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| Paul McCarthy, Tomato Head (Green), 1994 |
One
of the many pleasures of living in New York City is the presence of major
auction houses like Christie’s and Sotheby’s, whose previews provide free and
relatively unconstrained access to impressive artworks. This week I spent some
time at Christie’s, where Paul McCarthy’s larger than life take on Mr. Potato
Head, Tomato Head (1994), one of an
edition of three, was on view before being auctioned off with other works from
the Peter Norton collection.
Viewers
are permitted to get close—sometimes perilously so—to the works. I had to
maneuver awkwardly around the scattered pieces of Tomato Head—including parts never imagined by the makers (or
consumers) of Mr. Potato Head—to get a good look at Christian Marclay’s Guitar Neck (1992), an assemblage of
seven record album covers hung one above the other to form an elongated … you
guessed it … guitar neck. Guitar Neck
is the kind of art a fourteen year old would think was cool, and would probably
make, if fourteen year olds still owned records. Estimated at $60-80,000, it
took in a whopping $266,500, further evidence, in case anyone needed it, that
the art market is doing just fine. In fact, Tomato
Head, which was estimated at $1-1.5 million, sold for just over $4.5
million (gulp). Installed on the wall beside Tomato Head was a concave, stainless steel disk by Anish Kapoor.
These are strange bedfellows, these two works, and Kapoor’s austere minimalist
mirror turned Tomato Head on its
head, as if to rebuke McCarthy for his intransigence.
The
atmosphere at a preview is charged in a way that a museum visit never is—these
things are for sale! Overhearing snippets of conversations and filling in the
blanks imaginatively is part of the fun. A collector suggests the mantle as a
good location for a sumptuous wall-mounted sculpture by Josiah McElheny; her
art advisor (perhaps?) suggests the work would be better hung at eye level, as
it was at Christie’s. One smartly dressed woman gives another a lesson on Glenn
Ligon—potential buyers or art tourists, like me? A small group of people
gathered in the center of a gallery—investors discussing an opportunity, or
tourist-tourists? (The latter, as it turned out; next stop, Times Square!)
This is a
place of commerce, which can scarcely be forgotten amid the price tags and
frenetic staff; but the outrageousness of the prices neutralizes the atmosphere
somewhat, at least for me. I’ve sometimes wondered how the experience might
differ if I were acquisitive and capable of satisfying that impulse. Just this
week while in Savannah, I was put to the test, albeit under rather different
circumstances. The Savannah School of Art and Design has a wonderful gift shop,
filled with interesting objects designed by its students and faculty. I found
myself drawn to a beautiful little print; its price—under $100. And just like
that, appreciation turned into acquisitiveness. Maybe it would look good above
my desk.
