More evidence that the art market is bananas
The sale of a piece of fruit for $120,000 is a symptom of a world untethered from reality
We didn’t need somebody to buy a banana for $120,000 to tell us that art collectors frequently have more money than sense. Such “ready-made” japes have been causing controversy since Marcel Duchamp first proposed his urinal over a century ago.
But there is something about the timing of this furore — which saw collectors shell out $120,000 for editions of a banana, entitled “Comedian”, duct-taped to a wall by Italian artist Maurizio Cattelan at Art Basel Miami Beach — that feels particularly distasteful. That we are living in dark times is hardly news. The turbulence is even lapping at the shores of the art world — a place which commonly rises above the storms that buffet less privileged regions. (After the financial crisis of 2008, the art market bounced back fast.) But today thousands of artists are fighting for freedom of expression across the world. Even when artists are not behind bars, censorship is rife.
Meanwhile cultural institutions are staggering under the political upheavals that afflict their countries. Art Basel Hong Kong, one of the most lucrative fairs, is subsidising dealers to attend next year’s edition in the strife-torn territory.
Meanwhile a spate of scandals around questionable funding sources has seen sponsors and philanthropists, such as BP and the Sackler family, dropped by institutions and board members, notably Warren Kanders of the Whitney Museum, forced to resign.
Those latter events signal to the wealthy that the world is watching. And, furthermore, that it is capable of protesting in a way it wasn’t in the era before digital media made it so much easier to build networks of resistance.
Even climate change has caught up with contemporary art’s glitzy circus. Earlier this month at Art Basel Miami Beach, a glut of media attention highlighted the contradiction between the art, much of which is focused on ecological themes, and the carbon footprint of the event that shows it.
Many artists are on the side of the angels. The decision by the shortlisted quartet — Helen Cammock, Lawrence Abu Hamdan, Tai Shani and Oscar Murillo — to split the Turner Prize earlier this month was the latest expression of a swelling tide of socially committed practitioners. These artists are aware, as Ms Cammock observed in the prize-winners’ joint acceptance speech, that art can help unravel the knots of a “world entangled” where “climate chaos” is “inseparable . . . from capitalism”.
“Bananagate” exposes an elite that wants to remain uncontaminated by such associations. Among those who bought editions of “Comedian” are Miami-based Billy and Beatrice Cox. They defended their purchase by comparing the work to Andy Warhol’s seminal soup cans.
They also promised to donate “Comedian” to a museum where, presumably, its revolutionary properties would enlighten future generations. They would replace it, they said, every few days to prevent rot. Meanwhile, the seller, Paris-based gallerist Emmanuel Perrotin, opined that the real value of the work lay in the certificate of authentication. “They buy an idea. They buy a certificate,” he told the New York Times.
This is nonsense. Warhol’s soup cans, though far less fascinating than many critics believe, packed a novelty factor that made them significant. Mr Cattelan’s banana will affect nothing save a handful of bank balances.
A certificate of authentication for a banana, especially one that is regularly replaced, is a symptom of an art world where money is confetti and ideas are loose change. It raises two fingers to all those for whom $120,000 could change, even save, lives. For some, a piece of fruit itself is worth rubies.
Yet the wealthy wonder why they are unpopular. A recent report from UBS, the world’s largest private wealth manager (which also happens to be the main sponsor of Art Basel), defended billionaires from accusations of greed. Speaking to the Financial Times, UBS head of ultra-high net worth Josef Stadler, condemned “bias in the media” and denied that his clients made “too much money on the back of poor people”. Rather, he said, they were a force for job creation and the distribution of wealth.
And of course, there’s all their philanthropy. Hundreds of art patrons fund cultural activities while living in tax havens such as Dubai, Geneva and indeed banana-loving Florida. One Swiss-based collector said to me recently that he was planning on setting up a charity devoted to “poor children”, yet had no intention of contributing to official public services in countries, such as the US, where he was making his millions. His decision reflects a situation where 10 per cent of the global gross domestic product is held in tax havens.
Given the problems we’re facing, that may be bananas but, with respect to Mr Cattelan, it’s not remotely funny.