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Juergen
Teller gets his cock out, repeatedly
Lucky
readers may have received a full frontal private view
card by Juergen Teller in recent months, and may or
may not have opted to use it to play a XXX version of
pin the tail on the donkey (microscopes advisable).
Mercifully Herr Teller’s current exhibition(ism) is
restricted to a small mall in Milton Keynes, meaning
that 99.9% of the recipients of ArtRumours are spared
the spectacle. But let us, if we can bear it, pause
for a moment to consider this artistic watershed, this
sudden desire to show and tell(er). It will be recalled
that the German photographer began redirecting the flash
away from celebrities and onto flashing his own privates
shortly after commencing a liaison with Sadie Coles.
And who is the most lucrative artiste in the HQ stable?
Let us reconsider the themes in evidence at Milton Keynes:
football, lager, crotch shots, garden gnomes… should
someone tell Teller that he’s being repackaged as a
sculpture by Sarah Lucas? Roll on the Frieze Art Fair!
Titanic
Ever
keen to keep up on the canape circuit, Artrumours has
been asked to test a new product: Chicken Bal-Tikka.
To compensate for the alleged £1 million deficit, Newcastle’s
buzzing but bankrupt kunstverein is planning to cut
out the middleman (contemporary art) and present a series
of themed restaurants on all five exhibition floors
- sure to be a hit with the locals. Applications are
currently being sought for a maitre d’ and celebrity
chef to get the building back in the black. Only one
woman can straddle Baltic’s incarnations past and present…
Nigella Lawson, step forward please… But really, nails
are almost being chewed in the perplexity of wondering
which visionary curators will be insane enough to apply
for the poisoned chalice that is the Baltic directorship:
Declan ‘big ‘tash’ McGonagle? Stephen ‘is that a suit
or a sheet of Bacofoil’ Snoddy (‘yes, that’ll be a giant
plaster cast of Juergen Teller’s cock on the top floor
please’)? man of the north, Anthony Gormley? or could
it herald the long-awaited return of Lars Nittwit? Of
course ArtRumours is holding out for Ivan Massow, but
look closely, folks: the truth is out there… Nostradamus
predicts that it is only a matter of time before Gateshead
sees the arrival of White Cube 3.
Oh,
and on that note
New
Alpha Male threatens Jopling monopoly over Hoxton harem
Incredible but true. The dashing Tim Marlowe (21),
intrepid arts anchorman of Channel 5, has been poached
by White Cube to be the new Head of Exhibitions. It’s
enough to make your hair stand on end. But hey, Marlowe’s
already does. ArtRumours wonders if the two gents will
squabble over more than just hair gel.
Tate
Britain brings history to life
In
a spectacularly extravagant one-off event the Tate miraculously
reanimated scenes from a Hieronymous Bosch painting
on a recent weekday night. Random members of the art
world from far and wide (ie. some people came from Sheffield)
were lured into the darkened galleries at Tate Britain,
beseiged with exotic canapés (micro cottage pie anyone?),
pink liquids and total confusion - what were they doing
here? what was ‘British Art Week’? where was Andrew
Graham-Dixon? and who encouraged Jibby Beane to impersonate
a cake trolley in a be-sequinned leotard? At least the
(lack of) lighting provided something of a protective
shield. For many revellers, it was an opportunity to
become re-acquainted with all those other C-list artists
and curators they had been successfully avoiding for
years. Hurrah for Tate Britannia - always reminding
us of our rich history.
Swap
shop
Venetian fashion icon and it-girl Darren Fluke has appointed
himself director of contemporary art at Enwistle after
inviting and fighting off no other applicants for the
job. Modern Art has reportedly hired a priest to exorcise
the demons occupying their new premises on Vyner Street,
formerly the jinxed home of Nylon. Anthony Wilkinson
has changed his name to Amanda and renamed his gallery
after a hardware outlet. Artist, theorist and kick-boxer
Keith Tyson has abandoned the beleagured Anthony Reynolds,
not one year after winning the Turner Prize; Reynolds
is reportedly reeling with déjà vu.
Spin
Doctor
Confucius often say: when an artist run short of ideas,
he turn to the Bible. ArtRumours say: when an artist
run short of ideas, he delegate to his assistants. It
is well known that Damien Hirst offloads the chore of
producing work onto several thousand studio slaves,
but he’s gone too far in letting them come up with the
ideas too. Behold more dot paintings (but white on white
- that’s new, surely?), more cows (but now with razors
in their heads - that’s new, too?), more cabinets, more
butterflies, more spins, more money… The only new move
is the poetry… remarkably insightful stuff. ArtRumours’s
in-house literary critic has scanned through it and
can now offer a quick synopsis:
‘Boiled alive.. the sharpening of knives,...it’s
me….too far gone. etc Rot’s set in.. the rot’s set in
good now… nothing special.. No. No. no.. we’re all going
to die.. so let’s switch on the telly. Coming to terms
with my vast wealth - an endless war. This is the end
of the line for most, for me, but could I make it into
interior design on TV?’
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