This year the fair, held at Regents Park, showed off the usual array of big names such as Tracey Emin, Jim Lambie, Cindy Sherman and Jeremy Deller, but it was the lesser known artists and galleries that really impressed. As always there was a distinct lack of new media work because this format is less commercial but there were, however, a few galleries willing to stick their neck out to put on a good show.

Timothy Taylor’s gallery in London had an entertaining and cleverly selected series of works, and despite the arbitrary inclusion of a Bridget Riley painting (an artist represented by no less than four galleries) they managed to include works by Diane Arbus and Richard Patterson, whose ‘Portrait of the Artist as an Older Man‘ (2009) was a compelling piece of mixed media work.

One of the only galleries daring enough to put together a show of video works, aside from the dozens of 16mm projectors buzzing and clunking there way through the fair, was Sadie Coles gallery. A real effort was made by the curator to create an experience for the viewer and not just the buyer. The images, by Hilary Lloyd, were HD projections of mirrors, light and colour, both aesthetically interesting and surprisingly innovative for a fair that has always placed profits above innovation.

Other video work was presented by Yeondoo Jung and Sebastian Diaz Morales. Morales’ two channel video projection (thankfully in HD) entitled ‘The Way Between Two Points (Terra Incognita)‘ (2009) about the sparseness of Patagonia, was eerie but addictive viewing. One last piece of video to mention is Carlo Zanni’s ‘The Possible Ties Between Illness and Success’, a two minute short played on an ipod. Initially an interesting prospect, but the film itself and the strange plastic figure stuck to the screen left us feeling bored and slightly irritated at having taken the effort to cross the room at all.

German gallery Eigen + Art had an oddly curated space that showed off some of the more interesting photographic works. Martin Eder’s large glossy prints of odd looking women and all their flaws kept the viewers and the buyer’s interest for longer than most other photographic pieces. Having said this, Jemima Stehli’s ‘Photo Performance 31 with Larry Bell Sculpture’ was an unexpected treat. Jemima stands in a gallery next to Larry Bell’s mirror sculpture then strips naked and places the flash in her mouth to take the photo. This kind of work is why people other than those in the business come to Frieze. Jemima posits questions about authenticity, authorship, performance, and the photograph (aside from its theoretical appeal) is a comical piece of relief from a mentally and physically exhausting day.

The experience of the day was at Stephen Friedman’s gallery. Jim Hodges ‘the dark gate’ was a pitch black room with only a small shed and a wall of very sharp blades, creating a unique and terrifying environment, filling the participants with an ‘unsettling sense of intrigue, menace and intense beauty’.

In previous years the fair has been littered with obscene works, gory paintings, suspect images of children, illuminous pink vaginas and a phallus at every turn. This year, whilst symbolism was still there, I only counted a handful of explicit as opposed to implicit works. In their place are dozens of works about celebrity. Work like Phil Collins’ (unfortunately not ‘Easy Lover’ Phil Collins) altered photograph of Britney Spears with her eyes and mouth cut out and emblazoned with the words ‘I Suck’ was entertaining if nothing else. Gillian Wearing’s photograph of herself dressed as Robert Mapplethorpe represents artists as celebrity, something that in my view underpins the Frieze art fair. Turning artists into celebrities is big business with those at the top (Damien Hirst) worth in excess of £100 million. I’m not sure what all this means for the industry, perhaps the buyer’s taste is becoming more conservative or maybe artists are becoming tired of the obvious and blunt nature of profanity to labour a point.

Whatever the galleries of Frieze choose to put on, it would seem that the fair has become a fixed part of the art world’s calendar, as inevitable as the British summertime and unfortunately just as predictable.

Last week was the Christmas of the art world. ‘No one does it like the Frieze’, Frieze turned London into the hub of international glam industry, the battleground for the movers and shakers and the fairground for the art-for-pleasure goers. Sprueth Magers Berlin London produced one of the best stands in the fair, featuring John Baldessari’s Beethoven’s Trumpet (image on the left), in the meantime staging a solo (image on the right) at their Mayfair gallery site. Baldessari is one of the greatest living artists who’s had a long, prolific, progressive and highly respectable career. This is a comment we are confident that most artists/art workers collectors would agree with. It is shocking how little known John Baldessari is outside of the art world. With Tate Modern hosting a major retrospective of Baldessari (unfortunately alongside Pop Life), several parallel shows at Paris, London, Berlin and being the cover of Frieze magazine.. you will be hearing the name John Baldessari A LOT in the following months. We can’t think of anyone else more deserving.

Text by Theresa Liang and William West, Chief Editors of INTRODUCING ART.

I moved from the first room containing a select group of Kapoor’s early pigment sculptures, to Yellow in the second room, I imagined the sun radiating warmth and colour. I didn’t realise at first that this is a 3D work, receding into the wall.

As I turned to my left, I was shocked to see what I thought were dead bodies (my reaction was probably linked to the morning reading about Aztec sacrifices of human hearts to the gods). This third room contains the major exhibit Shooting into the Corner where projectiles of red wax are fired into a corner by a cannon every 20 minutes or so throughout the exhibition, providing an ever increasing build up of wax on the floor and walls. I watched while the cannon was loaded, the wax heated and the cannon fired. The suspense exploded for the expectant audience and I felt we should all revisit the exhibition to see how big the pile of wax gets. It should be a major cleaning job to get the wax off the ceiling, walls, doorframe and floor.

Next stop was a room full of beguiling mirror polished stainless steel sculptures where everyone was laughing at their changing reflections in the different shapes. Legs bent out as if made of rubber, stretched thin bodies, upside down reflections. This is one exhibit where the audience really interact with one another, laughing, speculating about the works and sharing the childish fun.

The highlight of the exhibition is Svayambh, a giant red wax Hovis loaf (that was my interpretation) travelling on railway lines across the entire breadth of Burlington house, through doorways between rooms, taking 90 minutes to complete the journey before returning down the tracks. People gathered to watch and speculate about the giant wax block. It was fascinating to watch it squeeze through the door frames.

Hive made me think of a rusty submarine from the outside, but looking into the dark interior through the oval hole I couldn’t help but think of an anus! I would have liked to climb inside Hive to explore the dark cave interior.

Greyman Cries, Shaman Dies, Billowing Smoke, Beauty Evoked, a body of cement sculptures and the most recent of Kapoor’s works, I thought of worm casts, noodles, baskets, faeces and rock formations. It’s a room full of sculptures to move around and look inside.

Slug could be intestines connected to a vulva or it could be a triffid. I imagined swimming pool slides and full red lips. In the room next door, the giant red wax hovis loaf was just completing its journey to the end of the line and an audience had gathered to watch. I bought the exhibition book which contains a number of other Kapoor works that are not included in the exhibit.

For those new to Anish Kapoor, he was born in Bombay in 1954, moved to London in 1973 and has an artistic career that spans more than 30 years.

Le Centquatre 42 is an innovative multi-use space that encompasses studios, showrooms and workshops. The space aims to integrate artistic creative views with the surrounding community, establishing a public space that they hope will aid in the reconstruction of social relations for the 19th arrondissement, a Paris neighborhood known more for poverty and crime than art.

A large scale model of the Centquatre space dominates the lobby where, propped up at knee height, the installation takes on the appearance of a dollhouse. Next to the model is a series of cubby holes filled with miniature building materials. Paul Cox is inviting the viewer to build their own art installations inside the mini gallery to draw on people’s preconceptions regarding authorship and artistic autonomy (the idea that anyone can make art), hopefully inspiring the rest of the community to not only get involved, but to create aspirations beyond the district’s impoverished surroundings. Whilst thought provoking, the installation pokes fun at both the artistic institution and the viewer, who at this point has probably moved on to the far more compelling sight of 100 members of the public performing Tai Chi in the main hall.

Surrounded by artists working on renovations and a series of installations, sculptures and videos, these energetic morning Parisians manage to appear as artists or even art themselves. On further enquiry, one discovers that this ‘performance’ is one of a series organized by the gallery to induct members of the community into artistic expression. This is a truly impressive way of drawing the masses into what could be seen as a conceptually pretentious environment. If this doesn’t provide enough intrigue, then more can be found nestling at the back of the exhibition space in what appears to be a large garden made from crates.

La Table De Jardinage! (The Gardening Table) is an installation involving two dozen landscape gardeners collecting seeds of fruits and vegetables consumed at a picnic to create an ever evolving garden. Gardeners and enthusiasts will tend the space for up to a month before handing over to the next artist or volunteer. The blooms and fruit have already attracted birds and other local wildlife, further impressing the idea of social integration with art.

Whilst Centquatre has some way to go before competing as a major tourist gallery (greater publicity for the space and targeting a wider audience would be a start) the curators have proven that the ghettos surrounding Montmartre are still capable of producing some of Paris most innovative ideas and pieces of work. Having ventured as far out as the Stalingrad metro stop, if you simply can’t bear the thought of leaving Paris without actually entering the Louvre then by all means step in the queue, descend into the pyramid, walk into the centre of the bustle, spend a few reverent minutes staring at the immensity of the foyer and then promptly remove yourself and head for the decorative arts Museum round the corner. Here you will find an incredible range of design, art, craft and true Parisian history including the largest collection of original Toulouse Lautrec posters in the world and the work of Madeleine Vionnet ‘Inspiration for Gucci and Prada’.

Le CENTQUATRE (104) open Tues-Sat 11am-11pm, Sun & Mon 11am-10pm, 104, rue d’Aubervilliers, 75019 Paris http://www.104.fr

Takashi Murakami - Panda

The non-commercial part of the exhibition starts by bringing together works from many famous artists such as Jean-Michel Basquiat, Paul Chan, Jeff Coons and Pierre Huyghe to name but a few. Each artist has their own room so works are not invaded by other pieces. Some just have one work such as Jeff Coon’s monkey paintings. We also see Richard Prince’s Marlboro Cowboys and Bertrand Lavier’s Neon Light’s in true contemporary style. The works we get to see reflect an energetic urban culture, leading to fictional landscapes located somewhere between dreams and adventure.

The more commercial part of the exhibition is in the most ostentatious room of all and filled with Louis Vuitton logo luggage which doesn’t even try to hide the fact it’s really just merchandise in a museum. Never the less, moving into Takashi Murakami’s room makes up for it as we are confronted by a five minute Japanime Alice in Wonderland Louis Vuitton commercial. The room is fluffy pink with Murakami’s various LV monogram works bounded as canvas and hung as art. This may not be everyone’s idea of art, but it really did put a smile on my face, especially an over sized cartoon panda seeming to come out of a vintage LV trunk.

Jeff Koons - Monkey train (birds)

The last of the exhibition takes us in the a room where seven, more unknown, artists from Hong Kong display their works. We have quacking ducks from Adrian Wong, photo’s which impose feelings onto landscapes by Leung Chi-Wo. My favorite is Lee Kit’s living space installation which is so convincing that you are not quite sure if he really is in the shower.

After my tour of the exhibition, despite the commercial aspect, it actually is a world class show which I highly recommend. If you have read our article ‘Chinese Luxury Vertigo’ you may see why perhaps LV bought this exhibit to Hong Kong.

The exhibition has only a few days left as it finishes on the 9th August.

For more information go to Leisure and Cultural Services Department website.

What interests me is what runs underneath speeches and discourses, within images. I try to create the conditions in which, whether one faces a narrative or not, there is no conclusion, no certitude.

Belgian Artist David Claerbout’s current exhibition at Hauser and Wirth consists of a series of video installations that are a literal study of being, each with their own nondescript narrative and unique sense of past and present. The first of three installations created specifically for this show, Riverside(2009) is a dual projection that follows a man and a woman traveling along a remote stream in Belgium evoking a deep sense of memory, history and peril. The first thing to note about the piece is the incredible production values; the camera panning, focus and selection of shots are flawless. The characters themselves make up only a small part of each film serving as a reference point to reality and time as we the viewer see it, their narrative is disjointed and discomforting. The beginning of each projection sees a businesswoman driving out to the country and a mountain biker lying on the ground covered in cuts and bruises following a crash. The businesswoman loses her heels and cigarettes and the biker abandons his bike so that as we the viewer, and presumably they, make their way into the countryside they slowly lose all sense of their roles and of time. This juxtaposition of the beautiful natural scenes and these two figures that slowly lose their identity is the perfect expression of time corroding away the semi-permanence of human life. This is mirrored in the life cycle of the river drying-up and renewing itself. Questions pop up throughout; why is this woman here? What has happened to this man? Where are they going? Who are they? This is part of the charm of Claerbout’s work; there is no answer, there is no certainty and there is no reality. Whilst this set of films is both compelling and surreal, in my view it is the weakest of the three on show.

Upstairs The American Room (2009) is a completely different style of video, complex and moving. Time is completely suspended in this room full of people awaiting the start of a concert, although to look at the flags and security men in the room one could easily assume this was a political speech in motion. This freeze frame is taken moments before the singer is about to begin. The whole room (including those viewing the installation) is left in a perpetual state of potential energy; something is always about to happen, but nothing does. Despite the lack of action or narrative, this film is astoundingly descriptive. The steady camera movements circling the room and focusing on individual characters affords the viewer an insider’s perspective; we are in the room. This complex, stereoscopic experience of a single moment allows us to psychoanalyse each individual, assessing their mood, their opinions and even what their lives might entail. Coupled with piano music interpreting American classics such as Hero, A Whole New World, Star-Spangled Banner and, obscurely, I Believe I Can Fly, the film has an overwhelmingly emotive undertone. The close ups force the viewer to look at each individual as a fascinating, intricate and integral part of something much larger, perhaps the concept of America itself with emphasis on the multicultural and multiethnic population. Young and old, wealthy and poor, pragmatists and dreamers all amass in this grand room (filmed in the upper gallery at Hauser and Wirth) to listen to a young, seemingly proud, woman sing. In addition to Claerbout’s technical prowess, his ability to conjure a narrative from nowhere whilst all along undermining the need for, and importance of, a story is one of the strongest elements of his work. This is made continuingly apparent in his third video installation.

Sunrise (2009) is the third and final piece of work on show. I have listed the pieces in this order because, having viewed the exhibition on multiple occasions, I think the installations have the greatest impact when seen in this way. Winding down the spiral staircase into darkness, the viewer is led by torch into a small room in the basement. Damp and dawn-lit by the serene video, it is a task to find a place to sit. This being said, from the first bleep at the beginning of the roll, Sunrise is a masterpiece of timing, camera-work, lighting and sheer artistic ingenuity and grace. The film follows a maid about her morning tasks in a modernist villa. A sleeping monument, homage to a lost architectural era, the house is the image of perfection, crisp white and timeless, mirrored by its inhabitant’s meticulous nature. When seen in its entirety, Claerbout’s film effectively balances the tedious chores of its focal character with uplifting music and the approaching dawn. The intensely emotive quality of this installation is achieved in a number of ways. Claerbout has pulled time into question by focusing on a character whose life takes place in the blue dawn of the Belgian countryside while all around her sleep. The darkness of the room, the visuals and the virtual silence as the maid creeps around the villa, create a peaceful and nurturing environment placing the viewer into a vulnerable state of mind whilst also giving us the power of voyeurism. It is this vulnerability which is taken advantage of when we catch a glimpse of the maid on her bicycle as she rides up a hill. The sun peeks out as classical music begins to pump through the speakers, creating a romantic and touching connection with the woman on her bike. In its final minutes this film transforms itself from a quiet, unassuming view of perfection into an assault of emotion.

Claerbout has achieved a rare triumph with this show, rare in that so few exhibitions or pieces of work achieve what they set out to. With a lack of certainty, a series of questions and a prolonged assault on the senses, his videos combine a deep understanding of context with the integrity of an independent film maker offering us a view of time that transcends our everyday understanding of it into something metaphysical, both inspirational and thought provoking.

David Claerbout at Hauser and Wirth runs until August 1st (196A Piccadilly, London, W1J 9DY, UK).

“I don’t make things, I make things happen!”

Jeremy Deller is an Artist made famous by his historic Turner Prize win in 2004. Since then he has established himself at the vanguard of British Art, whilst maintaining a fresh, original and exciting attitude towards the industry and the production of his various projects. Collaboration and participation are central to Deller’s work. As he explains “a good collaboration is like going on a long journey without a map, never knowing quite where you will end up”. In his current exhibition at the Parasol Unit he has once again called upon the viewer and various participants to see Art as the event and not the document. Here we are shown a contrast between two very different types of videos, both of which follow parades; one has national and mournful undertones and the other is a celebration of diversity.

Photograph by Hainsley Brown & Deller's The History of the World 1997-2004

‘Veteran’s Day Parade, The End of the Empire’ 2002 is a documentary film surrounded by untitled stills of the event. The film follows a parade of carnival floats made up of local industries and organisations. Set in the southern United States, the event is inherently nationalistic and so, for a non-patriot, becomes rather trite and arduous. There is a sense of sorrow and tragedy that besets the film, exacerbated by the presence of local police and ambulance vehicles as part of the procession. The environment is a lonely expanse of desert which, despite the assumed appearance of a celebration, creates a feeling of desolation and even sorrow.

Throughout the film Deller is present as a commentator of sorts, chuckling as a group of motor bikes weave across the road in front of the camera. A float passes with a group of children on board singing “We are Christians by our love”, then more children, this time with expressions of extreme boredom waving Mexican flags. Whilst the event works at unifying, one can’t help but notice the isolation of one float from the next. The random procession of school, motor bike, Christian, cop, Mexican in an ongoing ramble across the dusty desert street creates a feeling of segregation and unison by force as opposed to a genuine melting pot of cultures and ideas. As a film, this is a standard document of an event that plays perfectly with Deller’s concepts in that anyone could be filming. It is the event that is interesting, the event is a form of art in its own right and the film is merely the document. This idea follows into his second video offering.

Veterans Day Parade, 2002 Video installation, Art: Concept, Paris & The Bats, Still from Memory Bucket, 2003

‘A Social Parade’ 2004 is a parade organised by Deller in San Sebastian that comprises different social and cultural groups filmed by a local children’s video club. In this instance we are never quite sure how much influence Deller has had over the children’s work. We follow several child interviewers around who proceed to ask the general public, organisers and participants about the event entitled ‘Manifesta’. When asked “Do you like this type of Art?” a local woman hesitates before answering “I prefer the traditional kind of art”, which at least suggests she sees the ‘happening’ as art. The parade, in contrast to the previous film, has a true carnival feel and is made up of mainly fringe social groups put together by Deller especially for this parade. ‘The Roma Jazz Lovers Band’, ‘AIDS Activists’, ‘The Martial Arts Society’, ‘The Mute Association’, ‘The Painter’s Society’ and the ‘The Children’s Rights Charity’ are just a few of the groups that march together to celebrate unity through minority.

As ever, Jeremy Deller has drawn attention to types of culture on the fringes of the mainstream and revealed a series of hidden histories whilst asking us to accept a celebration, a parade, a gathering as a piece of Art. Put in the words of a ‘Manifesta’ onlooker “What is art and what is not art is sometimes not important”.

Have you missed the first part? Continue to read Part One of Art: The Document of an Idea – Luke Fowler.

Parades and Processions is an ongoing group show at Parasol Unit Foundation for Contemporary Art finishing on July 24th that includes a mixture of work form 11 artists, particularly impressive are the works of Rachel Hovnanian and Amy O’Neill.

Luke Fowler is a 31 year old media Artist that has risen from the diverse and vibrant Glasgow art scene. Using documentary film, projections and photographic media, Fowler attempts to question the boundaries between fact and interpretation, Art and Film. His current exhibition at the Serpentine combines experimentation and documentation in equal measure. Drawing on inspiration from radical film makers and artists of the seventies, his densely layered videos take us on a journey through the minds of disturbed, deranged and introverted patients of Kingsley Hall, right through to the genius of composer Cornelius Cardew.

The exhibition begins in collaboration with the Japanese sound Artist Toshiya Tsunoda. Composition for the Flutter Screen (2008) is the most recent and experimental work that Fowler has to offer us. On entering the opening foyer, one is hit with the whirring of projectors and the ‘fluttering’ of 16mm film. Each video tries to depict various phenomena, such as light or sound that engulf simple objects under changing conditions. From this agitated series of filmic abstractions, the exhibition progresses with two documentaries.

The first entitled The Nine Monads of David Bell (2006) is both shocking and compelling in its honesty and intrusiveness. The film is predominantly concerned with Bell, a resident of the Kingsley Hall refuge facility set up by rebel psychiatrist R. D. Laing.

With its anti-authoritarian ethos and questioning of established ideas about sanity and insanity, normality and abnormality, Kingsley Hall was an important focal point for the newly emerging ‘counter culture’ in Britain, and Mr. Bell embodies this sense of the outsider and the ‘avante garde’. He is the perfect metaphor for 70’s Britain, both brilliant and lost. From meeting Bell and some of the other patients, one simply cannot keep track of this film. The characters move backwards and forwards through time, the voiceovers are often out of sync with the visuals, and the edits are confused, all of which help to encourage the feeling of discomfort that marks this work from beginning to end. What Fowler has done is to force the viewer to question their sanity, their morality, and integral to the show as a whole, how they view film.

Nine Monads of David Bell & Pilgrimage from Scattered Points (2006)

It is true testament to Fowler’s ability as both a film-maker and an artist that his second documentary has such a different feel to it. Pilgrimage from Scattered Points (2006) focuses on the English composer Cornelius Cardew, and is arguably Fowler’s most famous work. Combining archival footage, photographs, interviews and previously unreleased music recordings, Fowler tells the story of Cardew’s experimental ‘Scratch Orchestra’ of the 1960s/70s. Whilst Fowler wishes us to view the film as a documentary, his technique hints at something more. Visuals are shown out of time with the soundtrack, various formal images of light and shadow are interspersed with images of the orchestra and interviewees, and at times the documentary comes across more as a video installation, forcing the viewer out of a comfortable narrative flow. As with the previous film this is quite deliberate.

The ‘Scratch Orchestra’ is made up of various untrained musicians all trying to find their way through each musical piece. The pieces that they are attempting to play are loud, uninstructed and made up of many individual voices and instruments. Listening to the music is challenging and rewarding because so much of what we hear is open to interpretation. What Cardew attempted 40 years ago with music, Fowler asks us to apply to film. We, the viewers, are challenged to mould and construct the event on film so that it unfolds only for us.

Fowler’s films are frustrating, entertaining, compelling, uncomfortable, inspiring and hard work, but in the end Fowler has successfully evoked a time in which Art was political, and more importantly, when Art did more than just sell.

“My success – if that’s what it is – would probably be repulsive to many of the people I’ve depicted,” he says. “But if it means there’s a hunger for films that don’t offer the audience an easy way out, that don’t patronise them the way so much television does, then perhaps it’s a good thing.”

Fowler’s work can be seen in the Barbican’s (London, UK) upcoming exhibition ‘Radical Nature, Art & Architecture for a changing planet‘ 19/06/09 – 20/09/09.

Brad Pitt Spends $960K On Painting At 40th Art Basel Fair

Saying the ‘Credit Crunch’ is not part of this art fairs world is a little naive. I am sure that Art Basel’s success this year has indeed been affected by the dreaded tag line. Investors and collectors are very well versed in the global downturn but see art as a more solid investment than other riskier forms, and of course, buying in a downturn ensures the best price for your investment as dealers are more prepared to lower their prices to ensure a sale

Toting up the money that was spent over the 5 days is hard to say. Joining in the whole social setting of the fair seemed to be the best way to gauge it’s economic success. Wether it was cocktails at the Beyeler Museum or dinner at Chez Donati the social chat was buzzing with the success of certain sales from artists such as Anish Kapoor, Martin Kippenberger, Neo Rauch and Barbara Kruger who’s art attracted sales in excess of $1m. Jeffrey Deitch sold Kehinde Wiley’s “Lamentation over the Dead Christ” for almost $175,000 to Princess Gloria von Thurn und Taxis and Michael Werner Gallery sold one of Peter Doig’s classic “Concrete Cabin” paintings for around $3m. To top it all off, Larry Gagosia succeeded in selling one of Andy Warhol’s 1965 paintings of Campbell’s Soup cans for even more than that.

Look out for London’s very own Frieze Art Fair in Regent’s Park from the 15th – 18th October 2009. Started in 2003 Frieze is already renowned as a key event for international galleries and buyers. With over 150 galleries showcasing their works, there will be plenty to keep you entertained. Our Calendar has always up to date events from around the world that you can not miss!

To trully visualise the diversity of presented works check out yatzer.com’s Art Basel 2009 in 60 photographs photo report!