First Thoughts on the Toronto International Art Fair (1/4)

In between days spent attending the Toronto International Art Fair on behalf of Map Magazine, I’ve been spending the evenings unwinding with the most recent episodes of Doctor Who. In keeping with Russell T. Davies’ postmodern take on the original’s camp values by way of melodramatic angst, The Doctor relates how the ubiquitous evil of his long-standing nemesis, The Master, was caused by the trauma of gazing into the Untempered Schism, that rip in time and space wherein fledgling Time Lords glimpse eternity, with mixed results: ‘Some would be inspired. Some would run away. And some would go mad.’

Art fairs are certainly not so cataclysmic as the Untempered Schism, but I reckon the comparison stands. Inspiration, cowardice and madness are the typical risks of being compelled to see too much at once.

Apart from that, what we’ve got is an art fair like most any other, with the usual labyrinth of white booths cradling largely two-dimensional art ranging anywhere from the embarrassingly naive to the simply spectacular, with that scarce handful of stuff so clever you want to bundle it up and quietly get it out of this mad, mad place for its own sake.

All presided over, of course, by sharply-tuned dealers and spectators speaking their particular brand of franglais and snapping the low hum of art fair murmuring with the obnoxious sound of cheek-kissing. The greatest density of this activity was among the ‘Fresh Avant-Garde’ booths, which somehow drained a great deal of their otherwise authentic credibility - you want fresh and edgy, how about slipping someone the tongue for a change? Now that’s avant-garde.

This is the sort of situation that tends to bring out my sense of alienation from the unfortunate professionals of the art world who have lost sight of content in favour of marketing. For all that, however, there are moments of clarity to be found in these events: the strong showing by Canadian galleries, while perhaps not in an international spirit, was uplifting to say the least, as was Jerry Saltz’ frank assessment of the contemporary art world in this afternoon’s keynote lecture.

As both an artist and a writer, I can honestly say that inspiration wasn’t lacking at TIAF. But key among those inspirations was Jerry’s rallying call for honest criticism, so a wider net needs casting here, one that takes up the fear and the madness right alongside those inspirational moments. Those impressions will be dispensed in blog-friendly portions over the next few days.

(Tomorrow: Here come the drums…)

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