DUMBO neighborhood. Truly an entertaining archeological document of a time and place that have since transformed massively. These days, Herbeck calls New Orleans home and he continues to make work, mostly music as SeaBattle.
POETRY PLACE is where it’s at!
by Sanjana Nair
Virginia Beach
Butter, Toast, Tidal
It may have been the way his body sliced through the cold
Atlantic waves like they were just butter to toast. Fearless, eager.
The way he knew the waters of my own body, tidal as I am.
I can speak forever of things lost, of memory’s farce,
But I was. And, yes, love, of course I remember.
Middle Age: a Mixed Bag
by Adrian Pocobelli
Berlin
Image by Juliane Pieper
Having recently come out of a 5-year relationship at age 44, I’ve been reflecting a fair amount on what it all means. What do I want out of life, particularly on the romantic side—and why do I seem to care so little? Is it nihilism? Has an overdose of media consumption (YouTube Premium) eroded my capacity to feel? Do I just need to meet someone new?
One of the odd outcomes of the situation is how divorce lawyers started showing up in my YouTube feed. Weirdly enough I found them quite therapeutic, thinking to myself, “Imagine if we had gotten married?! Phew! Feeling much better about this.” Apparently YouTube viewership skews male for some reason, and based on the viewpoints of some of these videos, it makes you realize it’s a whole industry: How to rebuild your dating life in your forties and fifties. I imagine there’s something similar for women.
Interestingly, however, I don’t feel dejected and, in fact, remain quite inspired. I recently started uploading my YouTube channel to X/Twitter and the views have been surprisingly strong relative to the view count on YouTube and teh reaction has been fairly strong, so in some respects, from a professional point of view, life has never been better. As well, my art (the reason I started the channel) has begun to click in ways that I thought were beyond my grasp, so I have a lot to be thankful for, and I am.
Further, because my girlfriend and I never got married or lived together, there’s no messy divorce to deal with. All that’s left is the car crash of emotions and accompanying numbness that inevitably follows a long-term coupling that separates. So where does that leave things? Well, not too far from where Dante found himself at the beginning of the Inferno, I guess. In a dark wood, not sure where I’m heading.
And of course I could feel bad about being on my own, but I really don’t. As one divorce lawyer pointed out, “Just because people are still married, doesn’t mean they’re happy…”
And of course I could feel bad about being on my own, but I really don’t. As one divorce lawyer pointed out, “Just because people are still married, doesn’t mean they’re happy. Many people just stay together for the kids,” which seems like a pretty steep drawdown from the idealistic hopes of one’s marriage day, but there we are. It’s almost as if all of the hopes and dreams of marriage almost inevitably seem to be condemned to wishful thinking. “A happy marriage is like winning the lottery,” said one lawyer, and sadly I suspect he’s right.
So zooming out, I have no grand pronouncements, no wisdom to offer, but just a faith that a positive attitude is better than a negative attitude, and the very important dictum (which wildly overstates my case), “if you’re in hell, keep walking.” All things pass, sooner or later, so I think staying focused on the here and now, the better angels of our nature, reading, keeping a good physique, travelling and continuing to “pursue excellence” as one of the YouTubers put it, will eventually retire the numbness and lack of feeling.
You’ve been Patient Long Enough! It’s Time for 3 Questions with….the Great Kai Teichert!
Intro by Leo Kuelbs
What do you do with this guy? One of the true gems of Germany’s art scene, Kai Teichert’s work has appeared all over the world. His mastery of the human form and ability to communicate sublime levels of meaning and connection in nature make hum a truly special artist. He’s also not such a bad guy! His history and accomplishments are too many to cover here. So, let’s tap into his world here and see what Herr Teichert has to say!
The Questions:
1. Hello Kai! Can you tell us a little bit about where you are from and your background in the arts, as well as in medicine?
2. Your study of the human form and your depictions of nature (plants and animals) often reveal tensions and harmonies between the two. Can you tell us more about what, how and why you depict some of these amazing scenes?
3. So, can you let us know about some of your larger installations, as well as what you are looking forward to?
Jason Boyd Kinsella, Alan, 2022, oil on canvas, 125x200cm . Courtesy of The Artist and Unit London gallery.
Artist in Focus: Jason Boyd Kinsella
by Dirk Lehr
Berlin
Painting is often said to be old-fashioned because everything has already been told. It has also been described as boring because nothing new can follow.
Canadian artist Jason Boyd Kinsella proves that this discipline is anything but dead. His portraits oscillate between cubism and surrealism, construction and deconstruction. Its sculptural aspect is unmistakable. Kinsella collages faces from geometric shapes that would have delighted Picasso. Their perfection and flawless surfaces are extremely seductive to the viewer. On the one hand, the monochrome background reinforces the playful constructions and, on the other hand, has a calming effect, so that his “persons” don’t come across too loudly.
Kinsella thus creates a beneficial balance between dynamic accumulation and environment. His pictures benefit from this because they don’t appear gimmicky. His pictures are peculiar, even if one might think of Picasso or George Condo. Even if his portraits may amuse the viewer, the humor does not hostage the view of his work.
Despite its playfulness, there is something serious about it. On the one hand his portraits look like cartoon characters and on the other hand they are reminiscent of the aesthetics of old masters.
Despite its playfulness, there is something serious about it. On the one hand his portraits look like cartoon characters and on the other hand they are reminiscent of the aesthetics of old masters. The position and posture, the background, the colors or “accessories,” such as pearl necklaces or shirt collars and last but not least the perfection. Greetings from Van Eyck and Vermeer.
Kinsella has managed to develop its own artistic DNA. He blends Bauhaus and Baroque, Cubism and Surrealism, painting and sculpture. He not only continues the subject of the portrait, but expands it with new aspects. His works are not just another representational position among innumerable ones. They have a real unique selling point, which makes you optimistic that not everything has been told in painting yet.
Jason Boyd Kinsella, Philip, 2021, oil on canvas, 185x155cm. Courtesy of The Artist and Unit London gallery.
Kinsella listens to music while painting, as he shared via Instagram. He called on his followers to suggest titles to him. I suggested Billy Idol’s “Eyes Without a Face” to match his “heads.”
“Great Song” was his answer. I am curious if I can recognize the song in one of his upcoming works. Kinsella currently lives in Oslo, Norway.
Image by Juliane Pieper
Thai Pepper Regrets: Don’t Trust Online Reviews!
by Mark Bailey
Minneapolis
Autumn in Minneapolis is beautiful, with warm days and chilly nights. My girlfriend recently moved here and we've been trying new restaurants to see which ones we like. In the process, we discovered the worst Thai restaurant in the world. Its name is Thai Pepper.
The place had great online reviews. We tried to go one day and it was closed. When we found it open on another day, we got a table and were eager to try the cuisine. We ordered pork egg rolls. And this is where our problems began.
In hindsight, there were signs that should have warned us away from Thai Pepper. The place was located in a strip mall on the edge of the city near the suburbs. Inside, the tables were 90 percent vacant. The people running it were definitely not Thai. We ignored these signs, preferring instead to believe the stellar online reviews. This is a choice we came to regret.
When my girlfriend bit into an egg roll, she made a face, spitting out the bite. Inspecting the egg roll, she found it ice cold in the center, filled with pink bits of raw pork. It was hard not to gag when I saw it. We sent the egg rolls back but decided to at least try the entrees. I got pad thai, believing that I was playing it safe. This is another decision I came to regret.
The pad thai reminded me of something that happens on New York subways. There were times, riding crowded trains, when I would reach for a pole to keep my balance. Every so often, I would grab one of these poles only to discover that it was gross in a way that felt likely to make me sick…..
The pad thai reminded me of something that happens on New York subways. There were times, riding crowded trains, when I would reach for a pole to keep my balance. Every so often, I would grab one of these poles only to discover that it was gross in a way that felt likely to make me sick. Oftentimes, I would get sick.
By about bite three, I was feeling like my pad thai had been cooked in subway pole grease. It tasted seriously wrong. Although I was hungry, I decided that I wasn't hungry enough to get sick. I left the plate and explained the problem to the waitress.
After all of that, Thai Pepper still charged us for the entrees. I'm never going there again. It's disgusting. But there is an obvious lesson here. We shouldn't have believed the internet over our own direct observation of the restaurant's low quality.
The online world doesn't necessarily reflect offline reality. Good reviews can be bought. Media can be manipulated. The story on the ground can differ dramatically from internet portrayals of the story. This is true of restaurant reviews and of most other areas.
Bosnia - Art Adventures in a Dangerous Jewelbox
Site of a narrow escape from a pack of hungry dogs.
Images and text by Balazs Kulcsar
Brussels
Have you seen this advertisement in a travel magazine? "Come to Bosnia, where you can be easily killed by an armed separatist or mauled by abandoned angry dogs! Where there is no order, and no one guarantees your safety!" This is one typical view of Bosnia.
But let's see it from another side. In my experience, Bosnian people are extremely kind and welcoming. And the country is more than amazing. The “B” word (beautiful) can’t even come close to describing one’s surprise when admiring the waterfalls in National Park Una. But first you must get there.
In Croatia, there are many highways, yet none of them come close to our destination. I had to drive several hours on small roads until I arrived at a pavilion, which looked like an abandoned Twin Peaks set piece. I was “greeted” by an angry border control patrol, who asked about my plans in a way you could best be described as “Russian prison guard.” And it became worse when I mentioned that I'm a journalist. "Ha-ha," laughed the officer. "Journalist never comes to our country, so you must be a lame drug dealer.” In the next hour he tried to disassemble my one-year-old car. "How can you buy this expensive car? You don't look serious enough for that."
Maybe the best strategy is not to answer at all. I mean, Bill Gates looks like a tired librarian, not a billionaire. Finally, the officer focused his attention on the child seat. "Safety seat, ha-ha! I'm pretty sure you don't have a child." In the next moment he pulled it to pieces, and I see my 200 euro investment fly away, as I could never put back 20 small pieces of foam in the right order, into the right places. "I don't know who you are,” the officer continued, “but be very careful.” Welcome to Bosnia!
When I hit the road back on the other side of the border control, I immediately recognized the magic of the mountains. This is not the Swiss kitsch, no Milka cows—no postcard beauties. These are suffering mountains without grass and trees—cut by brutal erosion. But this allowed me to better focus on the road, as a 30-year-old Zastava (Yugoslav Fiat) passed me on the two lane road, while heavy traffic coming at me from the other direction. Basically, the drivers here are overtaking you everywhere, no matter whether it’s legal or if you already going double the speed limit.
KRAK Contemporary Art Center in Bihac, Bosnia.
But it's worth it to survive because I'm invited by Irfan Hošić, the Director of Krak Contemporary art center. But Krak might not be what might comes into your mind when thinking of an art center. This is not the Ludwig Museum in Cologne, nor the Bilbao Guggenheim entertaining center. This is a one-floor concrete, very old canteen. Its architectural value is basically zero. But it's even better in this way. Why do you want fancy spaces? You can truly concentrate on art in this space.
Fortunately, I ran into the one-and-only legend, Pierre Courtin. Pierre is a Frenchman who decided, while in college, to do a single year abroad. He decided on the exotic city of Sarajevo, where he started a gallery, Duplex 10 m2 (for more visual readers, see link below). In the end, he not only started a gallery, but he started the first for-profit gallery in Bosnia, and with this movement, he also introduced a more western way of art life there. Fortunately, he did it without reading any management book, so the goal was not to get rich, but to create a contemporary collection. And, of course, while he planned only one year, he ultimately spent fifteen, and is an inspiration for many artists and art lovers. So, the Krak exhibition is not only a summary of his collection, but also a goodbye-event for a friend who is finally heading back to France.
It's only 11:00 am, but the Krak team was already busy with the organization of the evening’s opening. The big party will include music, a DJ, performance art and more. A few artists are already there, too. Maybe the art center is more like a home for them. They were very interested in why I came here from 500 km away. They told me that more than 50% of the population is gone from the country. There is nothing here. No reason to stay--no work, no perspectives, nothing. "But you are here!" I replied. But it's only because of Krak art center, they told me.
While we chatted, I felt that they awee honestly interested in me, my motivations. And that vibe doesn't change when the director, Irfan Hošić, joined. He explained that they have to do everything in a different way. "We don't have money, no government funds, so nobody works from 8 am to 4 pm here. We are all fanatics about art, we live together, we do art together."
When I looked around, I noticed most of the artworks are about war. Weapons everywhere, dead bodies. This not only comes from a long violent history, but it's also the reality of now. Serbian people want to grab territories from the country, and no one guarantees anything. I only realize how deep this anxiety is this when I want to walk into the nearest shop. "Walking is not a good idea," I am told.
But after just ten meters three angry dogs decided they wanted to eat me. When I talked with them, it only got worse. I realized quick they were not dogs anymore, but…killing machines.
"Don't worry,” I explain, “I like walking, it's good for the health!” But after just ten meters three angry dogs decided they wanted to eat me. When I talked with them, it only got worse. I realized quick they were not dogs anymore, but surviving-killing machines. Finally, the Krak team saved me. “Was it a real danger?" I still ask. The answer is simple.
“Many people died, and nobody feeds their dogs, so usually they are hungry, devastated and hopeless".
How this could happen just 100 km away from the famous Croatian lidos, where the tourist hordes spend their summer? I thought of this when driving to Sarajevo, the old Austro-Hungarian center. After Pierre Courtin left Sarajevo, I presumed that the art scene had fallen back into anarchy. But Pierre explains it's more like a snowball. "Now they know that they can do a gallery without money. That you only have to believe in yourself. I'm really proud of them."
Manifesto, which is again not really a gallery but an art center with several supporting activities, is a great example of Sarajevo’s newly found DIY ethos. They occupied vacant spaces and set up exhibitions before they finally found a permanent space--which needed full renovation. So, they started a crowdfunding campaign, just as they do in Europe. And the magic just happened. No bureaucrats stamping papers in an office. Instead, the art collective members live among and within the art. They are not afraid to dirty their hands with whatever manual work needs to be done. Instead of talking and debating, this method of working--simply moving forward--is quite a good example for art people in a luckier world, as well. We will see what the future brings to Manifesto. But if its beginnings are any indication, we look forward to its bright and interesting future.
by #headacheeartlaboratory
The War Goes on in Ukraine…
by #headacheeartlaboratory
Kiev
Warning: Some images are pretty graphic.
by #headacheeartlaboratory
by #headacheeartlaboratory