Sarah Thornton, Seven Days in the Art World

Citation:

Thornton, Sarah. Seven Days in the Art World. New York: W.W. Norton & Company Ltd, 2009. Print.

Summary:

Seven Days in the Art World is an introspective, ethnographically written account about seven different facets of the high art world written by sociologist Sarah Thornton. The book is broken down into seven chapters, each exploring one of these facets:  The Auction, The Crit, The Fair, The Prize, The Magazine, The Studio Visit, and The Biennale. It is in depth account of something that is an entire world of its own, the high art world, something that remains foreign to those residing outside of its complicated and often sickening intricacies. In the introduction Thornton claims that, “ it is important to bear in mind the art world is much broader than the art market” (xii), yet I believe that this book focuses much more on the workings of the art market than anything else, and could have benefitted in bearing that as its title. She also claims that “If the art world shared on principle, it would probably be that nothing is more important than the art itself” (xiii), a claim that is heavily debatable after reading the text, which in totality suggests that there is much more that is of higher importance than the work of art, like the social status of the collector or the dealer. It is important for emerging artists to know about this text and the high art world so they can evaluate their own aspirations and where they want to belong in the bigger picture; for me I am glad we read this text because it definitely caused me to re-evaluate my own preconceptions, and revealed to me that I, although I want to be a practicing artist, want to avoid this superficial, shallow, and complicated high art world, and probably for the better.

Response:

This entire text was nauseating to say the least, although I am very glad to have read it. To me it illustrates a world (the high art market) that I really don’t picture myself belonging to…it revolves around shallow, superficial business and the reputations of those in “power” with enough money to wipe their ass with. This world is not the reason I am making art, and is a world that removes all that I see as romantic, magical, mysterious, and distinctive from the reality of art making. It has proven to me that I would much rather make a smaller difference in the lives of those who aren’t interested in this world…sure, I would love popularity as an artist and the ability to show my work to a variety of audiences in a variety of places, and I’m hoping to be a “professional” artist and art professor, but I’d rather reach fewer people with my art and have it retain integrity than become some big-name artist whose work only sells to benefit the reputation of who’s collecting it. The art that I find most compelling resides outside this high-art world…its often DIY, shown in small galleries, occasionally crafty, but it retains integrity, love, passion, and the time that has been invested into it…which to me is priceless. Is this kind of art practical to make a living off of? Maybe, maybe not.  But this is the kind of art I appreciate and it resides in a world I much prefer in comparison the foreign world illustrated in this text. 

 “Even if the people here tonight were initially lured into the auction room by a love of art, they find themselves participating in a spectacle where the dollar value of the work has virtually slaughtered its other meanings” (39)…This quote sums up the entire first chapter, and for me it sums up the entire book. Although it was entertaining, if that’s what you can call it, to read about the typical high-end art auctions, the first chapter was the most nauseating chapter of the entire text for me. For the art collectors that participate in auctions such as this one which took place at Christie’s, the art is dwindled to a mere reflection of the collector’s reputation and so-called self-worth…the romance that could potentially make up the art is obliterated, and often the artist is reduced to a name, a machine that makes a commodity the exists only for the status of the collector once sold and purchased. The content of the art is glazed over, the original motive of the artist is completely ignored…the artwork is now a luxury and a status symbol. This was revealed throughout the entire text. So I wonder, how does this new and secondary meaning (its dollar value) affect the work of art? Does the art suffer because of this? And do people have false illusions of the art because of the status attached to it? Most likely, yes.

And what drives the prices of the artwork to such a high value? Is the price determined by the quest of ownership of the original (Walter Benjamin??)? Or by the quest of a competitive, “desirable,” money-fueled reputation?

As aspiring artists should we be repelled or motivated by this status-filled art market that can often obliterate the original drive to make art in the first place? What prize exactly should we have our eye on?

How should the art market affect what is produced, if it should affect what’s produced at all? Does this market reflect the quality of a work of art or just the status of the various collectors just playing the game?

                 

However, I did find chapter 2—The Crit—to be much more interesting and closer to home for me as an art student. I really appreciated the way Leslie Dick—a writer and professor at CalArts who Thornton interviewed—verbalized the way I’m currently feeling: “Why come to grad school? It’s about paying a lot of money so you can change. Whatever you thought was certain about how to make art is dismantled. You wobble. You don’t make any sense at all. That’s why you are here,” (50). And, I would love to participate in a full-day critique like the ones Michael Asher is famous for.