Guggenheim
Article
Guggenheim is a recurring venue in the Collected Agenda archive, appearing 1 times across 1 issues between September 10, 2024 and September 10, 2024. The archive places it in contexts such as “a tastemaker on the board of the Guggenheim”. It most often appears alongside Anika Levy, Annabel Boardman, Antiart.
Metadata
- Category: Venues
- Mention count: 1
- Issue count: 1
- First seen: September 10, 2024
- Last seen: September 10, 2024
Appears In
Related Pages
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- Anika Levy (1 shared issues)
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- Annabel Boardman (1 shared issues)
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- Antiart (1 shared issues)
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- Artnet (1 shared issues)
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- August Lamm (1 shared issues)
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- Beckett Rosset (1 shared issues)
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- Betsey Brown (1 shared issues)
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- Bijan Stephen (1 shared issues)
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- Car Crash Collective (1 shared issues)
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- Cass Review of LA (1 shared issues)
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- Cassidy (1 shared issues)
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- Cassidy Grady (1 shared issues)
External Links
None.
Source Context
Recovered passages from the original issue text. When the raw archive preserved outbound links inside the source passage, they are listed directly under the quote.
WHAT I DID Thanks for reading Chloe Pingeon's Substack! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. Monday, September 2 I’ve been freelancing this summer, going back to school for a degree in cultural criticism. I'm hesitant to share any of this, I’m hesitant to share any purpose I have in mind for myself. I would like to tell people I spend my time lying listless in the sun. I tell a friend I’m getting my master’s in cultural criticism and he rolls his eyes. God, people like you need to be put out of your misery, he says. He’s a crude man, prone to social faux pas often intentional and sometimes not, and so I don’t take the thinly veiled death threat personally. I do balk in the face of the fact that I worry he might be right. I’ve been suspecting this for a while, actually. There’s a neurosis in my specific brand of ambition that turns it sordid when given too much thought. There’s a vulgarity in anything that too smugly equates fact and opinion. There’s a vulgarity in voyeurism. They don’t build statues of critics. Etc, etc, etc. I go to dinner late at The Knickerbocker. It’s my favorite restaurant, a better restaurant in winter, but my favorite nonetheless. Fall is in the air. You can really feel it here, where everything is dark wood and heavy steaks. I’m so sick of talking about the seasons. I woke up unhappy, but by evening everything is good. Tuesday, September 3 Evening, I’m at VERA’s panel on alternative art spaces at GONZO’S. Conor is moderating, and the alternative gallerists are talking about their alternative galleries. I’m familiar with most of the speakers, but there was only one seat left when I arrived, a bench in the corner and I probably shouldn’t have taken it but I did. From my corner, I can’t see the panel, but enjoy the anonymity afforded only to me. I can hear perfectly, but I have no idea who’s talking. The crux of the conversation centers around the morality and the logistics of these alternative spaces. Given my usual sensibilities, I am surprised that I am most interested in the economics of it all. A commercial gallery can be more interesting than a museum now, because a museum is beholden to its institutional backing. A commercial gallery is beholden only to the market, which has broader interests than a tastemaker on the board of the Guggenheim. An alternative gallery is beholden to… the artist, a different market, the same market but they’re a bit less beholden? A crime reporter turned Artnet reporter poses the question after the panel- besides a difference in commercial scale, how is an alternative gallery different from a blue chip gallery? He’s met with a slew of solid responses; different in the work they show, in the degree of risk taken on emerging artists, in the literal space they operate out of, which might be entirely unconducive to sales and profit. Afterwards, I try to smoke a cigarette on the Gonzo’s balcony and I’m asked to go outside. I go to a bar, I’m not drinking tonight, my friends go home and so do I. When I tell my boyfriend about the reporter's question, he rolls his eyes. Alt is a word you use to make obscure things relevant, he says. If you’re alt till you die, then you just never really made it. In the case of the artist, I think his point is often true. For a gallery, though, the things on the edges are always changing. Technically, one could champion the periphery forever, although longevity matters less with these things. Technically, too, everything one touched could turn to gold. Wednesday, September 4 Every gallery on Henry Street is having an opening tonight. I get there on the late side but it’s still like a block party outside, like Time Again this summer, like these are all the tiniest galleries in the world so there’s a few people milling inside but mostly everyone is on the street. In terms of the work, I like the Laurie Simmons show by far the best, but that isn’t really the point. There’s probably something to be said here about alternative galleries and about how these openings are actually fun and about how the crowds from each space here are spilling into each other and overlapping, but I can’t think of a point that’s not painfully obvious. These openings are actually fun. That’s kind of the thesis. Thursday, September 5 I’m reading at Confessions on Sunday. I write myself some prompts: I AM OVERFLOWING WITH GRATITUDE