For a confluence of reasons, we are in the midst of a tsunami of demand for art that is pent up like a horny teenager
Don’t shoot the messenger. When art equals money, passion and connoisseurship take a backseat, so to all my artist friends, sorry, call this a disclaimer. For a confluence of reasons, we are in the midst of a tsunami of demand for art that is pent up like a horny teenager.
The feeling of feeding the voracious appetites of “collectors” (that moniker is obsolete; maybe art market practitioners is better – as 99.9% of buyers sell) is like being stuck in the viscous undertow of desire.
Leon Black, who forked over $120m for The Scream, I doubt did it as act of vanity fair (or fare). What does that say? A stronger buy (buy, buy) sign I couldn’t fathom.
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The upcoming auctions in London next week will, I’m going on record as stating, will produce a few startling results. And the bigger sales in NY in November will amount to a golden fall, a plethora of falling auction records in a booming market in times of unprecedented world uncertainty and strife. Rather perverse, isn’t it?
Greatest bubble of them all in the making? Free money and scarce assets – art market set for new records and massive absolute number? I hope it doesn’t portend another kind of fall in the not too distant future. Two good (very good) years seem within reason in the light of current momentum.
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