Gagosian: A Mistaken Identity

Who is this man?

This is Gagosian, the infamous Larry Gagosian of Gagosian galleries around the world…and how I’ve disdained him in the past with reverse snobbery. ‘Oh ho ho, Mr. Gagosian, must be easy to be a behemoth when you have everything. From one successful gallery to another, hop skipping and jumping across the art world, making stars of artists as you go. The gall with which he opened another gallery in Rome despite the downfall of the art market. Hah! Not for me, not after you tricked me with your multiple Manhattan galleries so that I missed the Cy Twombly exhibition in 2007. For me, let there be street art and collectives in dingy Brooklyn warehouses and such. Let creativity run rampant in bohemian poverty!’

And yet, Larry is apparently really Lawrence Gilbert. An Armenian-American born in Los Angeles in 1945, and his past is not what I thought. He hates press, and a recent article for Intelligent Life describes the difficulty of getting those who know him to talk about him. An entrepreneurial and clever businessman, Gagosian has made his fortune through good judgement, salesmanship, and showmanship. Gagosian got his start in the ‘art world’ by selling posters near UCLA’s campus. According to Wikipedia,

“In the early 1980s he developed his business rapidly by exploiting the possibilities of reselling works of art by blue-chip modern and contemporary artists, earning the nickname “Go-Go” in the process. Working in concert with collectors including Douglas Cramer, Eli Broad and Keith Barish he developed a reputation for knowing how to push prices upwards as well as for staging museum quality exhibitions.”

After establishing a New York gallery in the mid-1980s Gagosian began to work with a stable of super collectors and expand his gallery empire. Now he has three locations in New York City (on Madison Avenue, West 24th St. and 21st St.), two locations in London (on Britannia and Davies Streets), one location in Los Angeles (in Beverly Hills) and his latest in Rome.He represents the best and biggest names. When art and business come together, there you find Gagosian.

Art for arts sake, on the other hand? Doesn’t have a place in his world. So with additional respect for the man, I’ll keep my reservations and ideal of unfettered garret life.

ADDITION: For added spice on Larry, see this article describing a recent letter to staff telling them, in these tough economic times, to sell art or get out.

Coco Chanel and Edith Piaf: French Icons with Panache

Beware the women of Paris. They will chew you like a baguette, and down you with a sip of wine.

Formed by a hard childhood in poverty and wartime France, these two self-made women Coco Chanel, legendary house founder of Chanel, and Edith Piaf, “the little songbird” (at 4 feet 10 inches) exercised a severe dedication to their arts that led to international success and renown. Despite personal problems and society’s moral approbation, the designer and the singer fashioned themselves into the top people in their profession, in a style that was wholly their own.

I watched La Vie En Rose last night, a 2007 movie telling the tempestuous life of French singer Edith Piaf starring the excellent Marion Cotillard. The movie switches poetically between scenes of her childhood and her early death from liver cancer at 48 years of age, and I recommend seeing it. Born in 1915 to a mother who sang on the streets and later deserted her and a circus performer father who left her in a brothel where prostitutes cared for her until he took her to sing on the streets at 14, Edith had small prospects and no education. A club owner recognized the talent in the starving street urchin at age 20, and her fortunes begin to change. Along with success came tragic love affairs and morphine and alcohol addiction. The movie paints her as the ‘artiste’ throwing temper tantrums, and she retains a coarseness throughout her life. Edith was not always a pleasant person, but then neither was Coco when something blocked her shrewd plans (albeit Coco exhibited great self-control).

Perhaps this temperamental street brat doesn’t seem similar to Coco Chanel, educated in a convent and now the epitome of elegance? Yet the two aren’t linked merely by coming into the height of their power around the WWII, worldwide success and a close identification with that French je ne sais quoi.

As women, they overcame the social stigma of their origins, had affairs with rich and successful men and were left brokenhearted, and surpassed who they were as individuals by creating something bigger than themselves, seen today in their fascinating legends. In an age where women weren’t praised for grit or business acumen or unfailing dedication to art over home and family, these were women to be reckoned with. They weathered changing fortune not with happiness so much as triumph.

WWII found Paris overrun with Nazis. Coco had closed her shops in 1939 and took up residence in the Hôtel Ritz Paris, where she stayed through the Nazi occupation of Paris. During that time she was criticized for having an affair with a German officer/Nazi spy who arranged for her to remain in the hotel. The French despised her after that liaison. What did she do? Come out with a collection after the war the was a sensational hit in America.

Edith was a frequent performer at German Forces social gatherings in occupied France, and many people considered her a traitor. Following the war she claimed to have been working for the French resistance, but then she, and Coco, often lied about themselves. Despite the negative stigma, she remained a national and international favorite.

Small women of bad family and little education, they became enigmatic French icons. They became such with panache. It makes me want to stroll the banks of the Seine in Chanel humming Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien and nursing heartbreak with cigarettes and wine.

Alone In NYC? Nah…

New York Magazine has an article on why the city isn’t the lonely place it seems. But really, does this seem lonely to you?

Of course this is one crowded little island, but if you can struggle across a Grand Central subway platform at rush hour, or cross 5th avenue during the holiday season, or-God help you-go to Macy’s, the feeling you develop isn’t so much loneliness as misanthropy.

But then one day you might be surprised to find you feel a kinship with those around you, sitting singly or in pairs. After a while you develop a camaraderie of one who has survived the crowds, and still elected to eat your lunch on the grass at Bryant Park with a book as a companion. Who knows? You might even get a hug on these mean streets.