“One thing is certain about the Armory Show: it’s hard to fall in love with a photograph here.” These words were spoken to me by a photographer I met during my visit. She hit the nail on the head. An art fair is impersonal. It’s like entering a zoo where the animals spot their finest accessories: suits, makeup, hats, black sunglasses and, of course, cell phones. When you love art, you go in timidly, not really knowing where to turn. Discovery has taken a backseat to spectacle, however insignificant it may be. You try to squeeze through a crowd that doesn’t know where it’s going, either. At the end of one aisle is the gallery I located on the map at the entrance, and this is where disappointment sets in: on the walls are simply a sample of the artist’s work, as if it were missing not just a section, but its very soul. When it comes to faith, there’s only a little of it left, and you can buy it for a few thousand dollars. Judging from the expressions on the the visitors’ and exhibitors’ faces, it seems like they all have lost faith. Is it the sluggish sales? Fatigue? Perhaps. But on the very first afternoon? I spent a lot of time looking at the art dealers and their assistants standing alone in the middle of their makeshift galleries, trying to catch the visitors’ eye. I felt this loneliness several times during the day, even as buyers and dealers celebrated a sale with a glass of champagne. At the Armory Show, it’s hard indeed to fall in love with a photograph. The love is in the images, as in the work of Leigh Ledare, who photographed his mother in almost pornographic poses. These are on view at the London gallery Pilar Corrias. It goes to show how indecency, too, can be sincere.
Jonas Cuénin
The Armory Show
March 7-10, 2013
711 12th Avenue
New York, NY 10019
USA
