Favorite Sculptures from Art Basel 2023

"The Cellist" by Reginald O'Neal (2023)

Although the Miami Beach Convention Center is huge, galleries still have limited space to showcase their artists' work. So to allocate space for a sculpture is a statement. And no gallery made a bigger statement than Spinello Projects with its display of Reginald O'Neal's "The Cellist." The large-scale work had its own cubicle, which was necessary for the artist to make his point.  

This was not the first time I'd encountered O'Neal's work. I saw an exhibit of his work at the Orlando Museum of Art last summer and was intrigued. The show included a series of paintings depicting a single porcelain figure of a black performer evocative of minstrel era days. In one work the figure had fallen on its side, seemingly discarded. The wall card explained that these objects have been mass produced since the days of Jim Crow laws. They were -- and continue to be -- a commercial form of racism. 

In "The Cellist," O'Neal's ten foot tall figure towers above viewers. But what was most striking about the musician was that his back was turned to passersby. What was up with that? I asked one viewer for his thoughts. "Maybe it's to force us to walk around the sculpture and engage?" he posited. A good thought, but no. Instead, the cellist has purposefully turned his back on any potential audience. He is eschewing further commercialization by making music just for himself. I like it. 

O'Neal grew up in the Overtown, a historically Black section of Miami. When Black musicians like Louis Armstrong came to town, they performed for white audiences but had to stay in Overtown due to segregation. This history provides additional context for the cellist's mindset. For more of O'Neal's work, click here. 

"My Balanchine" by Sam Anderson(2023) 

For something beautiful and mysterious, how about "My Balanchine" by Sam Anderson? Unfortunately, the artist is somewhat elusive, with no website or Instagram that I could find. (I take this as a personal affront.) Articles talk about Anderson's interest in narratives and memories and stock characters, but I can't even venture a guess what the story is behind this faceless woman clothed only in a hooded shawl. She makes me think of Little Red Riding Hood, but that can't be right. Among other things, how would that connect with Balanchine? (There is a ballet version of Little Red Riding Hood, but Balanchine didn't choreograph it.) Let me know what backstory you'd give her. 

Anderson often depicts stock characters in her work, a choice straight out of her family history. Her mother is a character actress, and Anderson has watched her with fascination as she develops the history of the waitress or maid or nurse she's playing. Everyone has a story, even if they're not front and center. It makes me even more curious about the narrative behind "My Balanchine." For a bit more about Anderson and her art, click here. And in case you're wondering, the paintings behind the sculpture were created by Antonio Ballester Moreno. 

"Cracked Egg (Yellow)" by Jeff Koons (1994-2006)

Jeff Koons is certainly not a hot new name on the art scene, but "Cracked Egg (Yellow)" was just so striking that I had to include it. The sculpture is from a series of stainless steel sculptures created in five different colors -- blue, red, magenta, violet and yellow. In 2014, "Cracked Egg (Magenta)" sold at auction for $18.4MM. None of that money went into Koons' pocket, but secondary market sales at that level support his reputation and enhance his ability to garner even higher prices when selling in the primary market.

 A report by an art broker of the sale waxed eloquent about the significance of the egg in art history and the "metaphorical figuration of transcendence, an important theme in Koons' work." I rolled my eyes as I read the report. I get it, but the lofty language turned me off.

I have mixed feelings about Koons. He is an idea man who turns to studio assistants and other professionals to bring those ideas to fruition. I know, I know -- that's the way of the art world. But it kind of grates on me to hear him talk -- as he did in this excerpt from an interview with Anderson Cooper -- about how long it took "him" to create a specific work of art. Humility is not his middle name. For an article by a then-budding art student who worked as a studio assistant for Koons, click here. Interestingly, his tenure predates the cracked egg sculptures but was a painting of the same object. 

"Medium Huddle" by Tom Friedman (2023)

I'll leave you with "Medium Huddle" by Tom Friedman. Friedman is known for working with unusual materials like styrofoam, hair, fuzz and paper. "Art, for me, is a context to slow the viewers' experience from their everyday lives in order to think about things they haven't thought about," he has said. "Or to think in a new way." 

For his "Huddle" works, Friedman began by crinkling up disposable roasting pans. (Turkey, anyone?) The works were then cast in stainless steel. His "Medium Huddle" at Art Basel stood about 3-1/2 feet tall. I was drawn to the image of a team coming together to accomplish their goal. 

It's hard not to think of football when you see this work, and there's a reason for that. Friedman's first work in his "Huddle" series was created for the Dallas Cowboys. The sculpture is 10' x 18' and lives at the team's complex in Frisco, Texas. When the Cowboys' new stadium was built in 2009, team owner Jerry Jones and his wife Eugenia decided that a contemporary new site needed a contemporary art collection. In 2019, the collection stood at 87 works by 60 different artists, and I have to think it's grown since then. If I ever get to Dallas, a tour of the art in the stadium will be on my "to do" list. Click here for more about what's on view and crowd response. But back to Friedman. 

In reading about the artist, I was taken by how accessible he seems. He teaches at the graduate level at U-Mass Amherst, and I'm betting his students love him. He invites exploration in his own and others' work. For a terrific video of Friedman in his studio, click here. I wish I'd known about his Twinkie work when I taught my "A Feast for the Eyes: Food in Art" class earlier this year. And for more on Friedman and his work, click here. 

Stay tuned for the inevitable post with pix of me with some of the most fun works at Art Basel. How could I resist? 

Happy holidays!