"In the back court of an art fair like an 'aquoiboniste' * " by Eric Mircher

[This is a continuation of my translations of Eric Mircher's original articles.  Please read this introduction for the background behind this project.]

     A tennis match seen from the back court really has nothing to do with the same match seen from the umpire's chair or the game that is captured from above by the gliding eye of the camera.  It is the same game but at the same time three different matches with identical scores.  A question of point of view.  The contemporary art fair is like this game of multiple viewpoints, very different when seen from the back court, or rather, from the back of the booth.

     Contrary to what one might think, the majority of visitors who enter the booth of an art fair do not necessarily look first at the artwork displayed on the picture rail.  This is nonetheless the goal of their visit.  They look much more to the back of the booth and more particularly at the troop of people generally comprising the art dealer, the assistant and/or the intern.  It appears that this island of people is the first entity that is judged—the rendered judgement decides whether the booth is entered, and it works also as a refracted image of the artworks on the wall.  In nine out of ten cases, the art dealing team is eyeballed, gauged, questioned, all before any judgement is made on the work hung temporarily on the picture rails.  Once the unconscious signal is given, and no doubt from both sides, the regard of the visitor rises to the level of the work displayed to not leave it thereafter.  Sometimes, there is a pout of disapproval reaction to the work displayed, which is accompanied by an even greater pout of disapproval given in the direction of the art dealer.  It is the same in the case of an approval, but reversed.  The art dealer is and becomes fully responsible for that which is presented and eclipses for a brief moment the artist.  One at times may have the desire to flee, to say that one is not responsible for any of this.  This first reflex which consists in eyeballing the other before discovering that which surrounds him is at the end of the day quite common, here and elsewhere.  It's really a very animal behavior.  After an instant, both sides take a deep breath and the discussion can begin.  

     One could in this way class the visitors or the collectors in how each of them makes their definitive entry into the booth.  There are the jaded ones who enter without entering, like a distracted navigator coasting from one reef to another; there are those who enter in a determined manner because he knows and wants to confirm his knowledge.  A multitude of characters all fall in between these two extremes in this touching gallery of art lovers.  A common point unites them all, however: the tone of their voice.  Between silence and whispering, comments given in a hushed murmur, and much more rarely, a demonstrative surprise, it is clear that the history of images and its sacredness impregnates all comportment.  The display of any feeling is a serious affair and perhaps even dangerous.  The instant of the first sighting is always covered by a discourse made in more or less successful allegories.  It's a religious moment.

     The group of people in the back of the white cube often resembles often that which is on the wall.  A phenomenon of animal symbioses between a place and its inhabitants perhaps?  No doubt.  Unconscious exchanges, the timeframe of an art fair, between a life context and the humors of its temporary inhabitants?  Probably.  Preliminary choices made becoming the self-portrait of the art dealer? Apparently.

     The art fair seen from the back of the booth becomes a large window front animated by the incessant comings and goings of very different people who betray, by their regard and their way of looking, their lives, their doubts, their desires.  If there are no “small collectors”, neither are there “small lookers”.  As such, there are fair goers who collects papers, cards, announcements, as if to reassure themselves.  Others may refuse any documents provided, because they are in a hurry, and to accept anything is to make a commitment.  

     

     And finally, there are those who are glued to the work, leave, and then come back again.  In the middle of these different comings and goings, the office in the back court is like a reef: it may be a luxurious pontoon or a simple uncluttered rock.  Around it, the public is like a group of fish that pick at and nibble with their eyes the work displayed.  The white cube of the art fair booth is like an aquarium with the tidy schools of vigorous sardines all along the principle alley ways.  There remains the blowfish that dawdles and looks, makes a greeting, and then leaves again towards other visual pleasures.

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* “Aquoiboniste” –  impossible to translate into English directly, taken from a song by Serge Gainsbourg, from the French expression “à quoi bon”, literally “for what good”, used in interrogation.  Thus “aquoiboniste” would be someone who acts and speaks in a manner that conveys “what does it matter anyway?”

• Article written by Eric Mircher
• (Translated from French by Roy Forget)