Red Dot Fair, photo copyright Red Dot
If locating even a mediocre work of art finds its equivalent in needle in a hay sack similes you can count me out of reporting on that fair. As such Red Dot, a fair characterized by way too much bad art in cramped hotel rooms, won’t receive much in the way of substantive art coverage from me. They did however inspire the following label essay.
The Labels and Art in hotels
Virtually any clear sticky label becomes a source of ridicule when affixed to anything other than a wall. Observe the above wall label stuck to the corner of a bed sheet. I know. hilarious.
Alberto Toscano’s 16 peeling labels identify the same numbered polymer clay pieces above at Raw. I didn’t photograph the slightly wonky hanging pictures above, which was perhaps a mistake, but I’m guessing you can live with it.
Note the Bermuda triangle of labeling created between the Kohler logo at the back of the toilet, and the captioning information for Peter Scarbo Fawley’s work. Perfectly laid out on the tank above, the gallery labels present an odd sense of doom. Or something.
Mumford Fine Art puts together a fine spread in the tube, presumably with the intention that viewers would take home the print outs. It didn’t work.
Daring! Andrea Schwartz displays with no labels! I asked the gallery director the rational for this, and he told me that it “opens up a dialog.” I’m sure all kinds of fruitful conversation has come from Tina Vietmier’s paintings unlabeled art works, but I’m using it to close off the post anyway because its silence tell us something. We’re still working on what that is.
P.S. Wilde Gallery displays very stinky flowers. I thought I was smelling really bad perfume or incense before realizing I just don’t like the smell of lilies.