From the November 2024 issue of Apollo. Preview and subscribe here.
Artists traditionally while away their time in a garret and explore the unlit corners of the human soul. A more modern image of the artist might be someone who has an idea for an image so striking that they are hailed as a genius – and, fortunately, have a business manager proficient enough to make sure that the rest of the world hears this hailing. In neither of these characterisations is there much room for optimism.
During the art fair-laden month of October, optimism seemed to be on everyone’s mind. How optimistic was everyone feeling about London, about Paris, about the art market – on and on it went. Normally, if you are talking about optimism, the chances are you’re not feeling optimistic. This is a problem in economic terms. As we are so often told, optimism breeds success. Does this mean that without optimism there is no success? It was at Frieze, in particular, that the subject kept coming up. Day 1: ‘Feeling optimistic?’ Day 2: ‘Are you optimistic sales might improve?’ Day 3: ‘Why don’t people feel more optimistic?’ Day 4: ‘I’ll feel more optimistic if I can have a lie down.’ Before a talk I attended, an art advisor suggested that there were so many great things going on in London – the talk was just one example – that the city should feel more optimistic. Many in the auction world are muttering gloomily about 2025 being the first time that the art market (by which they mean the auction market) contracts for three consecutive years. Looking at the auctions that took place in London recently, things don’t look so bad. They may not have been great for works by Paula Rego, which were pulled from sales or went below estimate (suggesting that someone got a bargain, as her work still seems to me to be undervalued). But, in general, the totals came in quite well. Christie’s made £81.9m (including fees) at their evening sale on 9 October. It might not herald a billion-dollar week but it is not a market where there is no money.
Adrian Meyer, global head of private sales at Christie’s, selling Ria, Naked Portrait (2006–07) by Lucian Freud. Courtesy Christie’s Images Ltd
The week before London (and collectors from all over the world) poured into the two tents in Regent’s Park, I was in Brussels. Part of my trip included a visit to the Royal Institute for Cultural Heritage (KIK-IRPA), a federal institution that studies and conserves Belgium’s cultural and artistic heritage. Museums from across Europe send their Flemish primitives to be restored here. But that is not the institute’s exclusive concern: a Rubens in need of some attention was being cleaned in the studio during my visit. For more than ten years KIK-IRPA has been working on the restoration of the Ghent Altarpiece by the van Eyck brothers. The altarpiece was part of the discussion I attended and it involved a detailed look at some of the work that has been carried out. The conversation focused on some fascinating details in the work, such as two men in conversation, painted by Jan van Eyck in the background of the second panel, in a space no larger than a centimetre wide. These are not mere suggestions of men. If you zoom in using the tools on KIK-IRPA’s website Closer to Van Eyck, you can see the expressions on their faces, the head tilted back with pleasure, the folds of cloth in one man’s dress. To see these figures and appreciate the delicacy of work was a thrill. But it also raised another point that might help us think about the art market. Work of this quality is partly about scale and proportion. Perhaps we should keep this in mind when everyone is saying that the world is going to hell in a handcart but the facts don’t quite agree; it can be useful to keep a sense of scale and proportion before we start catastrophising. It might not get us to optimism, but it might stop everything feeling so ‘meh’.
From the November 2024 issue of Apollo. Preview and subscribe here.