Until just now. Having mindlessly fallen down a social media rabbit hole, I stumble upon a face I haven't seen in over 10 years. Out of boredom or a sense of nostalgic curiosity, I scroll through their photos and land on Melencolia I deep in the recesses of their feed. Funny, I think to myself, and decide to do something "productive". So I'm writing this blog post. And the really weird part is that I'm listening to the radio while I do it.
Wednesday, February 5, 2020
A Picture in a Picture in a Picture: Ted Barrow's Radio Parts
The other day at the radio, at the end of you were soothing and slender and the beginning of Montez Got Talent, we were sitting around waiting for the pizza to arrive and talking about the differences between boredom, tedium, ennui and melancholy (lol). Ted Barrow, an hour earlier, gave us Radio Parts and was sticking around for a slice and a few contentious rounds of guest judging on MGT. Ted's an art historian and a skater and his knowledge of these two subjects inform each other in a pretty fascinating way. He started talking about Durer's 1915 engraving Melencolia I. I pulled it up on my phone to look at the details, the winged woman with all her tools. The night moved on and I kind of forgot about it.
Until just now. Having mindlessly fallen down a social media rabbit hole, I stumble upon a face I haven't seen in over 10 years. Out of boredom or a sense of nostalgic curiosity, I scroll through their photos and land on Melencolia I deep in the recesses of their feed. Funny, I think to myself, and decide to do something "productive". So I'm writing this blog post. And the really weird part is that I'm listening to the radio while I do it.
Until just now. Having mindlessly fallen down a social media rabbit hole, I stumble upon a face I haven't seen in over 10 years. Out of boredom or a sense of nostalgic curiosity, I scroll through their photos and land on Melencolia I deep in the recesses of their feed. Funny, I think to myself, and decide to do something "productive". So I'm writing this blog post. And the really weird part is that I'm listening to the radio while I do it.
Monday, January 20, 2020
I Want to be Art
Strange and moving deep cut from Stefan Tcherepnin on a Dial Records comp. I too, want to be art. Stefan was on in September with Taketo Shimada as AFUMA with an acoustic version of this heavy, snake charmer grind they usually play: https://blankformseditions.bandcamp.com/album/songs-from-the-shore.
Stefan also put this out with an upcoming MPR guest:
Sunday, January 12, 2020
Image of the Queer Ways
Engraving by Agostino Aglio of the 1824 Ancient Mexico exhibition
The process of the exhumation of Coatlicue Mayor, according to Octavio Paz, "(unfolds) a reflective process of European consciousness onto the civilizations of America like Coatlicue Mayor." He claims, "the difference was radical, a genuine otherness."
Ann de León rightly points out that the 19th-century European aesthetics “favored mimetic representation of the human body in art with correct proportion.”
Assumptions of Nanhua's incapacity for mimetic representation was regarded as barbaric in Eurocentric expectation. However, Coatlicue is not a mother, nor a beheaded woman like in the straightforward feminine rendering, but a grand creatrix.
Ann de León even asks why “she” should need to have a human head at all? Or, as Zairong Xiang writes in Ancient Queer Ways the Nanhua civilization simply "cannot be bothered with validation from colonial/modern knowledge but continuously opens to dimensions that remain closed to us."
Monday, January 6, 2020
Keenan Jay's Oral Histories: Liz Koury on International With Monument
Last February, Keenan Jay conducted an interview with Liz Koury, the first in what has become an ongoing series of conversations with gallerists and curators from NYC's recent history. Liz was kind enough to open up to us about International With Monument and her role in the 80s art scene in a way that publicly she never had before and her sense of conviction and commitment to community and the emerging artist was so inspiring to us. MPR hopes to serve as a type of salve to the increasing sense of isolation that Liz Koury laments here, and which has only been amplified this past year. Our contributions to NYC's arts community derive directly from the lineage and tradition that artists, curators and facilitators like Liz have established for us.
Enjoy reading Keenan's interview with Liz below. And check out some of his other conversations with curators like Wendy Olsoff and Penny Pilkington, Mitchell Algus, and .
Keenan Jay Interviews Liz Koury (with Thomas Laprade)
February 22nd, 2019
Thomas Laprade: Here we are with Liz Koury, this is her
first time talking about her history with International With Monument publicly,
at least in this way.
Liz Koury: Thank you.
TL: Keenan do you want to introduce International With
Monument and Liz?
Keenan Jay: Sure. I mean I guess we’re gonna get into that
history, but Liz is one of the former proprietors of International With
Monument, a very important gallery of the 80s. We’re here with Kai Matsumiya as
well, the current proprietor of Kai Matsumiya. Liz brought a bunch of archival
material that we're gonna look over and discuss, I guess we don’t really need to
do a chronological account, however you’d like to do it, but we’re gonna go
through the history of this really important and formative moment in
contemporary art that was lesser acknowledged until recently.
LK: Thank you. As you and Tom introduced, I certainly have
been invited to dip into the archives and present material, but I just have not
felt that the time was correct. I think these days with what’s happening in the
art world a lot can be learned from the history, the experience and looking
back to some of what was happening at that time which I don’t see happening
now. Basically, conversations like this, or conversations in other forms that
really need to happen. Artists were opening galleries themselves, artists were
writing, artists were interviewing one another, artists were on panels
together. It was much more of a community of thoughts and ideas that whether
they agreed or disagreed, people had to advocate a lot harder for themselves
and the conviction and the commitment were much more palpable. I feel that it’s
important to look back at a lot of this material, not even for the type of work
that was being presented but just the conviction that was felt.
TL: Maybe we can start with some context, so time and place.
Give us what was happening just before International With Monument started.
LK: Well the three of us were art students at Parsons. What
was happening in the art world, you had galleries uptown, upper east side, you
had 57th st., you had Soho. Mary Boone was really the dealer of the
moment, certainly Leo Castelli and Sonnabend were there, but Mary Boone was
exploding with Julian Schnabel, David Salle, Ross Bleckner, and we didn’t feel
that our work as artists would fit into that context or that framework. Two
friends of ours from Parsons had started a gallery in the East Village called
Nature Morte, Peter Nagy was an artist and one of the proprietors, Steve
Parrino was an artist there just starting out, Joel Otterson, Gretchen Bender…
A lot of very important artists were starting and they were a year ahead of us
and we very naively thought “oh, let’s not go into our studios and be isolated,
let’s open a gallery”. The three of us actually had a prior performance space
in one of my friend’s lofts and we then decided let’s look for a gallery space
in the East Village. We were most relatable to Nature Morte, with their
aesthetic and our community of friends.
KJ: Do you remember the time and place when you three
decided that you were going to embark on this?
LK: Yes, we were sitting in Tompkins Square Park and we
wrote up—I didn’t bring it—but it is a very funny agreement, partnership
agreement, that was outrageous. And I have it in my archives and I was gonna
bring it and read it but I thought it’s too long. But yes, the three of us were
sitting there and thought “let’s do this”. Kent and I were more together on the
vision of the gallery, Meyer was more aggressive with his vision of being an
artist within the gallery and we had to kind of limit that because we wanted it
to really create the community, not promote any one of us particularly, but
that changed a little over time. But I have the manifesto, our first press
release from International With Monument.
KJ: Yeah do you mind reading it for us?
LK: It’s quite idealistic and I think it’s good because I
think every dealer, every artist probably feels this idealism of what they set
out to do, even though that can change.
“International With Monument, established 1983. In today’s
extremely pluralistic art scene, it is the purpose of International With
Monument to promote art which while highly diverse and exciting meets carefully
defined standards of quality, aesthetics, and conception. Just as the
geographical term International With Monument denotes certain boundaries on an
atlas, our gallery seeks to reestablish boundaries for art that have been
rejected due to current cultural and societal trends. International With
Monument’s goal is to show the work of artists who demonstrate a clarity of
purpose and thought rarely seen in the ever widening circle of the New York art
scene. To this purpose, the specific concerns of history, media and
conceptualization are immediately apparent in any overview of our shows. As
Robert Smithson said, ‘nothing is new, neither is anything old’. With this in
mind, International With Monument has been particularly interested in work that
demonstrates historical concerns, whether through direct appropriation or
physical technique. At the same time, it is impossible to produce work in these
times that does not show the pervasive influence of the media, an influence we
believe important to explore and debate. Thus much of the art we exhibit is
concerned with media images, fashion, advertising, language, reproduction,
computer generated images, photography and cultural symbols. Lastly, our
artists all show an awareness of our hyper-real culture. Each one’s work lies
within a conceptual framework that establishes thought and meaning on a par
with the image itself. The work we show all share a certain arresting coolness.
Although it can sometimes be psychological, it shares with cultural the icons
and monuments a kind of distancing effect that allows the artists to reassess
and comment upon the times. These works are the new monument, and International
With Monument is pleased to help their artists gain recognition.”
KJ: That last line is so important.
LK: And that think that’s the goal of any emerging dealer,
and artist. To help gain recognition for their work and to be respected for it.
KJ: I just love the conviction, it’s so lacking today, in
contemporary art in general.
LK: I think looking through a lot of the archives you
realize—Richard Prince interviewed by Peter Halley, Peter Halley curating shows
at John Weber gallery. There’s a panel at Pat Hearn gallery in 1986 and the
moderator was Peter Nagy from Nature Morte. The participants were Sherrie
Levine, Peter Halley, Ashley Bickerton, Philip Taaffe, and Haim Steinbach. All
debating what was important in the time and what their work was about. We
received a lot of great press from Art in America, Flash Art, The New York
Times, certainly the Village Voice. We invited curators who had been gallery
owners. We wanted the historical people to come in and debate with us and we
wanted the emerging people to come and debate as well. So it was a very active
time of debate.
TL: Was there sort of a model of artist-run spaces or
community that had come before you that you guys had been looking to or drew
inspiration from?
LK: No, it was all organic. Because we were fresh out of art
school, we were 23 years old, we had no experience even working for galleries.
Which in hindsight I think was a good thing because even though we lacked in
business acumen we probably would have been turned off by a lot things that
happen in more established galleries. It just would have probably tamped down
the spirit a bit.
KJ: But in a way you guys established a different model.
LK: I think so. There were a few artist-run galleries, and
again it was to find community as artists, not to dictate anything but just
find our own community and not feel isolated in the studio. I think that
certain gallerists of the time in the East Village, we didn’t relate to, it was
more of the expressionist type of work that was being made. Even gallerists who
were not artists were becoming advocates for these artists we were relating to.
But…just came at it from a different point of view. For example, I’ve had
three galleries total. Even at my last gallery artists would say we appreciate
you were an artist or that you are an artist, understanding what it takes to
make a piece of art. And I think that’s what set us apart as well. We
understood, I think that’s how we had good eyes to detect art, we were artists
ourselves in understanding what it is you are looking for when you are making
your own work. And the depth, not just the look of it but the content.
KJ: Can we talk briefly about your own practice as an artist
and what you were interested in? What you were reading or looking at at that
time… Because I also saw you were included in an Artists Space show.
LK: I was included in a few shows. When I was in art school
I started out traditionally. And then as I was encouraged by this one teacher
who actually showed at John Weber gallery, to just take it to the limit. So I
started doing performance art and started blowing up photographs very large and
started engaging the audience. So I guess my interest was in performance. In my
last year of school I was actually told that I would not graduate, that I
should have been in film school. And I had to quickly had to figure out in
about two months time how to graduate. At that point Kent and Meyer and I
decided “let’s open a gallery”. So I had to figure out how to pull it together,
do work unfortunately that would pass the grade and then once we opened our
gallery the funny thing was all of the teachers who had tried to fail me came
to the gallery and wanted to show with us. (Laughs)
TL: And you said “No way!”
LK: Exactly!
There was so much passion to what we were doing and trying
to accomplish. So my work was really coming out of photography and performance,
and trying to put the two together to comment on the culture. One of my
favorite books was Kathy Acker’s…
KJ: …"Blood and Guts in Highschool"?
LK: No, another—“Just Another Asshole”. I loved that.. And
Robert Smithson was important to me because of his ideas of entropy. Now
knowing Robert Hobbs who is a very close friend, his show at the Whitney Museum
while I was a student was very powerful to me. Just seeing this work from the
outside inside, and challenging all of these notions about what art is or was.
That influenced me very much. So I wanted it to be interactive and shaken up a
lot, and not just come out of—I was trying to figure out where I could place
myself, and what kind of art I could make, and it was all messy and figuring it
out… That’s why meeting these artists who were really out there and hadn’t
found a gallery, it was wonderful to have the gallery to attract them to come
in and have conversations, and just all do it in a similar time.
TL: Can you tell us about some of the most memorable shows
that you put on? Maybe tell us most memorable shows for you and then maybe give
us some that garnered the most public response.
LK: Well I feel that each show that we put on was important
because it was work that had never really been seen before. For example, Peter
Halley, his work with the day-glow colors in painting that were electrifying
when you walked into the gallery. Jeff Koons’s show with the basketballs and
the tanks were not like anything anyone had ever seen. Richard Prince’s very
cool images of gangs with the biker chicks. Each one-- and even certainly Sarah
Charlesworth who had a history, but her work spoke to us. I can’t say that
there was any one show that was my favorite. I loved each of them because each
one was unlike anything anyone had ever seen before and they were making work
for the time, for the moment. All of our artists were ten years older than us
so they had some sort of history of making work and showing but they weren’t
represented at that time. Once we represented them the works were certainly
being made for our shows, but it still continued on a path of being
unbelievably unique and unrecognized as such. I think what garnered a lot of
attention, certainly through the press, through collectors coming through,
Charles Saatchi came through and gave a lot of attention. There were certain
key people who were becoming collectors of the gallery, that had a voice inside
of the gallery and a voice within their own communities that brought a lot of
attention. We did receive a tremendous amount of press. There were also these
new things called art advisors. They weren’t new but they were extremely
aggressive. It kind of blew up in certain ways, it was not healthy for the
gallery or the artists. It’s much like where the media can take over and take
away from the actual spirit of the work. So there was both positive and
negative attention on the gallery, and yet we just really looked to the art and
the artists. That’s the core, that’s why we’re all here, this is the most
important element, let’s not lose sight of what it is you’re making. And
continued to look at artists. I think that as artist are recognized by more
successful galleries and the galleries want to engage with these artists and
perhaps take them into their stables-- that was happening, they were being
offered stipends, we couldn’t offer that. We continued then to look outside of
our circle and go to other communities. I went to Germany, I found very
interesting artists that had not been shown in the states. So I think the
lesson was to keep moving forward, and not think that all is lost and that it’s
dire if it changes. It has to change, it has to keep moving forward.
TL: Yeah, I’m interested in that process of finding the
artists. I know the community was tight knit and I’m sure a lot of it happened
that way, but you were also traveling to Germany. How did work then? Could you
cold call someone? Could you just cold call Jeff Koons and say, “hey can I do a
studio visit?”
LK: No, Jeff Koons came in through Peter Halley. Peter
Halley had curated a show for John Weber called “Science Fiction” in the early
80s and he had included Koons and Prince and other artists in the show. So, we
met a lot of the artists through Peter Halley. Peter Halley was the only artist
who came in through slides that we actually liked, and we followed up with him
through his slides and he introduced us to many artists.
TL: He just walked in with slides?
LK: With slides.
TL: Wow. Can’t do that anymore! (laughs)
LK: He had a show in a restaurant on ave. A of small works
and we went to look at them and we loved them. Then we followed up with a
studio visit and we immediately said we want to show your work, we want to
represent you. So it went from there. But we realized with Peter, he was such
an important writer as well, the theories behind his work, and that also had to
become part of the conversation when people would come in and look at the work.
They had the visceral response when looking at the work, but it was important
for them to understand the social impact that he was considering with his work.
KJ: And the medium for that was the press release? Or just
through conversation? Or how did you…
LK: No, we had his articles that we would have available in
the gallery. And when people would want to write reviews of the shows we would
also inform them of those and they would reference those articles. And Peter
was curating shows and writing, and publishing his writing. Alan Jones was a
writer at the time who we collaborated with. Many methods of getting
information that I unfortunately feel is lacking at this point. And I think
that those conversations that can happen—you’re doing it with Montez Press, so
thank you—I think that the conversation needs to appear in different forms at
this time, because it is lost.
TL: A ‘like’ on Instagram isn’t enough, (laughs) that’s not
discourse.
LK: I don’t think so, it’s too fast! I think it’s too fast
and its dismissed very quickly. And art fairs are dismissed very quickly. It’s
a quick swipe of the hand and people don’t stop and really consider what it is
they’re looking at. And if it’s not available or someone’s not advocating that
information for the artist or for the gallery it’s lost quickly. I know Kai is
someone I respect greatly because he advocates for his artists and for his
gallery in a way that is accessible, and I think, very important.
TL: Yeah, I think a lot about why the discourse is the way
it is right now. Or seemingly non-existent relative to what I have heard it was
like in the past. I just went and saw the Colin de Land-Pat Hearn show at Bard
and I remember reading this sort of myth of how Colin de Land was just always sitting
in the back of his gallery and you can just walk in there and talk to him and
he was so ready to talk to you for hours. I remember there was a description of
Peter Fend just walking in with a bunch of maps and they talked for a while and
then Peter Fend had a show there. There’s something I think about, the
saturation of artists right now, and the competitive nature that arises out of
that compounded with the economics of New York right now that makes it really
difficult to want to have conversation with someone. I think when everyone is
vying for the few slots available to actually make it as an artist, to have
your job to be an artist and not have a day job, I think naturally there’s a
competition that arises out of that. And I think naturally out of that the
sense of community falls away. I don’t know, have you noticed that sort of
change over the years?
LK: Well looking back, all of these artists, we all had
other jobs first. It might not have been in galleries, but everybody had to
survive somehow.
TL: But was it competitive?
LK: It was very competitive and very political still, but
the numbers weren’t as big as they are now in terms of galleries, in terms of
venues, in terms of collectors, in terms of artists. So oddly enough it was
cheaper, but now there seems to just be more. It is harder to financially
sustain a business, certainly. I think people are finding ways of doing that
lose the integrity of what it is that they’re showing.
TL: Well ok, maybe this is a good opportunity to back up a little
bit. You said that you started this with no business acumen, but obviously at
some point you started to have collectors coming in, you had Saatchi come in.
At what point did that click happen where you were starting to sell work and…
LK: It was about two years. Well maybe a year and a half we
didn’t sell anything. And prices were very low, they were $1,500 for a
basketball tank or for a Peter Halley painting.
TL: Ah, missed out. (laughs)
LK: I know, now a lot more. I think it was with people like Saatchi
coming in—Saatchi was funny because you had to be on your toes. Even if you
didn’t have business experience you had to really have some strong
characteristics. So, Saatchi I remember coming in and wanting to buy Sarah
Charlesworth work that was in her show. And he said, “which pieces have sold?”
And I said, “these pieces.” And he said, “those are the ones I want.” And I
said, “No, I’m not going to the artist and undoing the sales.” “You have to.”
And I said, “I’m not doing it.” We were tough I guess, even though we didn’t
have the business experience we had a lot of pride and conviction. Even when
the artists started leaving for galleries and people thought well you should go
work for one of the big galleries now, you shouldn’t continue your gallery. And
I said “no, I have a lot of pride. I’m not going in that path, I’m gonna
continue…” I felt that I was just being a loyal and committed person, I thought
I started this and I’m going to continue it. I want to be a place that helps to
launch other artists, it was the most exciting area for me even though it was
financially a struggle at that time. Even though everything was less expensive
it was still a struggle to figure out how to continue to attract people who
would buy work. You know, I have to say, a lot of the people that I know now
are from that time. I think those relationships become very important and I
would say that for any dealer or artist now, strengthen those relationships and
they will last.
KJ: It seems like your heart has always been for emerging
artists…
LK: I think it’s most exciting!
KJ: Why is that? Or what’s the biggest reward for you? Why
do you stick around emerging when it’s so punishing, you know?
LK: Exactly! It is punishing. Being an artist myself I think
it is the spark. It’s like seeing a drawing of an artist that is the seed of an
idea or the seed of work to come. It’s the type of support that is necessary
when an artist is stating out, it’s so critical. And to be able to offer that,
to see something in an artist’s work and say, “I want to help you and find--
even if I can’t do something myself-- find people who will help you”. It just
offers the boost at a time when an artist needs it the most. It kind of offends
me when collectors that I’ll bump into at very established galleries will say,
“well, I prefer to pay this amount for work of this artist now rather than when
I see it in an emerging gallery”. And I think that’s supporting a gallery at
that stage, it’s not really supporting an artist when they need it the most. I was
fortunate to be given the support at a young age and young point to do what I
wanted to do and help support people, and I want to give that back. I just feel
that it is very rewarding. As a matter of fact, Charles Long just showed at
Tanya Bonakdar and he asked if I had seen his show and I said I’m going down to
see it. And when I saw it he said now the show is complete and he wrote on my
Instagram, “to those of you who don’t know Liz Koury, she saw something in my
work thirty years ago and she has helped—that support has carried me through
all of these years”. And that is more rewarding to me than any amount of money
paid for a piece of art.
KJ: That’s beautiful.
LK: The support comes back to me, the reward comes back to
me, in a very real and honest way. That’s my community.
KJ: You started representing Charles Long at Koury Windgate?
LK: No, it was at my third gallery, Elizabeth Koury. He was
out of Yale. His friends actually, Sean Lander, Kevin Landers, Richard
Phillips, they actually came and helped build the gallery. They were
contractors, subtractors, builders, and we did the gallery together. Lisa
Yuskavitch was one of the artists, and then certainly it expanded and we showed
Nicole Eisenman and many, many other artists. Again, seeing something in an
artist and really wanting to be supportive at a time when they need it the
most.
TL: In addition to fostering young artists, I hear you are
also responsible for a small art fair. Can you tell us about that?
LK: Yes, I was invited to participate in an art fair in
Amsterdam that was in a hotel, I believe it was called “80 Views”, I’m sure the
name is not correct but it was interesting and it taught me a lot about setting
up in this room, sleeping in the room, having people come through this fair. When
I came back to New York, Paul Morris, and Pat Hearn, and Matthew Marks and
Colin de Land said they were going to put together this fair, would I help
them, would I go in on it with them. So I did, I became the manager for the
Grammercy Art Fair, and it was very exciting and very stressful. We kind of
used the model of that fair I had been involved in to manage it. It was three
floors of the hotel, we had entertainment booked, everybody was fighting about
what room they wanted and what room they got. I remember having a lot of fights
with people but it was also a really different time. We had all participated in
the Clone Art Fair, we had participated in other art fairs, in Chicago. There
were annual fairs but this was unique because it was the first time in hotel
rooms. It was exciting, the amount of people that came through that was—I think
everybody who went through that has a strong and favorable memory of that.
TL: The picture of it look crazy, it looked like it was so
much fun!
LK: It was fun!
TL: Art all over the walls of this hotel…
KJ: In the bathtub.
TL: In the bathtub! The hotel furniture is all upside down,
propped up on the wall, it looked insane!
LK: Yes! One room—I don’t know if I should mention the
dealer—they had hookahs set up and they were smoking hash! So it was anything,
anything goes from the most formal presentation to just come and hang out. It
was a lot of the spirit and energy that I feel here, that I felt last night
when I was here. That comradery and sense of being a community.
TL: But I understand that art fair snowballed into the
Armory?
LK: Yes, it did.
TL: How’d that happen?
LK: Paul Morris took on that fair, managing it, and I guess
it was then purchased by a group and became big business. It left the hotel and
went to the piers. I think it had other iterations in other cities, but I was
only involved for two years so I lost track.
TL: Yeah it’s funny because when you think about the Armory
that’s like the quintessential dry, soul-sucking art fair. But to think that it
came from this crazy experimental thing you guys did in a hotel.
LK: I know! And also there have been other hotel fairs
that—I think people are constantly trying to come up with ways of affording a
new venue to present art. And when it can be the emerging galleries, I think
it’s the most exciting. I think these days when a lot of these art fairs that
are supposedly alternative include the more established galleries, I don’t
think it’s the same conversation. I think it loses a lot because that’s not
really the intent, the intent is to make it affordable as a venue for younger
galleries. So it’s a different conversation.
TL: Keenan and I have this friend who had this interesting
project for a while where he had a curatorial project and every show he did he
would do in storage spaces around New York. It was sort of a response to the
fact that you can’t afford real estate here. But I remember this one time we
were in this storage space, it was at the same time as Frieze I think that he
did this show, someone was walking around and was like, “whoa, you can rent out
every storage unit on this floor and you could do an art fair here”.
LK: I actually did that!
TL: You did?! (laughs)
LK: Not every space but Crozier has great viewing spaces so
a couple of years I rented some space and had works shown and invited
collectors and invited curators and it was quite an interesting conversation.
That’s when I started to realize the conversations people were hungry for, to
sit down quietly in a gallery or in a room, in and exhibition space and really
talk about the work again. But I think that’s great your friend did that. And
it’s good to that at a time like Frieze when you know a lot of people are in
town and you can corral them.
TL: Yeah, he should start doing that project again.
LK: He should really do it! Even the garages in New York,
there are all these empty garages all over town that you could do these pop
ups.
TL: Well, those turned into Chelsea at some point. (Laughs)
LK: Yes, (laughs) it did. Now it’s finding other inexpensive
locations.
TL: There are all kinds of alternative models popping up for
emerging galleries to circumvent the costs. Is there anything like that that
you’ve seen that might be worth something?
LK: The pop ups are good but I think there has to be the
intention with the dealers and with the artists to really have a different
sense of community and strengthen the ties around rather than just feel that
everybody’s this isolated—it’s like being isolated in your studio all over
again. Really reach out to more people you feel you relate to, and have
different venues communicate and come together and strengthen one another. Just
as we’re going through this press (indicates I.W.M. press on table) and seeing
that people of all walks of life were participating. I think that is important
now, the critics now want to be celebrities in their own right and not talk
about the work, and talk about how they got there, and what works they showed,
and what works they’ve supported over the years but not talk about the work
that’s happening now. So I think there are these other venues, but I think
reaching more people or having more people who have a common view come together
more often and strengthen that conviction that everybody wants to start out having
and working with, but to continue it and not have it be so quickly dissolved.
Pop ups, they’re too quick! So figure out how to do it over a longer period of
time. I don’t think there’s any one answer, but I do think that the
conversations and working together has to come back rather than everybody just
going off into their own corners. Maybe that’s because social media contributes
to that, where it’s all private.
KJ: Do you think that it’s really important to be doing this
New York? Or is this kind of conviction something that can happen on the
periphery somewhere?
LK: I think other cities have the advantages of less
expensive space certainly but a lot of times they just become a second city to
New York or Los Angeles or wherever art is being most promoted. I think in some
ways, and it’s always been this way, where outside of New York people can show
whatever is being show in New York and there’s no competition for that, but I
do think that Los Angeles is a little different in the sense that there is a very
strong art community, so I think those conversations and conviction happens. It
would be nice to see that each place outside of New York has its own identity
and its own strength.
KJ: We were talking about this the other day actually, that
Los Angeles has largely lost that recently, or it’s seems like it has at least
in my opinion. That the weirdness of Los Angeles isn’t really there anymore.
LK: And all the big galleries move there and want to have a
second space there, but I think there still is an emerging community and I
think maybe with space it has to come together a little more. I was going out—I
love LA and I love what it has to offer—but I think there still are inexpensive
spaces to be had and people can certainly do what they want to do, but there is
still looming the larger framework, that it does take presence in the media,
certainly that grabs the attention of the collectors and the institutions more
than the younger galleries. I mean, unfortunately people want to see that work
reaches a certain level before they want to engage with it. That’s always
happened but I think figuring out how to, again, connect with people who have
the experience, who have the expertise, draw them in, don’t just be your own
generation but draw in people who have that experience and could connect you
and help. I think Kai is unique in that way, he appreciates the exchange of
experience and ideas. Other emerging galleries may be a little afraid of that,
they want to do their own thing, they don’t want anyone to change the dynamic
of what’s going on in their space. But to engage someone with experience I
think is a good idea.
TL: Multi-generational dancing gives me more hope than
anything. (laughs)
LK: That’s right!
TL: I was in Mexico recently and noticed there was a lot of
multi-generational dancing when I went out and I was like, I don’t see this in
America enough. (laughs)
LK: (Laughs) And it’s not just showing artists at your
gallery that are different generations but bringing people in to work with you,
to help even organize your archives or organize your storage or whatever, just
get some ideas that they’ve gone through. Learn about different types of—I mean
we didn’t have business experience. We did appreciate what we learned every
single day, and we did ask older people, “how do you do this?” “What do you
do?” It certainly has to be people you can trust but there’s a wealth of
information and experience that could be used and valued.
KJ: Was there anyone who you could cite as being a mentor in
your career as a gallerist?
LK: I think that there were certain older gallerists. I also
was so pleased that Walter Hopps was a strong presence at our gallery. He came
through because of Howard Halle, who’s TimeOut. He was a mentor, and certainly
with his Ferus gallery was such an important figure. He took some of our
artists and curated show out on the west coast with them. He was always someone
you could talk to, the storytelling was unbelievable. I would say that we
just—there were certain people that you had to trust because everything was
moving quickly at a certain point and everybody wanted a different—everyone has
an agenda and it was hard to find the point of conversation that you could
really use the information and trust it rather than think, “oh this is about
this” or “this person wants this”. That starts to happen as well and it’s tough
to discern. But again, certain people can help you with that.
TL: So we have this really amazing pile of material from the
archive here, I kind of want to go through some of this. This one on top is
pretty cool. We were just talking about Richard Prince’s joke paintings in the
last segment.
LK: Oh, were you?
TL: Yeah, we had Vanessa Place on, and she just wrote this
book on rape jokes, I don’t know if you’ve heard of this. But anyways we were
talking about Richard Prince’s joke paintings and I have in front of me an
article written by Gary Indiana on Richard Prince, on a show he did in 85 at
International With Monument. And it looks like it’s the New Yorker cartoons
that led to the big joke paintings, right?
LK: Yes.
TL: “…Genuine imitation art…”
LK: I highlighted certain parts of these reviews for
different reasons, some to show who had been around at the time writing about
these artists. Roberta Smith is in this article, Gary Indiana certainly, Art in
America was a strong magazine that wrote about shows in a critical way.
Richard Prince was someone who had certainly appropriated
the images but his message-- and I think even that piece talks about how he
wanted everything to appear normal in the work. So he could be taking images
from the culture that maybe were hyper-images, or hyper-real, or symbols, or
icons. But bringing them into his work and having you just luxuriate in the
image, and having it become another…
TL: Well there’s something uncanny in that normalness, I see
that you’ve highlighted this little bit here it says, “Prince’s work is a
reinvention of surrealism, uncorrupted and thoroughly modern surrealism in
which every picture tells more than it’s supposed to”. It goes on but I really
liked that little bit.
LK: We had also been fortunate to see-- Richard Prince had
rented a store front and he had his now infamous Spiritual America
photograph of Brook Shields in the gallery and we were shocked when we walked
in because this light was on the photograph and the rest of the gallery was
bare. It was like a performance, this moment of seeing something you had never
seen before. Finding work like that that could maybe be recognizable but take
you into another place in your mind, it was up to your imagination at that
point. It was a new experience. And I think that’s what the work of Jeff Koons,
with his different surfaces and textures, the mirrored bunny, the mirrored
train cars. Even with Jeff he would have the social inequalities apparent in
the presentation of the show where the stainless steel bucket would be on the
floor by the door whereas the train or the little liquor caddy would be
presented high on a pedestal, so there were different levels of society presented
in a way was more subliminal. Unless you really looked or someone pointed it
out to you you might not notice it. But with Richard as well it was these
images that we could recognized from other parts of our culture, but they were
elevated to a point where it was new and very attractive and very seductive.
TL: Well that Spiritual America, that Brook Shields
piece is maybe a great example. I love the story behind him showing that, I
guess he went to Metro Pictures with it first and they were like “hell no,
you’re not showing a young naked Brook Shields here”. Also, the story of how he
acquired this piece, he found a journalist who like met him on the corner with
a briefcase and it was this secretive thing that everyone had read about in the
papers but nobody had seen it. And then he showed it in a space…
LK: In a store front gallery. Which is where we saw it.
TL: Yeah and the first people who showed up to it, you
couldn’t actually get close to it so there was still something left to the
imagination. But maybe a testament to something you can do outside of the
confines of, say, Metro Pictures.
LK: That’s right. And that why I say the artists had such
conviction they were gonna show it somehow in some way. They had a vision, and
I think what we’re talking about now with conviction—a lot of places lack
vision, and I think a lot of artists maybe also lack a vision and conviction. I
think that if you really have something-- that they feel they have to also make
the work and show it right away. Something that I learned from Richard Prince
that was very interesting and informative was he would make the work and maybe
put it away for a year or two and then show it. Because he had to really,
whether by circumstance or by nature, he wanted to digest the work and see what
it was about before putting it out in the world. I think that that was
something that was also unique, you weren’t just painting and then sticking it
up on the wall. The giving of time.
TL: There’s an imperative to keep up with the cycle of showing
right now.
LK: Yes!
TL: And I think that may be an effect of the
commercialization of art. I think the speed is something we need to deal with.
LK: We may need to slow it down. Figure it out.
TL: Slow it down I think.
Alright, can you take us out on a hopeful note?
LK: (Laughs) Oh. How much time do we have?
TL: (Laughs) 10 minutes? Ok. So in the last couple of years
in New York there’s been a lot of small galleries closed down and it seems like
it’s harder and harder. And it’s not just small galleries, it’s the middle tier
that has really taken a hit. Seems like you can be a fun artist-run space with
your friends for a while until it grows into a commercial gallery. You hit this
middle tier where maybe for a collector it’s fun to buy cheap young art or
maybe they want to buy something more established. In the middle I think it’s
not really working anymore, and I think it’s really discouraging for young
galleries. What do you think about that model and do you see an alternative to
that? And then maybe, the other question I really want to ask is what young
galleries are you looking at that you’re into? (Laughs)
LK: I think that it is very upsetting that a lot of
galleries that have such promise have to close, it’s very upsetting. I think a
lot of times it’s due to the financial constraints. I don’t have any magic
words of advice other than reach out to people that you do respect and try to
get some of their expertise to help you—I’m sure there are things that could be
done in terms of your business, not to be so proud that you won’t accept some
advice or direction. I think that there may be ways of financially stabilizing
certain parts of the business. If there’s conflicts with personalities, with
partners that’s different. It becomes very individual. With our gallery there
was definitely conflict within the partnership, and that led to part of the
demise. But yes, I hear it from collectors too. There are these flippers who
want to buy cheap art and they want the work to appreciate. Then there are collectors
that have been collecting for many years and they are very discerning about
what they’ll buy now. Under a certain thousands-of-dollars they’re eager and
they’re in but once they get up to, as you say, the mid-level it, it becomes
more of a concern. I find that the larger galleries are looking maybe to the
mid-level, they’re not looking to the emerging. They’re looking to the
mid-level to see who maybe was overlooked and maybe they’ll bring them up to
that level. I find it disappointing that larger galleries maybe don’t work more
together with some of the smaller galleries, to even have a second gallery
where they can help promote some of the emerging artists and work with the
emerging galleries to do that and work together. That maybe is too idealistic
but I think that trying-- just having conversations with people, having ideas
occur to you, just try to get it out there and seek advice and see if anybody
is interested because you really— Kai is a gallery I respect very much because
he goes to task for his artists and for his gallery and he is trying with
conviction in the most sincere and honest and kind way that is very respectful.
And I think he’s someone who really is doing it in the right way. Other
galleries that I’ve worked with that are younger, emerging galleries I find
that you get to a certain point they really want to take it themselves and not
really… maybe share? Or share information? And I think that’s kind of a pity
because I think it’s a short-sighted vision. Having a longer-term vision, there
are many ways to work things out and be resourceful for yourself. If you’re not
making money with your gallery find other ways, try doing some secondary market
business, which is different and difficult, but even finding other ways to be
resourceful to keep your gallery going. Easier said than done perhaps but I do
think that there are a lot of people who could be resources that you have to
start reaching out to that could be helpful. I don’t know if that’s helpful,
hopeful…
TL: It is helpful.
LK: (Laughs) There is hope! Because the artists are hopeful,
and I think with art—we wouldn’t be anywhere without the artists. So that keeps
it hopeful.
TL: No matter what the financial situation, no matter what
the political situation, artists will be making art.
LK: That’s right.
TL: My take-away from this conversation with you is
conviction and conversation. (Laughs)
LK: Yes, exactly.
TL: Those are two things to believe in.
LK: Thank you for inviting me, it was a wonderful time.
TL: Thanks so much for being here Liz, this is really great.
Kai, thank you so much too for…
Kai Matsumiya: I didn’t say anything. (laughs)
TL: Thanks for doing what you do, thanks for bringing Liz
here.
KM: Liz has always been a big inspiration for me. I think
that it’s imperative to actualize the artist’s voice and practice. There are
many different types of art practices, circumstances, situations out there. But
Liz for me is one person I’ve really looked up to, who’s maintained that value,
and she reminds us that it’s possible. You know I’ve always really loved that
saying by Arthur Koestler, he said that “in the dark words count double”. It
may be the dark ages right now, but Montez Press definitely has a lot of words
out there and I have very much respect for what you do. There’s a lot of
conviction and there’s a voice…
KJ: Conversations [inaudible]
LK: That’s right. Thank you, Keenan.
TL: On that, thanks everyone.
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