Author: Michael Chappell

For all Americans, it is right and proper to stand with Orlando, and understand that the gay community there has, as have gays and lesbians worldwide, been the target of an unreasoning hatred and discrimination that continues to result in violent death.

While the widespread expressions of sympathy are certainly appropriate and well-meant, they do at their core very little to counter the larger issue- that hatred and violence in America is institutionalized, and that a hardcore of our citizenry, wrapping themselves in the Constitution, allow the public sales of weapons that serve no purpose than to kill our innocent fellows.

Xenophobic rhetoric does nothing but add to this climate of hate which, in this most recent incident, the gay and lesbian community has borne the brunt, but what of Sandy Hook? What of Virginia Tech? Terror was wrought by those whose unbalanced states of mind was given a means to an end by killing machines in the form of assault weapons easily obtained.

I grew up in a sporting family, where shotguns and rifles were around and used to hunt game. As a child, precedent to obtaining my first hunting license, I attended, along with my fellows, a hunter safety course prepared and sanctioned by the National Rifle Association. The takeaway from this course was- guns are lethal. There was no underlying political message, nothing to the effect that Americans have a sacred right to possess an assault rifle, an instrument of terror that, if used in its prescribed manner, could kill dozens of people with one sustained pull of the trigger.

What’s happened? Why do we now feel the political necessity to defend and continue without remorse to legally sanction the ease with which we are able to kill one another?

No one would deny the existence of enemies outside our borders, who, once inside, would seek to do harm. But that is beside the immediate point- what happened in Orlando, no matter how the story is spun, was mass murder committed with firearms purchased legally in this country.

The flags will soon be flown at full staff, the vigils will cease, and the gay freedom flag will be less prominent on social media. What will remain, though, unaffected by grief and mourning, is the ability to purchase assault rifles and the odds-on certainty of another Orlando.

The Tremper children- Elsie, Carson, Tobin, and Brycen- helping their elderly great uncle clean off family grave markers at Belmont Memorial Park in Fresno.

At the behest of my mother, this last weekend we went around to the local graveyards containing the mortal remains of past generations of family members. This was surprising, as my mother, heretofore, has not been a hunter of tombs, but with my eldest nephew- her grandson- and his four children- her great grandchildren- in tow, we set out.

Surprising, too, that my great nieces and nephews, ages 12, 9, 7, and 5 greatly enjoyed themselves. Mind you, they didn’t ask penetrating questions about their local forebears, but that this was an all-day event involving 4 cemeteries and that they helped clean and decorate every single family grave marker- well, let’s say that by at least this objective measure, they were engaged with what went on.

Me, too. Some of the graves I hadn’t been to in nearly 50 years, but in my very young life, it was with my own grandmother an annual event. She was a tiny and rather round lady, but she nevertheless was able to make and place a floral display on every marker. And no silk flowers she. Her own bountiful flower garden provided ample blooms, making before we set out the trunk of my grandfather’s Oldsmobile 98 a sight to behold.

Funny with all this, though, given the business we’re in, I think quite a bit differently about heritage. On the one hand, I value it and the material culture that is the product of heritage. On the other, I realize that we are all of us mortal, and that generations and the memory of man pass quickly. Consequently, when I see grave markers that were intended to if not to actually immortalize then to at least lionize and extend the  mortality of those memorialized I realize how ultimately futile the effort is. When we decorated the grave of my great great grandmother, whose memory was sacred to my own grandmother, whose memory is sacred to me, it was sad to see that it was the only grave nearabouts that was decorated.  My great great grandmother, a remarkable woman who crossed the continent with her husband in a wagon pulled by a single yoke of oxen, whose memory has by now nearly faded into the mists of time.

Or has it? With our jaunt to the graveyards last Saturday, the most recent generation of my family will now have some sense of their own heritage. What will it gain them, I wonder? It might only be the prospect of an event occurring no more than annually, performed out of some vague sense of obligation to someone they once knew and esteemed. Perhaps though it will also lend their lives a sense of greater depth and meaning, with the knowledge that their here and now was at least partly formed by others known to them at a remove of sometimes a number of generations. Perhaps this will then form something of a larger philosophy, that in fact they are connected with a world broader and more significant than those satisfactions immediately gained by watching TV or playing video games or sending text messages.

Still not so old and not so jaded- no chortling from the back of the house- but where I find Jesse Helms’ tirade about the work of Robert Mapplethorpe an anachronism from the benighted days of the Moral Majority, Mapplethorpe’s work itself is as freshly, vivaciously intense now as it was- my goodness- 40 years ago. Astonishing, isn’t it?, how and what achieves canonical status, while its criticism becomes period buffoonery.

Initially, my enjoyment of the new documentary ‘Mapplethorpe: Just look at the pictures’ was as it served primarily a nostalgic walk down my own memory lane. Too many paid the price for the gay hedonism of the ‘70’s and early ‘80’s, but no one who’s honest would say it wasn’t fun, and it was. Senator Helms castigation of Mapplethorpe’s work, with his ‘Just look at the pictures!’ on the floor of the US senate a ranting, prima facie indictment of the photographs beyond which, he reasonably assumed, no further discussion was necessary, indicates his place in a terrifyingly marginal world much more limited, ironically, in its outlook and experience than the one he sought to demonize.

The fact is, gay sex was then, in the early years of liberation, overwhelming celebratory, and I just don’t see any of the Mapplethorpe images, whether erotic or not, anything less than ecstatic. And if that ecstasy and celebration spilled over into what one might euphemistically term some of the byways of sexual expression why, after centuries of repression, would one expect anything else?

Keith and I had a vague connection with Mapplethorpe, and indeed yet maintain a friendship on social media with mutual acquaintance ‘That Boy’ Peter Berlin, himself interviewed for the documentary. Both though, were successful in their lifetimes as flagrant self promoters, but pulchritude wanes, and Peter has seen a revolution of the clock hands- as have I- a very many times. This sounds as though I am implying that Mapplethorpe’s images are, with his death in1989, trapped in time, representative only of the era in which they were taken, and, frankly, that’s not the case. Mapplethorpe wasn’t a tremendous photographic technician. Indeed, he required a substantial amount of assistance in the darkroom and processing to yield the types of images his best work represents. But with all that, he was a master at framing a picture and selecting subject matter, with his work, even his still lives, maintaining an energy that lifts the images out of any time.  We know that, because we can still take Senator Helms’ cue- ‘Just look at the pictures!’ Old and jaded I may be- ‘may be’ I said- but looking at Mapplethorpe’s work yet remains a pure pleasure.

‘Mapplethorpe-“Just look at the pictures!”’ on HBO Documentaries

‘Robert Mapplethorpe: The Perfect Medium’ at the Getty Center, through July 31, 2016

TEFAF Maastricht has come and gone, and not yielding much more than a ripple, apparently, in the world’s art market. Mind you, all this occurred with a too close for comfort backdrop consisting of the terrorist activity in Brussels- a transit point for many attendees. A profound tragedy, its terrible effects doubtless also impacting all manner of business, certainly including the art and antiques trade.

Concomitant with Maastricht, though, is the release that’s become now an annual tradition, the art market report prepared by Dr. Clare McAndrew. About the only thing of its kind detailing trends in the international trade in art and antiques, I have always been a skeptic of the report as its commission by the body that governs Maastricht seemed, in its questions and format, skewed toward a confirmation of the necessity of art fairs- particularly Maastricht- and their overall success for those who participate in them. Well, I suppose everyone has a living to make, and Dr. McAndrew, as the saying goes, must dance with the one who brought her.

Still, the difficulties that everyone in the trade has faced over the last year, and indeed is still facing and will face for the foreseeable future, and the reasons for them are no surprise, and indeed borne out by the art market report. China’s present economic travails have had a devastating effect on the global trade, with an enormous contraction of sales to the formerly burgeoning Chinese market. The knock-on effect of the slowing Chinese economy, though, has wrought an overall impact on the global economy, now teetering on, if not already entered into, recession.

All this has moved everything, including contemporary art, very much off the boil.  More than any other industry, the art and antiques trade depends on the perception of wealth. Are the wealthy now unable to afford what is for all intents and purposes the luxury goods, the subset of which is the entirety of the stock in trade of all galleries, auction houses and private dealers? Well, frankly, no. But then, I have never, ever seen anyone who has traded with us encash an investment to make a purchase- everything is dependent on ready cash. Moreover, that ready cash is kept at the ready when the punter is feeling flush.  While one may debate the extent of the global economic slowdown, we can all agree that it is suffering a case of the jitters. Under that circumstance, the ready cash our buyers are willing to part with feels, unfortunately, more comfortable for the time being remaining in the buyers’ wallets than it does invested in what it is we have to sell.

Addendum: Cheyenne Westphal, Sotheby’s worldwide head of contemporary art, announced her departure after 25 years with the auction house as part of the company’s ongoing staff reductions in an effort to shore up its bottom line. Read more at Bloomberg Business.

Leon Lock is one of the most intelligent and urbane men of my acquaintance- a gentleman in every sense of the word, whose friendship I’ve had for nearly 20 years since the time we were doctoral students in the department of the history of art at University College London. Since 2002, Dr Lock has been the director of the Low Countries Sculpture Society in Brussels, itself an expression of the sophistication and civility that marks arguably the most civilized region of our troubled planet.

It is contrasted with this that we witness the tragedy that befell Brussels this morning, wrought with an eye toward the commission of a barbarous act that sets the pace of humanity back 1,000 years. With Europe’s open borders an expression of an attempt to overcome ethnic divisions that predate history, this act of terrorism will doubtless work to slow, if not stifle, a model for liberality the entire world should emulate. Indeed, the present ‘Brexit’ debate and those favoring it in the United Kingdom were certainly given impetus by what happened today.

Sadly, it is not only the Boris Johnson’s of the world who seek insularity as the cure for all international ills, but here at home, Donald ‘Torquemada’ Trump is renewing calls for the use of torture to prise secrets from terrorists. And with this, we must all realize, the terrorists have won. While we may seek to foil terrorist plotting, its response by a benighted few may succeed in prising from the rest of us not just our liberties but the better angels of our nature.

In 2005, I was in London’s West End at the time of bombings. Indeed, the bus that blew up was just around the corner from Gordon Square- the heart of University College London. I remember well, with the consequent cessation of public transportation, walking back from Bond Street along Bayswater Road, returning to our flat in Notting Hill. Keith and I shared this walk with thousands of others, and we were struck at the time with the doggedness of it, the determination to literally and figuratively put one foot in front of another, getting on with the business of life.

I pray that Leon Lock is unhurt by today’s terrible events, but likewise pray for those who are not. But I also pray that the better world the best people in the world seek to create is not forever scuttled.

Addendum:

Leon has emailed to say he’s fine, but his office on Trierstraat is only 20 metres,  a mere stone’s throw,  from the bombed Maelbeek metro station.