At the Independent Art Fair in Tribeca, Manhattan this week, I came across a large painting of the ubiquitous American media personality Kim Kardashian.
Slightly impressionistic, artist Ruby Dickson’s oil painting (a diptych) appears to be based on a paparazzi photo of the famous model, captured in black leggings, dyed silver hair and a baseball cap that hides her eyes. Next to it was another painting by Dickson evoking a dramatic scene from the television series sex in the city in which the main protagonist, Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker), tumbles and falls into a body of water in another jaw-dropping encounter with her then-elusive lover, Mr. Big.
These works are presented by the London gallery Harlesden High Street. The booth attendant, who was friendly and professional, told me something about how these works “criticize celebrity culture” and how Dickinson looks at this cultural phenomenon from the perspective of someone who just from a disadvantaged background. But I could see in her eyes that she was struggling to say those words with full conviction.
Standing there, I asked myself, “Why am I wasting my time on these paintings?”
But then an epiphany happened: that’s it! That’s what art fairs are about and what they exist for – the marriage of commerce and art. And out of that insight, I gained an appreciation for Dickson’s work.
For the uninitiated, the Independent Art Fair is where the cool kids hang out. It’s chic and slim with just 74 exhibitors, mostly small to mid-sized galleries showcasing the work of a single artist. It’s not your stuffy, airport-style art fair like Frieze and the Armory Show, which can easily top 200 exhibitors. To be clear, the galleries here are not impoverished artist collectives; they know how to sell work and they do. It’s more of a boutique art fair where exhibits bask in soft natural light streaming through the windows of Tribeca’s elegant Spring Studios.
Sky Edenfield, gallery owner associated with the Derek Eller Gallery in New York, explained it best. “Indie is the coolest,” she told me. “The vibe is young and everyone is so well dressed. Other New York art fairs can feel a little stiff.
On the seventh floor of the building, I came across the solo presentation of the Franco-Haitian artist Gaëlle Choisne with Air de Paris and the London gallery Nicoletti. The room was filled with paintings, hanging sculptures, and scraps of fabric on the floor. Immediately I noticed that the works were dotted with painted cigarettes cut out of paper. Choisne, who is able to work better, would have been wiser to avoid them.
Oswaldo Nicoletti, founder of his eponymous gallery, kindly explained to me that the work is about “ecology and colonialism”. These “burning” cigarettes, he said, are symbols of “struggle and globalism”. I suddenly felt a strong urge to light up a real one.
Although the art is more bad than good at Independent, there are some booths that deserve praise. My favorites were the striking gouache murals by Edie Fake with the Broadway Gallery, the cinematic acrylics by Leonard Baby with the Fortnight Institute, and the messy and wild paintings by Joseph Olisaemeka Wilson presented by the Derek Eller Gallery.
So should you visit the Independent or avoid it? If you want to see art in the company of beautiful people, buy a ticket, especially if you care about colonialism and the environment.
