26 REDS & A BOTTLE OF WINE

Well, this weekend was The Armory Art Show here in New York. Or as I like to call it The New York Boat Show with pictures.

It’s a massive contemporary art fair, taking up two massive piers on the Hudson River and it typically sucks.

It actually was a massive disappointment this year. Especially after last year had been so good, maybe the best Armory I've ever been to. This year it was like everyone had been partying really hard and the midterm snuck up on them. "“Oh shit, Armory is next week, fuck! Help me stick some of these paintings in shipping boxes!" The New Yorker last week had a piece on Barnaby Furnas who '‘painted'’ (notice the quotes) the largest piece for the show for Marianne Boesky, daughter of disgraced greedy asshole Ivan Boesky (don’t worry, you’re too young to remember). That'’s pretty typical of Armory this year.

No sense of artistic direction? Feeling out staged by the Whitney Biannual? Well, just make the fucking thing huge!

There were some pieces from last year's Armory that I was surprised to see. Guess they didn't sell, which means that these fucking art collectors aren't doing their job. Art collectors are the dermestid beetls of the art world. Their job to clear away this mess so I don't have to look at it.

There were lots of good pieces of art, my favorite painters right now, Muntean/Rosenblum had two small paintings that were still way out of my price range and two of their giant drawings. The Chapman Brothers did some good work (for a change) but their were no surprises, no real new standouts. A lost weekend to be sure but that the price you pay when you love to look at pretty things.

PS - This post's title is actually something I overheard at Armory on Saturday.