My annual subscription to Artforum expires soon, and I'm getting letters from the New York art magazine's subscription department begging me to renew it. I probably will; the bumper Best of 2007 issue is an excellent read, with its exhaustive scene reports from each major art city and its Top 10 run-downs of the year's art highlights by star critics, curators and commentators. Sometimes, though, you could be forgiven for thinking that money is as crucial to Artforum's editorial department as it is to their subscriptions department.
For instance, I really have very little idea what hedge funds are and what the verb "to hedge" means. It's the kind of thing I'd expect to learn about reading The Economist, sure. But, actually, if you read The Economist and the art press, it turns out to be the other way around. From The Economist you learn cultural stuff. From the art press you learn about money. It figures; when money people get together they talk about art, when art people get together they talk about money.

Let's look at this example of hedging. Reading through the current Artforum I find the term in three different articles.
1. Page 355. A review of The Opening, a new Merlin Carpenter installation at Reena Spaulings Fine Art. Carpenter's schtick is to make the opening the piece, and to spend it daubing rude slogans about his gallerists on the walls while a crowd of art insiders networks and revels in loving/hating themselves for being art world insiders. So, in his show at Cosima von Bonin, Carpenter scrawled "Relax, it's only a crap Cosima von Bonin show" on the wall. For his show at Reena Spaulings (whose incrowdiness I mocked in my Outreach and ingroups piece last year) this became "Relax, it's only a crap Reena Spaulings show". Artforum, while not essentially disagreeing with my scene-that-celebrates-itself take on this, thinks something more interesting is going on -- something to do with economics, in fact, and specifically hedge funds. "Though gathering together a bunch of insiders to celebrate such an event reads as classist irony, to leave it at this misses the point," says reviewer Carolina Busta. "Carpenter's structures are circular, implicating all who play the game. With "The Opening" he hedges the cultural value of his gallery -- an asset underscored by his 2005 show at RSFA -- to enlist its preexisting social body as a ready-made labor force for immaterial production."
Jeez, whatever happened to the good old days when art criticism just required you to have read Lacan? Now it requires you to have read Lacan and Milton Friedman! Let me -- with my very basic understanding of economics -- try and parse that horrible sentence. As I understand it, to hedge is to gamble against the thing you're mainly gambling for, in order to spread your risk a bit. It's a kind of financial expression of treachery, ambivalence, irony, caution and pragmatism all rolled up in one gesture. So you might invest in property, but also invest in something that would benefit from the collapse of the property market, just in case everything went horribly wrong. If we were being a bit more Lacan than Wall Street Journal about it, we might just say that insulting your audience and yourself might be an appeal to the art crowd's insecurity as well as their self-love. But I frankly don't know enough about money to know how hedging relates to assets, and how this artist's show could use another show of his as an asset, let alone do all that "to enlist [his gallery's] preexisting social body as a ready-made labor force for immaterial production". Stumped me there, Carolina. Sorry, I flunked Economic Metaphysics 101.
2. Page 294. A more straighforward use of the hedge concept. T.J. Demos reports on London's current art-money bubble: "All of this owes in large part to the capital's booming financial market and its relaxed regulatory system, so attractive to the financial sector and to its private investors, including the nouveaux riches of Russia and Asia. This laissez-faire environment is also salubrious for newly formed art-focused hedge funds, now growing in the UK at a rate far higher than in the States."
So hedging isn't just happening as something metaphorical that artists do. It's also happening in the art market itself. People are investing in art because, in a world where property looks increasingly shaky, art holds its value better and can be a hedge against losing your wad in a property bust.
3. Page 284. Debra Singer's report on the New York scene paints the same basic picture: "The New York story may seem to be one of money, but even so, it's a tale encompassing many turns. Certainly, the celestial auction prices of an overheated art market dominated headlines in 2007, to say nothing of griping kaffeeklatsches of collectors, curators and gallerists. Yet underdiscussed, perhaps, is how the long-bullish economy has affected sectors of the New York art scene that ostensibly linger on its fringes, enabling small galleries and alternative, temporary art -- underwritten by the city's many investment bankers, hedge-fund managers, real estate developers, and entrepreneurs, whose pockets have for years been overflowing -- has meant that even those galleries cultivating a more renegade, anticommercial stance have sold enough to keep the doors open and, on top of that, turn a tidy profit."
Debra's point seems to be that while the art world talks about money as a negative, even the marginal galleries that are supposed to be anti-money bulwarks are underwritten by the financial fizz of the big world. To return to my theme last week of offshore accounting, this article seems to agree with the basic idea that social outreach may be coming from the heart of the beast itself rather than notionally "pure" spaces somewhere off the map.
I have mixed -- or should I say hedged? -- feelings about all this. On the one hand, I'm rather fond of the idea that some good things -- even things we call "alternative" -- might have a secret origin right in the heart of the capitalist machine. Artforum's On The Ground reports seem largely to be about money, but my own Berlin column for Viennese art magazine Spike basically hyped Wedding, Berlin's latest emerging art district, in a way that would gladden the hearts of estate agents with empty properties in the area (my Wired Neukolln article probably did the same for the district I'm living in now -- the rents haven't been hiked yet). As I said in the Offshore Accounting piece, it's silly to play the game of damning things that pop up in a commercial system because they pop up in a commercial system. It's more interesting, I think, to talk about what's good despite having that basic origin. And by that I mean aesthetically and ethically good. If there's no offshore, we make use of what we have onshore. We fix stuff at the centre rather than wasting our time tinkering at the margins.
John Kelsey is an art insider's art insider -- he's one of the Bernadette Corporation, runs the Reena Spaulings gallery and is one of Artforum's contributing editors. One of his picks for 2007 says it all, really. As his number 6 event of the year he nominates the projection of a video of a band featuring his girlfriend Emily Sundblad, Stefan Tcherepnin (once of The Gongs) and Cory Arcangel, a "semifictional New York dance pop group". They're called The Economist. Maybe I should ask them about hedging my art assets.
For instance, I really have very little idea what hedge funds are and what the verb "to hedge" means. It's the kind of thing I'd expect to learn about reading The Economist, sure. But, actually, if you read The Economist and the art press, it turns out to be the other way around. From The Economist you learn cultural stuff. From the art press you learn about money. It figures; when money people get together they talk about art, when art people get together they talk about money.
Let's look at this example of hedging. Reading through the current Artforum I find the term in three different articles.
1. Page 355. A review of The Opening, a new Merlin Carpenter installation at Reena Spaulings Fine Art. Carpenter's schtick is to make the opening the piece, and to spend it daubing rude slogans about his gallerists on the walls while a crowd of art insiders networks and revels in loving/hating themselves for being art world insiders. So, in his show at Cosima von Bonin, Carpenter scrawled "Relax, it's only a crap Cosima von Bonin show" on the wall. For his show at Reena Spaulings (whose incrowdiness I mocked in my Outreach and ingroups piece last year) this became "Relax, it's only a crap Reena Spaulings show". Artforum, while not essentially disagreeing with my scene-that-celebrates-itself take on this, thinks something more interesting is going on -- something to do with economics, in fact, and specifically hedge funds. "Though gathering together a bunch of insiders to celebrate such an event reads as classist irony, to leave it at this misses the point," says reviewer Carolina Busta. "Carpenter's structures are circular, implicating all who play the game. With "The Opening" he hedges the cultural value of his gallery -- an asset underscored by his 2005 show at RSFA -- to enlist its preexisting social body as a ready-made labor force for immaterial production."Jeez, whatever happened to the good old days when art criticism just required you to have read Lacan? Now it requires you to have read Lacan and Milton Friedman! Let me -- with my very basic understanding of economics -- try and parse that horrible sentence. As I understand it, to hedge is to gamble against the thing you're mainly gambling for, in order to spread your risk a bit. It's a kind of financial expression of treachery, ambivalence, irony, caution and pragmatism all rolled up in one gesture. So you might invest in property, but also invest in something that would benefit from the collapse of the property market, just in case everything went horribly wrong. If we were being a bit more Lacan than Wall Street Journal about it, we might just say that insulting your audience and yourself might be an appeal to the art crowd's insecurity as well as their self-love. But I frankly don't know enough about money to know how hedging relates to assets, and how this artist's show could use another show of his as an asset, let alone do all that "to enlist [his gallery's] preexisting social body as a ready-made labor force for immaterial production". Stumped me there, Carolina. Sorry, I flunked Economic Metaphysics 101.
2. Page 294. A more straighforward use of the hedge concept. T.J. Demos reports on London's current art-money bubble: "All of this owes in large part to the capital's booming financial market and its relaxed regulatory system, so attractive to the financial sector and to its private investors, including the nouveaux riches of Russia and Asia. This laissez-faire environment is also salubrious for newly formed art-focused hedge funds, now growing in the UK at a rate far higher than in the States."
So hedging isn't just happening as something metaphorical that artists do. It's also happening in the art market itself. People are investing in art because, in a world where property looks increasingly shaky, art holds its value better and can be a hedge against losing your wad in a property bust.
3. Page 284. Debra Singer's report on the New York scene paints the same basic picture: "The New York story may seem to be one of money, but even so, it's a tale encompassing many turns. Certainly, the celestial auction prices of an overheated art market dominated headlines in 2007, to say nothing of griping kaffeeklatsches of collectors, curators and gallerists. Yet underdiscussed, perhaps, is how the long-bullish economy has affected sectors of the New York art scene that ostensibly linger on its fringes, enabling small galleries and alternative, temporary art -- underwritten by the city's many investment bankers, hedge-fund managers, real estate developers, and entrepreneurs, whose pockets have for years been overflowing -- has meant that even those galleries cultivating a more renegade, anticommercial stance have sold enough to keep the doors open and, on top of that, turn a tidy profit."Debra's point seems to be that while the art world talks about money as a negative, even the marginal galleries that are supposed to be anti-money bulwarks are underwritten by the financial fizz of the big world. To return to my theme last week of offshore accounting, this article seems to agree with the basic idea that social outreach may be coming from the heart of the beast itself rather than notionally "pure" spaces somewhere off the map.
I have mixed -- or should I say hedged? -- feelings about all this. On the one hand, I'm rather fond of the idea that some good things -- even things we call "alternative" -- might have a secret origin right in the heart of the capitalist machine. Artforum's On The Ground reports seem largely to be about money, but my own Berlin column for Viennese art magazine Spike basically hyped Wedding, Berlin's latest emerging art district, in a way that would gladden the hearts of estate agents with empty properties in the area (my Wired Neukolln article probably did the same for the district I'm living in now -- the rents haven't been hiked yet). As I said in the Offshore Accounting piece, it's silly to play the game of damning things that pop up in a commercial system because they pop up in a commercial system. It's more interesting, I think, to talk about what's good despite having that basic origin. And by that I mean aesthetically and ethically good. If there's no offshore, we make use of what we have onshore. We fix stuff at the centre rather than wasting our time tinkering at the margins.
John Kelsey is an art insider's art insider -- he's one of the Bernadette Corporation, runs the Reena Spaulings gallery and is one of Artforum's contributing editors. One of his picks for 2007 says it all, really. As his number 6 event of the year he nominates the projection of a video of a band featuring his girlfriend Emily Sundblad, Stefan Tcherepnin (once of The Gongs) and Cory Arcangel, a "semifictional New York dance pop group". They're called The Economist. Maybe I should ask them about hedging my art assets.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 01:26 pm (UTC)But Art World is actually about artists in their studios -- it's about making, and about biography and how that relates to creative process. It seems to be aimed at people who just enjoy (relatively) contemporary art for its own sake, and don't either collect it or keep up with it because it's where money and power do some of their networking and, ahem, hedging these days. An art magazine for the rest of us, you could say.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 02:43 pm (UTC)A hedge(-fund) should be, according to most people, avoided at all costs.
These days there are both low risk and high risk hedge(-funds).
So, in a way, they might mean that this art is supposed to be "low risk" but could be, eh, "high risk"?
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 02:59 pm (UTC)But with the art press, you really never know. Money doesn't seem to bring automatic obloquy. Rather, there's a strategic ambivalence. The writer will say "Yes, on the one hand money plays too big a part, on the other hand money makes a lot of things possible, even really cool ones". (And actually, that seems to fit the My Bloody Valentine scenario quite well.)
I wonder, though, what today's music press would be like if the writers in, say, NME or Q wrote mostly about the financial structure of the music industry, and how that enabled some things and disabled others? I must say, I find it interesting / not interesting. I like when it's present, that talk, and I like when it's absent too.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 03:10 pm (UTC)well, here's your true rockist/post-modernist challenge.
(i'm -finally- reading through all these recent antonio negri books and totally love the way they talk about post-modernism as basically something yet to happen.)
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 03:11 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 03:27 pm (UTC)It would be interesting to make some kind of chart over how much money was put, and specifically where, in the production of an album. Was it the single's video? The cd sleeve artowork? Production and guest artists? Promotion? Quantity of cd's being printed? Etc, etc.
Maybe Steven Levitt (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steven_Levitt) could do something like that?
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 03:29 pm (UTC)McGee finally fulfilled his dreams of world pop domination with a bunch of cheap and cheerful Man City hooligans three years later, but by then Creation was only a subsidiary of Sony, wasn't it...
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 03:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 03:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 03:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 03:47 pm (UTC)Isn't it funny that that can sometimes be the same work, though? For instance, the Turner Prize just went to Mark Wallinger for his reconstruction of "penniless loser nobody" Brian Haw's protest banners. They cost Wallinger almost £100,000 to reconstruct in the Tate, so the £25,000 Turner Prize still leaves him considerably out of pocket.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 03:50 pm (UTC)penniless loser nobodies
Date: 2007-12-11 04:27 pm (UTC)are chosen and the produce is branded and reborn in an ARTFORUM supermarket if it hasn't yet met competition or taste tested. I'm extemporaneously projecting the marketing process of all this some how ending up in corner shops and vending machines. Oh how terrible this all sounds, like some Dickens tale to unravel with woe.
Re: penniless loser nobodies
Date: 2007-12-11 04:38 pm (UTC)Also, I think money plus metaphysics, or money-as-metaphysics, is a particularly unattractive combination. The passage at the end of my Superflat essay (http://imomus.com/thought280600.html) shows the kind of awfulness that results (in 4th century Constantinople, in this instance) when you mix them up. Could we be going the same way? Is money not just our material base but also our metaphysics?
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 04:49 pm (UTC)I don't think there's anything wrong with Art as a fiscal endeavour, this is not a point of principle. it's just when money starts to partner up with Art it brings out all the qualities in Art I personally hate the most.
For example, speaking as a former graphic design student, I think the first thing the head of the art department should have done during induction was sat us all down and said:
"I know why you're all here. In your heart of hearts you all really wanted to enroll on a fine arts course but you decided to take a more vocational avenue, and I applaud your realistic practicality. However, the financial stability you hope to find in a career in graphic design comes at large cost a lot of you will slowly grow to resent..."
At which point the nagging uncertainty at the back of my mind would have been revealed as the giant crux it ultimately was for me and I would have got up and left. Of course, I'm talking about the compromising of creative freedom for financial gain.
Almost everyone with art at the centre of their career at some stage has to compromise this aspect of themselves to bring in the money. that is unless you become famous where you can shit on a piece of paper and people will buy it, like a self-perpetuating hype machine, or you're willing to take the romantic root taken by many members of the creative class for hundreds of years: become the starving artist.
I'm slowing moving out of graphic design while I'm still young. My "art assets" will doubtless always be worthless, but they'll be mine uncompromised and that's all that matters to me.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 05:03 pm (UTC)While I don't deny this does happen sometimes, I don't think there's any fixed connection between compromising creative freedom and earning money. In other words:
1. People who get rich from creative activities have often not compromised their creative freedom at all.
2. People who have compromised their creative freedom haven't automatically got rich doing it.
3. I'm rather suspicious of the notion of there being this offshore sort of "creative freedom". I think a more realistic picture is that creativity is produced by the opportunities to exercise it, and that we have to include money as one of the things that structures those opportunities.
To put that more concretely, it's not that I "have songs in me" and compromise with the music industry to get them heard. It's more that the music industry exists, and I notice that and therefore make records. If the music industry disappears, I go off and do something else.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 05:54 pm (UTC)1) Very few people "get rich" from art. The people who do "get rich" become rich because thier art has become celebrated to some degree.
"Artists" arent just people with Wikipedia entries who've had some degree of notable success -- they're normal, everyday people where being creative is part of their personality. These people either pursue art as an interest, or they work in the industry and do projects they're commissioned to. For example, I've had to design long distance call banners in my past as a graphic designer. My mum's friend who I mentioned a few posts back has to do backing vocals on other people's albums. We're not rich or notable, and we're in the majority, there are millions of people like us. The people "who get rich from art but dont have to compromise their creative freedom" are more part of your world than mine, but they're in the minority.
2. Most people dont compromise their creativity to become rich, they compromise it to pay the rent.
3) Money as a consequence of artistic freedom is perfectly dandy as far as im concerned. Money motivating art is a game I'd rather not play because then you start getting into the "well, this idea is good, but this idea would sell better" mentality, which saps me of the one reason why I love art: creative expression.
" it's not that I "have songs in me" and compromise with the music industry to get them heard. It's more that the music industry exists, and I notice that and therefore make records."
Like I said, I'm not an art puritan (and that comment right there would make any art puritan sob...) but I don't empathise with that at all. My art comes from a sheer desire to express my personality, yours seems to come from a "supply and demand" mentality. I think that's why you have such a dissatisfaction with the music industry right now. If you had a passion for creating art purely as a creative vessel, this whole business of the music industry colapsing wouldnt be an issue. I think people like you almost always end up dissatisfied because you rely hugely on outside influences for validation, where as most of the artists I know get their satisfaction from within their very canvases.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 05:57 pm (UTC)This month I've designed an identity for the museum that houses Joyce's manuscript for Ulysses, talked with curators about an installation in a NY gallery, and now I'm going on a field trip with the staff of America's first botanical garden to research carnivorous plants to help them set up their own bog garden in the spring. Then I'm coming home to do an editorial illustration.
There's no reason you can't do this, too. All that matters is that you do it well.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 06:05 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 06:13 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 06:20 pm (UTC)I think I'm just a lot more suspicious of the romantic notion of creativity and individual genius than you seem to be. I think it's fairly silly to imagine someone being "born a graphic designer", for instance, independent of any sort of publishing industry. Think of how those "born graphic designers" must have suffered through the millenia before Caxton and Gutenberg! They must have itched to open Illustrator and get cracking "expressing" their "vocation" -- but computers hadn't been invented yet! Nor publishing! Nor paper! I suppose they just went off and kerned a couple of rocks.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 06:30 pm (UTC)Well, I am not the one to talk about economy since I am bad at math in general, but the origins of economic systems like capitalism and socialism interest me. Plus, this is a bit obscure so it is of value to me. Hehehe.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 06:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 06:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-11 06:53 pm (UTC)This month I've designed take-out menus, Flyers for a gay club night and buttons and backgrounds for a website. Welcome to the world of being a young graphic designer; wet behind the ears with only a few years experience.
"You get out of graphic design everything that you put in! Make every project your own!" my lecturers used to say, the over-optimistic sell outs, who evidently took on teaching to supliment their own incomes...
"I'm not sure this is what we're looking for; can we change this and possibly make this a little more crisp please? I'm not keen on this colour scheme, I also think those photos need repositioning." my clients will say, because after all, you're commissioned to create their visions not your own. As your work gets prodded and poked and remanaged it changes into something you're not familiar with anymore -- "Im not sure this is suitable for our target audience". It stops being art and becomes a "craft", devoid of the freedoms that spurred me on to pursue an artistic profession.
Before you know it you're making leaflets for the NHS about flu shots and advertisements for long distance calls to appear on websites. I am the "penniless loser nobody" (as someone above put it above) who designs your organic potato chip bags and "How to" washing machine illustrations.
"you have to stick it out, this is all part of building a career. Climb the ladder, boy." I can hear my grandfather says as we talk about my life. The truth is, you're not guaranteed artistic freedom as you get older and more experienced, and from what I've seen the older you get the less interested people become in you. They want fresh, up-ad-coming talent. I was talking to a guy in his mid 50s the other day just by chance; he was the creative director of a very large PR firm here in the UK. He'd recently been made redundant. He was convinced its because hes too old.
I'm very happy for you that you're involved in such fantastic projects that you love, I wish you all the success in the world. In my experience the graphic design industry is rarely like this. Without total artistic freedom art means nothing to me. I had to learn that the hard way.