London:

swinging back to the centre of the art world?

by David Whittaker.

David Whittaker graduated from Bradford University, London, with a degree in Electronic Imaging & Media Communications in 1995. At Bradford, he was Arts Editor of the university magazine, writing mainly about visual art, cinema, and music. He now works as a communications consultant specialising in new media technologies (Internet, interactive computing, multimedia). Mr. Whittaker is reading Art History part-time at Birbeck College, University of London.

 
According to the cultural movers and shakers, the style dictators, London is the number one place to be in the world right now. This message has been quietly asserting itself in the media for a while, but with typical British modesty, it was left to the Americans to make it 'official:' back in the 60's, it was Time magazine that proclaimed London 'The Swinging City;' the 90's saw Newsweek hail it 'the World's Coolest City.' With the international success of the YBA's (Young British Artists), the art world is also coming round to the same opinion, and the English capital's scene has more than matched the overall pace of the town's ascendancy. January's annual Art Fair will be a timely barometer for assessing the economic impact of this trend.
 
Immortalised on celluloid by Antonioni's 1966 film Blow Up, in the Swinging 60's London gave the world Hockney and Hodgkin; the Beatles, with their pop art album cover designed by Peter Blake; the Rolling Stones, and the mini skirt. Now British fashion designers hold an array of top jobs at couture houses all over Europe, it's still the world's biggest exporter of music, along with the U.S., but what about art? Where are the new stars of today who'll eventually become the grand old statesmen of the future? Is there anything left of the Bohemian spirit from 30 years ago to foster fresh talent?
 
The international boom of the 80's had a paradoxical effect on contemporary art. On the one hand, it inflated expectations beyond all reasonable measure: fresh out of college, artists were selling work for unsustainably high prices; they were encouraged by unscrupulous dealers to produce for an eager market, confident that everything would be snapped-up, regardless of such outdated notions as 'quality.' Art was touted as an investment, an opportunity for huge short-term returns provided you picked the right young prodigy. This increased the need for a faster turnover in artistic fashions, giving no time or space for genuine youthful ability to mature at its own pace. Unhelpful in fuelling this spiral of events were the likes of Charles Saatchi, the advertising magnate, whose tactics of buying out whole graduation shows, thus sending prices into orbit, left the artists high and dry a couple of years later when he then dumped the work as a job lot, that's if the budding master hadn't burnt out already.
 
On the other hand, a benefit of the 80's boom was to give artists the confidence to take charge of their own career: those who kept their heads, and weren't seduced by the glittering shortcuts to immortality, came through the heady years of inflation far stronger for the experience. They no longer depended on third party dealers to sell their work: artists' co-operatives sprang up, sharing facilities, overheads, possibly ideas and inspirations, but also importantly, costs; these small communities became a kind of insurance against the vicissitudes of the art market. Independent exhibition and dealing spaces also arrived, without the restrictions that face regular dealers in maintaining a stable of permanent artists: here shows were arranged on a one-off basis, giving the owner more incentive to host an unknown artist, and the artist an opportunity to build a range of flexible business relationships, only when both partners were comfortable with the deal. Damien Hirst's now famous Freeze exhibition in 1988, where he 'curated' a show of his own work, and that of college contemporaries, in an old factory rented cheap for the purpose, is only the most remembered of the period.
 
So with the market rising strongly again, have the players on both sides of the art world learnt their lesson? There is still a firm belief in the ability to succeed, even in such a precarious occupation, but there's also an almost universal recognition of both the necessities and benefits of other types of more regular work, such as teaching, and semi-skilled admin or labouring jobs. There is as well the confidence, or, depending on your opinion, the lack of direction and real artistic engagement, which leads to one person using a variety of media and approaches, such as painting, sculpture, video, and photography, rather than sticking to one and trying to define a signature style, develop a single personal aesthetic.
 
The figures who stepped out onto the world stage last time London held such a pre-eminent position, like Hockney, Freud, Kitaj, and Kossoff, are now those grand old men, and just as the different arts seemed closer together back then, notably visual art and music, it's probably no coincidence the same is happening again. Where David Bowie, Brian Eno, and Brian Ferry all embarked on careers in pop after art school, now we not only have Jarvis Cocker and the Britpop bands, but the YBA's are as likely to be directing videos for their musical friends as putting on their own shows. Coupled with the social atmosphere of the city, where gallery opening are the events at which to be seen, it is art, not comedy, that's "the new rock 'n' roll." This year's Art Fair comes as museum and gallery attendance figures are at record levels, the upmarket Harvey Nicholls store, just a handbag's throw from Harrods, has opened an 'art supermarket,' and artists' reputations are higher than ever. 80 galleries will be showing their wares, and it's hoped to beat last year's sales of ?2.5m, and 30000 visitors. Mr. Hirst will be represented, of course, and Turner Prize winner Douglas Gordon, with prices up to ?100000, but some dealers aren't expecting the earth: "Selling really wasn't the point. It was all about being there," said the blue chip dealer Bernard Jacobson of last year's event. "The public still aren't comfortable with contemporary art. But they feel less intimidated coming into your booth than your gallery." Rupert Otten, who won't be there again this year, was more scathing: "The audience is a smart, fashionable bunch, only interested in bright coloured things with an immediate appeal. No-one was keen on anything with an intellectual aspect." Matthew Flowers concurs with this view: "I don't think pure abstract work does well. Nor does difficult contemporary stuff."
A new section of people who will be there, however, is a range of the co-operatives, and 'artist-led spaces' mentioned above, who'll be housed in the 'Discovery Zone,' specially for fresh names and faces, separate from established dealers.
 
Art is, as everyone now knows, highly sensitive to broad trends in the general economy: it's one of the ultimate 'elastic goods.' When the current rise eventually levels off, and almost inevitably declines, at least artists should be better prepared for the fall, and until then, they're jolly well making the best of it. Judging by the cacophony of colours and credit cards, the waterfalls of wine and would-be connoisseurs, at the Art Fair's preview, there's still some legs in the market yet.