(Bloomberg) — It’s a small art fair saddled with massive expectations.
Well before it opened on Wednesday, Paris+ par Art Basel had become a symbol of Paris’s ascendance as a contemporary art capital. London, the story goes, is hobbled by self-inflicted economic wounds, while Paris is newly business-friendly, filled with fresh galleries, and ready to return to its 19th century cultural dominance.
Within that framing, the success (or failure) of the fair’s first edition, which runs through Sunday, Oct. 23, could be seen as a bellwether for the city’s art scene as a whole. If it does well, it’s a sign that Paris is back. If not … tant pis.
It’s a neat narrative, and perhaps it’s even partially accurate. But as the doors opened promptly on Wednesday at 10 a.m. inside the Grand Palais Éphémère, a temporary structure used for events while the Grand Palais is renovated, dealers being dealers were mostly concerned with the pragmatics of how much art would be sold, and to whom.
“I think it’s a banality to say that Paris is the place to be nowadays due to Brexit, even though it’s true,” says the French dealer Jérôme Poggi, whose Paris gallery is located next to the Pompidou Center. “I’ve received many messages from collectors around the world saying they’d be coming to Paris, and usually they don’t, they go to Frieze,” last week’s art fair in London, where both dealers and attendees were as preoccupied by how this new art fair would go as much as they were by the strength of the dollar in relation to the pound.
Poggi’s booth was filled with contemporary art but also showcased a €2.5 million painting by Edvard Munch from 1911. He had sent out a preview of what he planned to bring to the fair to collectors, and immediately sold three works before the fair even opened—one to an American, two to people in France. As a consequence, he says, he had to scramble to fill his stand with fresh, unsold art before the fair opened.
But, he adds, he’s not overly focused on sales. “I’m not into that,” he says. “I find it very vulgar.”
A Very French Fair
Paris+ par Art Basel (an unwieldy name, and one that almost no one uses, instead simply calling it “Paris+” or “Art Basel Paris”), began in a swirl of intrigue. The stalwart Paris fair FIAC, which took place every year a few weeks after Frieze, was blindsided when the cultural organization that oversees the Grand Palais opened FIAC’s slot to a public competition, which it then lost out to Art Basel.
After Art Basel’s new fair was announced in late January, the organization, which is a subsidiary of MCH Group AG, had nine months to pull it together. “There’d been a fair amount of pessimistic speculation about this,” says Marc Spiegler, the global director of Art Basel, speaking a day before the fair opened. “You know, everybody wants progress, but nobody wants change.”
The goal, Spiegler continues, was to keep the regional flair of the French fair, but attract an international swath of collectors who’d perhaps stayed away from FIAC.
“We have a contractual obligation to the Ministry of Culture as part of our deal, to maintain the same level of French galleries in the fair as FIAC had before,” Spiegler says. That said, Art Basel “has more than 30 people working with VIPs all over the world,” he continues, “and you’ll see that reflected in who shows up to the fair this week.”
The fair’s first day opened to a calm, comparatively subdued line of well-dressed collectors who shuffled, unhurriedly, through the doors. But after a few hours had passed, aisles and booths for the fair’s 156 galleries were packed with people speaking what felt like an equal division of French and English.
“It’s very Haussmannian,” says Francois Trausch, the CEO of Allianz Real Estate GmbH, standing in one of the fair’s aisles and talking of the new fair in general. “Very well-organized.”
His companion, the consultant and arts patron Alexandra de Royere, says that they began their day in the back of the building, where younger, somewhat emerging galleries are grouped. “We started with the young galleries, because we wanted to see two artists,” she says, “but all the big collectors were there.”
The fair, she adds, is filled with “big collectors, and not just French ones.”
Smaller galleries’ booths were indeed swept through. “Sales are going well,” says Alexander Hertling, standing in the booth of his Paris-based gallery Balice Hertling. He points to a €15,000 work by the artist Zhi Wei, which he says “we could have sold five times.”
Similarly, Hertling says that “people are fighting right now” over a €35,000 ($34,179) painting by the highly sought-after French artist Pol Taburet; contenders, Hertling says, include multiple Parisian museums. “We’re going to have to figure it out,” he says.
There was similar enthusiasm in the front of the building, where the mega-galleries were clustered.
There, the dealer Thaddaeus Ropac, who has gallery locations in Paris, London, Salzburg, and Seoul, says that he’d brought “more important works this year for Paris, which we’d normally consider for Art Basel,” referring to the original Swiss edition held in June. In the first hours of the fair, he sold “three or four” paintings by Georg Baselitz for €100,000, a sculpture by Antony Gormley for £450,000, and a hyper-realist sculpture by Ron Mueck for $850,000.
“I sometimes felt that London is a business place and transactional, and Paris was more about the beauty of the place,” Ropac says. “And this changed, because transactions are much easier here now than they used to be.”
Other large galleries say that they notched similarly robust sales.
David Zwirner says it sold over $11 million worth of art on the first day, including a $4.5 million painting by Joan Mitchell from 1989 and a 1963 work by Robert Ryman for $3 million.
Hauser & Wirth reported nine sales including paintings by George Condo for $2.65 million, Avery Singer for $800,000, and Rashid Johnson for $1 million; each of these, the gallery says, was painted this year.
So: did the fair’s day-one success mean that Paris is now the continent’s cultural king?
“The fact that Art Basel is here is very good for our business,” says Sarah Lévénès, a director at Marcelle Alix, a gallery in Paris’s Belleville neighborhood, which had a booth filled with work that ranged from about €2,750 to €32,000. On an international scale, “Art Basel is doing a great job calling collectors and making Paris attractive, and that’s good for us too.”
Even a week before the fair, her gallery held an opening that was attended by Chinese, American, and British collectors, she says. “We met new people, and had a great exchange.”
Perhaps, Ropac suggests, the fair’s success could mean that Paris is simply more appealing to visit for a few days.
“In the last few years London just had a more international crowd, with American collectors, and this year it’s reversed,” he says. “It doesn’t matter where you do it, it matters if you have the players. And they’re here, now.”
Why those AI-generated portraits all over social media have artists on edge – CBC.ca
As It Happens6:03Why those AI-generated portraits all over social media have artists on edge
Greg Rutkowski makes his living creating detailed fantasy art depicting epic scenes of swords and sorcery.
He labours for hours on his freelance illustrations for major gaming titles like Dungeons & Dragons, Magic: The Gathering and Horizon: Forbidden West.
But an art generator powered by artificial intelligence can churn out a decent reproduction of his style in mere seconds.
“I was terrified that it was being made so quickly, and with really better results over time,” Rutkowski told As It Happens host Nil Köksal.
Rutkowski, who is based in Piensk, Poland, is one of many artists speaking out about the dangers of AI-generated art as the technology becomes more precise, accessible and popular.
These AIs are often trained on datasets, or collections, of millions of images scraped from the internet, including ones that are copyrighted or watermarked. But the artists who created them never consented for their work to be used — and they don’t get a cut of the profit.
“We could say that, ethically, it’s stealing,” Rutkowski said.
The problem with those pretty avatars
Rutkowski’s name is one of the most popular prompts on the AI art generator Stable Diffusion, which launched in August, according to Technology Review.
Stable Diffusion works like this: You type in a phrase or list of keywords describing the type of image you’d like to see, and then the AI generates an image that fits the description.
For example, you could write: “Powerful wizard battles fire-breathing dragon Greg Rutkowski” and get an illustration that, at first glance, looks like something Rutkowski drew himself.
According to the website Lexica, which tracks Stable Diffusion images and prompts, Rutkowski’s name has been used as a prompt more than 93,000 times. Some of the generated images even have his signature, he said.
“I was really confused for people that were searching or exploring art and then came across images that weren’t mine, but were signed by my name,” he said.
Enter Lensa, the app that’s been taking over Facebook and Instagram feeds in recent weeks.
This photo-editing app has been on the market for some time, but has recently seen a surge in popularity when it launched a new feature powered by Stable Diffusion.
A user can upload a handful of selfies, and Lensa will generate a series of avatars in different artistic styles. For $7.99 US, you can get 50 unique portraits.
Karla Ortiz, a San Francisco-based concept artist, says people using apps like Lensa need to understand that the avatars they’re getting are the product of real labour by millions of uncompensated artists.
“I think they need to understand that those images look really good because artists’ work was stolen to make it good,” she said.
Ortiz first noticed her work showing up in AI datasets months ago on smaller, niche software. But she says it really exploded with the launch of Stable Diffusion.
“I found a lot of my work there. Almost every artist I know who’s a peer, who’s a professional, who’s been working for a while, whose work is recognizable, was in those datasets,” she said.
“Furthermore, I started seeing that people were using our full names to generate imagery.”
She says none of the companies that have used her work to train their AI models have contacted for permission. But even if she could somehow force them to extract her work from their datasets, it wouldn’t really matter.
“The way that machine learning, you know, works, you can’t even take it out. You can’t unlearn your work once it’s trained,” she said.
Neither Stability AI, the company that created Stable Diffusion, nor Prisma Labs, the company behind Lensa, responded to a request for comment from CBC.
Prisma Labs defended its AI art on Twitter, stating that AI-generated images “can’t be described as exact replicas of any particular artwork.”
“As cinema didn’t kill theatre and accounting software hasn’t eradicated the profession, AI won’t replace artists but can become a great assisting tool,” Prisma tweeted.
“We also believe that the growing accessibility of AI-powered tools would only make man-made art in its creative excellence more valued and appreciated, since any industrialization brings more value to handcrafted works.”
Is it legal?
Rutkowski and Ortiz are still considering what steps to take next. But whether they have any legal resources remains unclear.
Ken Clark, an intellectual property lawyer with Toronto-based law firm Aird and Berlis, says copyright infringement is a deeply complex subject, and the laws around it were crafted long before the proliferation of AI.
“You have to ask yourself: Who’s doing the creating? Is it the person who is smart enough to create the computer software to go and analyze things … or is it the artist who you’re taking these ideas from, right, in such a way that you’ve substantially reproduced their work?” he said.
But one thing is clear, he said. You can’t copyright a “style” of work, only a piece of work itself.
Daniel Anthony, a trademark and copyright lawyer with Toronto-based Smart & Biggar LLP, agrees.
“We can replace AI with a human as a thought exercise. If a human reviewed many photos and learned a style of an artist and then produced their own work from scratch in that style, it is not an infringement,” he said in an email.
“Indeed, copyright is intended to inspire other creators, provided they make their own versions. Therefore, at its core, what these artist AI software does is likely not infringing.”
But that doesn’t mean an individual artist couldn’t make a case against these companies.
“If the AI-produced work is ‘changed enough’ from any original source input, it will be very hard for the artist to claim infringement. However, if the AI work is substantially similar to any artists’ prior work (such that it appears to be copied), then infringement may be present and legal remedies would likely be available,” Anthony said.
Legal or not, it’s ethically dubious, says Karina Vold, a University of Toronto associate professor who specializes in the philosophy of science and technology.
“At a minimum, companies should seek informed consent for the data that they use to train their machine learning algorithms,” Vold said in an email.
“When it comes to works of art, these are not public property just because they may be publicly available online.”
Artists are losing money
Ortiz, who works for big corporate clients, says she’s not losing work to AI. But she says most smaller-scale artists that she knows are feeling the burn.
“I have a friend of mine from Romania. She was telling me a lot of illustrators there do a lot of work for musicians, and they’re losing out now. They’re cancelling commissions left and right because a lot of these musicians are just using [AI-generated art] as covers,” she said.
Rutkowski says anyone who makes digital art could be impacted. Some organizations, including the San Francisco Ballet, are already using AI-generated art in their promotional materials.
“We get into this industry using our skills to sort of create better visual designs for movies, for games, for book covers,” Rutkowski said. “And right now it’s being replaced by AI-generated images.”
Malczewski painting becomes Poland's most expensive art sale after going for 17 million zloty – Notes From Poland
McPherson Library art opening
The new exhibition explores relationships and togetherness
When you walk into the McPherson Library, your first thought would rarely be about the art that’s displayed beneath it. However, tucked in the lower level is the Legacy Maltwood Gallery, a space dedicated to artists and their works.
On Nov. 25 the McPherson Library held an opening reception for Shaping Relations, Tethered Together, a new collection of art housed in the Legacy Maltwood Gallery that explores relationships and togetherness.
The event celebrated the exhibition by emerging Edmontonian curator Mel Granley. They are Metis on their mom’s side and a fourth generation Ukrainian settler on their dad’s side. The UVic alumni, now works as a guest curator at the Art Gallery of Greater Victoria.
The event began with Granley reading their curatorial statement. They spoke about how relationships hold an important place in every individual’s life. Shaping Relations, Tethered Together aims to explore this by highlighting BIPOC work, experiences, and relationships.
The exhibition was originally curated for the First People’s House in 2019, however it was delayed until early 2020 and then again due to the pandemic. Three years later, Granley was finally able to see their first show open.
A lot of the art in the exhibition is from the Legacies collection which belongs to the university. The collection includes a variety of mediums and is interdisciplinary in nature. The works range from ceramics, a video piece, and charcoal work to prints, posters, and a magazine.
Rain Cabana-Boucher, whose art is included in the exhibition, also spoke at the event. Cabana-Boucher is a Michif and British artist from Saskatoon and a recent recipient of the Takao Tanabe Prize for emerging British Columbian painters.
Cabana-Boucher’s piece French Exit was made in April 2021. The charcoal piece is about losing community spaces during the pandemic. The work was inspired by one of many parties that Cabana-Boucher attended at a friend’s apartment, where a lot of her friends during university met and interacted. These were queer parties where everyone knew each other and created a safe space. In the piece, Cabana-Boucher wanted to convey the longing she felt for those places and the feeling of isolation that queer people and everyone experienced during the beginning of the pandemic.
Granley and Cabana-Boucher also spoke about the relationship between an artist and a curator and the possibility for a power imbalance between them. The curator is an arbitrator of whose art is shown, yet their relationship is mutually beneficial. Maintaining relationships with artists is essential for curators to showcase art to their community. As well, working together to apply for grants and supporting each other has helped both Granley and Cabana-Boucher to grow in their own careers as curator and artist respectively.
Before the reception came to an end, Granley invited the crowd to ask questions. One attendee asked, “When you were looking through the collection, what were you looking for? What was attracting you to different pieces?”
“I was looking for what I can see and perceive as relationships,” Granley responded. “The show is filtered through my bias of what a relationship is.” They explained that with around 20,000 pieces in the Legacy database, finding BIPOC artists to feature in the collection was a challenge. “[They] have a lot of colonial remnants in them so it is difficult to unravel all the layers of the museum,” Granley said. They tried to not only find relationships but celebrate BIPOC relationships in a non-voyeuristic way. As a result, many BIPOC works were included without labels. Granley felt it was important to avoid imposing their voice on the work, since they can’t speak to where the artists are coming from or why they made the work.
Granley also talked about an upcoming exhibition called Symbiosis that they are working on at the Art Gallery of Greater Victoria. The collection is all about mushrooms and will open in late March of 2023.
Cabana-Boucher also has a new show in the works for next year as part of her residency at the Polygon Gallery in North Vancouver. She is also an artist in residence at the Contemporary Art Gallery of Vancouver which is a research-based residency for which she is working on a podcast.
Canada’s immigration backlog has decreased to 2.2 million – Canada Immigration News
Why those AI-generated portraits all over social media have artists on edge – CBC.ca
Malczewski painting becomes Poland's most expensive art sale after going for 17 million zloty – Notes From Poland
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