Tag: Art market

  • Art Genève 2026 and Indigenous Presence in Contemporary Art

    Art Genève 2026 and Indigenous Presence in Contemporary Art

    Art Genève has just wrapped up its 14th edition. Art-Beats was on site to casually take the pulse of the market, speak with gallerists, and detect any recurring themes at this year’s fair, held from January 29 to February 1, 2026, at Palexpo in Geneva.

    Booth B31 Templon, Paris/Brussels/New York

    The fair at a glance
    Art Genève is arguably the second most prestigious art fair in Switzerland, following Art Basel. Often described as a “boutique” fair, it distinguishes itself through its smaller scale and strong curatorial focus. This year’s edition hosted around 80 galleries presenting modern and contemporary art.


    The fair maintains a strong connection to particularly francophone regions, attracting galleries and visitors from Swiss Romandy, Paris, Quebec, and Montreal. Beyond the main booths, Art Genève also features Special Projects, dedicated to foundations, institutional collections, and private collectors, as well as Solo Shows sections, allowing galleries to focus on one artists and more curated booths.


    One of the Special Projects was MAMCO Genève’s (museum of modern art) booth, which functioned as a live exhibition of works the museum planned to acquire during the fair. Beginning empty and gradually filling with newly purchased works, the booth made the acquisition process visible and inclusive — a bit unusual and somewhat refreshing gesture for an institution.

    Booth B39 gallery Semiose, Paris


    Several booths also showcased art award nominees. Luxury watchmaker Piaget continued its support by awarding the best Solo Show presentation at the fair, with the winning work entering MAMCO’s collection. Similarly, the Prix Mobilière 2026 presented seven nominated artists for their contributions to the Swiss art scene. These initiatives demonstrated how sponsorship can meaningfully strengthen collaboration between institutions and the market.

    Art talk “Contemporary Australian Indigenous artists”

    Some Art Talks topics

    As every year, Art Genève hosted a series of public talks. A recurring theme was the Responsible Art Market (RAM) – Art Market Perspective, which celebrated its 10th anniversary. The discussion addressed sustainability in the art world from multiple angles, including shipping practices, tax reforms, inheritance, and the economic sustainability of artistic careers. RAM continues to provide practical toolkits focused on due diligence, provenance research, and combating money laundering within the market.

    Exhibitors preparing at Art Genève


    Another theme, which I found particularly interesting, was the attention to indigenous presence in contemporary art. One talk I was looking forward to — Contemporary Australian Indigenous Artists — ultimately felt more like a presentation than a discussion and lacked depth on individual practices and introduction to artists and their works. Still, it touched on important topics such as oral traditions, the cultural significance of dreaming, which connects people with ancestral narratives in connecting past and present.

    Pitseolak Qimirpik’s Solo Show at D23 gallery Chiguer Art Contemporain, Montréal/Québec

    Highlights of the fair
    While it was enjoyable to reconnect with exhibitors and familiar art-world figures, what stood out most this year were the Solo Show presentations. Around 30 solo shows were presented by international galleries, many of which felt more focused and thoughtfully curated than standard booth displays.


    As a Danish-Greenlandic artist myself, I was particularly drawn to the solo presentation of Inuit artist Pitseolak Qimirpik (b. 1986, Nunavut, Canada) at Chiguer Art Contemporain, led by owner Abdelilah Chiguer. Seeing a solo exhibition by an Inuit artist at a well-established European fair felt significant, and made me think about the positioning of indigenous contemporary artists in general.

    Pitseolak Qimirpik’s Solo Show at D23 gallery Chiguer Art Contemporain, Montréal/Québec


    This presentation raised broader questions about how indigenous artists are positioned within the contemporary art market. As the art world increasingly focuses on previously marginalised voices — including artists from developing regions, women artists, and Indigenous communities — it remains unclear how these practices are expected to adapt to a well-established Westernised art market system, and whether that adaptation risks compromising cultural specificity.


    I don’t have definitive answers, but after an initial walkthrough, this was the booth that stayed with me, because it felt relevant — despite the fair also featuring blue-chip names such as Lee Ufan, Yue Minjun, Anish Kapoor, Paul McCarthy, and post-war figures like Hans Hartung and Karel Appel.

    Booth C20 Mennour, Paris


    Other solo presentations were equally engaging. Gallery espace_L’s exhibition of Jan Steenman’s ceramic, shelf mushroom-like sculptures reflected a broader trend I’ve noticed recently: contemporary ceramics increasingly occupying space within fine art galleries. Several other galleries such as Taste Contemporary from Geneva and the art association SALTS from Basel were also exhibiting ceramic sculptures, and I am wondering if there is an increased demand for these? It seems like it.

    Further Reading

    See also related articles

  • Art and Rarity: Originals, Editions, and Reproductions

    Art and Rarity: Originals, Editions, and Reproductions

    What does uniqueness of an art work mean – and what influence does rarity have in today’s art market?

    The question is rooted in my own initial discontent of the commodification of fine art. Perhaps, due to a tendency of romanticising important or relevant fine art as unique or “one of a kind”, which is a dangerous thing to do. This thought might narrow your mind to “what art should be” as a reaction to “what art has become”. So, in an effort to educate myself, and better explain this aspect of art production to others, I am here looking into the levels of rarity art may be produced under, and why does this matter.

    From ancient Chinese woodcuts to Andy Warhol’s silk screen prints, the tension between originality and reproduction has always been central to the art world. Today, with artworks sold everywhere from international fairs to online platforms, understanding the difference between unique works, editions, and reproductions may seem useful – for artists, collectors, and audiences alike.

    Kunsthaus, Zurich

    3 Encounters with Art Rarity

    My reflections on this topic stem from a couple of personal encounters:

    The Picasso Print: A friend once asked me about a lithograph advertised as a “Picasso” for around $500. My friend asked me why it was so cheap, and whether it would be a good purchase. The real question wasn’t whether the piece was authentic, but whether it was a limited edition, an open edition, or simply a fancy poster. Rarity, as well as who produced or printed it, as well as the quality of the edition, could determine the value.

    An Yves Klein in Manila: At Art Fair Philippines some years ago, I saw what appeared to be an ultramarine coloured sculpture advertised as Yves Klein’s Blue Venus. The work, I later researched, was conceptualised by the artist, but was only produced after the artists death in limited production of 300 sculptures. The work is dated 1962/1982 for when it was initially conceptualised, and when it was actually produced with authorisation by the artist’s estate 20 years after his death – it was priced around $100,000. This triggered some questions in me; was this an ambitious effort to democratise Klein’s work, or a bold attempt to commercialise a legacy? You can find editions of this sculpture at many prominent museums and galleries around the world, which adds legitimacy and value to this posthumous work. See an example of one of the editions here on The Met’s website.

    Edition-Only Galleries: In cities like London and Paris, I’ve passed by gallery streets selling, sometimes exclusively, certified prints, editions, and replicas. These spaces illustrate how entire business models can revolve around the reproducibility of art. These galleries also often appear in major art fairs, selling artworks by the likes of Francis Bacon, Dalí, or Basquiat. The artworks represent a mid-range segment of the market, between very affordable and very expensive blue chip art.

    Each of the experiences above revealed how fluid the boundaries are between original, edition, and reproduction – and how much these definitions matter in shaping perception and price.

    Art Zurich 2022

    Why Rarity Matters in Art

    As mentioned, art is sometimes romanticised as “one of a kind.” We imagine the solitary artist creating a singular masterpiece, preserved in time. But reality is more complex, and there are different reasons why it would make sense to break up a unique artwork into limited editions and reproductions.

    Today, the art markets thrive on accessibility, affordability, and scalability. Collectors now navigate a spectrum of artworks – from originals to certified editions, prints, and posthumous reproductions. Each category raises important questions about value, authenticity, and intention.

    Rarity plays a crucial role in setting expectations. For collectors, understanding whether a piece is unique, limited, or open edition directly affects the assessment of its value. Editions inevitably reduce a work’s uniqueness, but that does not necessarily diminish its quality. Compared to unique works by the same artist, editions are typically more affordable, though it can be argued that editions can reduce the cultural weight of each individual piece.

    It is also important to distinguish between editions and variations. Variations – like Edvard Munch’s The Scream, exists as several oil paintings and pastels – are variations of the same motif across different media. Editions, by contrast, are identical works produced in a numbered or open series, which would be the lithographic prints of The Scream. Nowadays, all the artworks produced during the artist’s life would be considered important, while the earliest completed version from 1893 produced with oil and tempera on cardboard would arguably be the most famous and studied version. Read more about the work on the MUNCH Museum’s website.

    When Art follows Technology

    The medium of an artwork dictates the possibility of producing art in editions. Like fine art photography, video art, or digital art, artworks can practically be reprinted or redeveloped in as many copies as needed, if the owner possess the negatives or original file. In some instances, the artist may choose to only print a photo in a limited number, choose high quality prints that are difficult and costly to make to ensure quality and integrity of the work. For digital art, the artist may choose to sell the original file or as a non-fungible tokens (NFTs), where uniqueness is secured by a distinct digital code stored on blockchain. The NFT market, which saw a boom in 2021 followed by a steep decline in 2024, is still considered an emerging market as reported by Art Basel in 2024.

    Originals, Editions, and Reproductions: What’s the Difference?

    • Unique Artworks: Paintings, sculptures, or installations created as singular pieces. These works embody the “one-of-a-kind” ideal and includes variations on a theme.
    • Limited Editions: Prints, photographs, or multiples produced in a set number. Each is signed and numbered, often retaining significant value.
    • Open Editions: Works reproduced without a set limit—making them more affordable, but less rare.
    • Reproductions: Replicas of existing works, sometimes produced posthumously. These can be authorised by estates or entirely unauthorised.

    It is important to note, that some artworks are only produced as prints, often in editions, but they are not reproduction. These prints are each considered original prints, as the artwork can be carved out on wood, etched into a copper or zinc plate, or drawn on lithographic stone.

    Understanding these categories helps collectors set realistic expectations while giving artists different ways to balance accessibility with financial sustainability. Not every artist can make a living solely from selling unique works one-by-one, and some mediums are especially well-suited to editions. At the same time, editions and reproductions can sometimes feel as though they dilute the intrinsic value of art, reducing it to something more commercial, like derivatives of original works.

    There seems to be a fairly large interest in prints and editions, with the secondary market for mid-segment (below USD 50.000) made up 7% of the art market in 2024, according to MyArtBroker. I would still make the argument, there is a big difference between editions made by the artist’s hand or supervision, and posthumous editions that are banking on the artist’s legacy. For collecting purposes, it is always relevant to ensure a certificate of authenticity, check for artist signatures, check whether edition is numbered, and whether date of print corresponds to the artist’s lifespan.

    For buyers, the key is to recognise these distinctions. Price is one factor, but of course, the most important question to ask yourself remains simple: Do you like the artwork?

    Art14 London

    Opportunities and Challenges of Editions

    Producing editions can be a lifeline for artists. It allows them to:

    • Reach wider audiences at lower price points
    • Create steady income streams alongside unique works
    • Engage with techniques like photography, printmaking, and digital media

    But editions also raise challenges:

    • Prints on paper can be fragile over time
    • Oversupply can dilute artistic value
    • Posthumous reproductions may spark ethical debates
    • Commercialisation risks turning art into pure commodity

    Some Closing Thoughts

    The rarity of an artwork is not just about economics – it’s about meaning. When a work is produced as a unique piece, its singularity becomes part of the story. When it is reproduced, its accessibility carries a different kind of cultural value.

    It can be argued, that the artistic integrity and value can still be preserved if the editions are treated like originals, in the sense of documenting, numbering, and certifying each piece. Unlimited quality prints can be considered high-end posters, which is completely fine, as long as this is transparent and clearly communicated to the buyer.

    Perhaps the key is not to treat rarity as a hierarchy, but as a spectrum of artistic practice. Unique works, limited editions, and even reproductions all have their place – provided we understand their context, purpose, and artistic intent.

    For further reading:

  • Art Geneva 2025 and thoughts on art archiving

    Art Geneva 2025 and thoughts on art archiving

    Art Geneva 2025 took place from 30th January to 2nd February 2025 at the Palexpo in Geneva. This was the second time I visited the fair, and I was curious to see how this mid-sized art fair was developing.

    Art Geneva is significantly smaller than Art Basel and Frieze. It hosted around 80 galleries, divided between those displaying catalogues of artists and those focusing on solo shows. There was a curated section for larger works and two spaces dedicated to awardees and the recognition of Swiss artists. In addition, there was a café, a bar, a restaurant, a partners’ lounge, booths for publishers, and an art talk space.

    But what I found interesting in this fair, was the art talk about the practices of art archiving.

    Art Geneve 2025, art talk space

    Archiving art
    I started my visit by attending the art talk “Archivorum Ark – Chapter 2: The Practice of Archiving Art and Bridging Time and Memory.” I recognised this theme from last year; I suppose that is what they meant by Chapter 2. The dedicated art talk space was larger and much better staged than in 2024.

    It took a while to introduce the panelists, but through their introductions, you already gained a good overview of the theme and the practices surrounding the archiving of art. This is not a theme I have given much thought about in the past, but it raised some interesting points. What happens not only to all the artworks in an artist’s private possession but also to all the notes, photographs, sketches, diaries, or any other supporting documentation that might help others understand the artist’s life, thoughts, and art process when the artist passes away? What are the practices for gathering and sorting this material, who keeps it, and what is it used for?

    It is interesting because not all artworks are suited for sale, and not all museums can store full archives of all artists. So, who maintains these materials, and what are the methodologies used for preserving them?

    It is easy to imagine that some blue-chip artists have extensive and valuable material stored in large museums, especially museums dedicated to specific artists. Similarly, galleries representing the estates of famous artists often hold a considerable amount of material, including archives of artworks. But what about lesser-known artists, or those deemed historically important after they have passed away?

    Artist legacy and the preservation of ideas are key topics and challenges in the role institutions play in educating, mediating, and curating exhibitions for the public. In this context, good cataloguing and archiving practices seem essential. This is particularly true for exhibitions that publish art books alongside the exhibitions themselves. Achieving this requires, first and foremost, someone dedicated to the task, gaining access to the stored documentation, and possessing the expertise to catalogue, digitise, and organise this information for specific or future use.

    That is where Archivorum Ark seems to come in. It is a relatively new organisation, established in 2023. It manages a library, organises public events, and conducts research projects. Its aim is to preserve, provide research, and educate about artists’ archives from around the world. Projects can be granted to artists or other art professionals who have a specific research project in mind, which might result in public events or publications, such as artists’ books.

    I think this initiative has a fantastic philosophy and concept. It raises important considerations about what happens to all the art we, as artists, produce. How do we document our work and process, if at all? And how do we properly hand over artists’ archives to researchers and custodians?

    Art Geneve 2025, Von Bartha gallery

    Responsible Art Market Conference
    The 9th edition of the Responsible Art Market Conference (RAM) is an annual event that takes place at the Palexpo during Art Geneva. It was held on Friday, 31st January, so I was unable to attend, but I thought it would be relevant to mention.

    Like the practices of archiving art, this conference also seeks to address and solve practical challenges in the fine art world. Art experts attending the conference discussed topics such as artwork commission contracts and pricing, responsible art market practices, non-resale clauses, and the impact of art speculation on the sustainability of artists’ careers.

    Some of the topics seemed to address broader issues, while others focused on specific and practical challenges. From my experience and work with ESG risk data, I know that words like “responsible” and “sustainability” should be used with care, as these terms are often exploited as smokescreens to make poor practices appear better than they are. I am not suggesting that this is the case here, and since I did not attend, I can only share the details about the conference’s intentions.

    That being said, the topic of fine art and sustainable practices is an important one, and I should consider dedicating a separate article to this subject.

    Art Geneve 2025, galleries at fair

    The fair as a whole
    Looking at the rest of the art fair, I think there was a good mix of young and established artists. I counted about 30 galleries from or based in Switzerland, 24 from France, a few from Italy, Belgium, and the UK, as well as four Asian galleries. There were 30 solo shows, meaning galleries exhibited artworks by a single artist. I think this was a great approach. It signals the intention of galleries to highlight an artist, allows them to curate their booth more effectively, and, for future sales, the gallery can mention to potential buyers that the artist had a special show at this fair. As a fair visitor, it also provides a better understanding of the individual artist’s ideas and concepts.

    I must note, having attended many art fairs, there are some artists you can always expect to see, such as Lee Ufan’s signature minimalist brushstroke paintings, Günther Förg’s multi-coloured grid paintings, there are always a couple of Picassos, and reproductions of Francis Bacon or Salvador Dalí in ghastly golden frames. While I understand there is a market for reproductions, I tend to skip them. I could dedicate a whole article to editions and reproductions, which could be another idea for the future.

    All in all, Art Geneva was a positive experience. I gained a quick insight into some of the current discussion points in the art world. In terms of the art itself, I did not experience anything particularly new or groundbreaking, but that would have been too much to ask for. In comparison to Art Basel, which is by far the largest fair in Switzerland (and Europe), Art Geneva offers a more casual and intimate setting, which serves as a good platform for art discussions and opportunities to converse with gallerists.

    If you want to hear more about eh Swiss art scene, check out previous article The Swiss Art Scene.

    If you are interested in the world of art fairs, check out Art Fairs – who are they for and how to use them?

    Further Reading:
    Art Geneva 2025
    Archivorum Ark
    Responsible Art Market Conference

  • 5 artworks to discover now from Art Basel in Switzerland

    5 artworks to discover now from Art Basel in Switzerland

    A version of this article was also published in print by Art+ Magazine, Issue 86, 2023, Philippines.

    Many art goers in Asia may be more familiar with Art Basel Hong Kong, but the art fair’s origins are in the charming city of Basel in Switzerland, which started 53 years ago. Opening its first year with only 90 galleries, the Art Basel brand has grown significantly over the years, creating a global reach and influence. 

    The art fair in Switzerland and Hong Kong have very similar concepts, but being in Basel during this time is a 360-degree experience, with hundreds of events, exhibitions and site-specific works being launched across the city. The 2023 edition took place from 15-18 June 2023 with 284 galleries and a wide array of programmes for different audiences. 

    A must-see section is Unlimited, which focuses on curated, large-scale installations that will otherwise look out of place in a typical gallery display. It is housed in a 16,000 square-meter exhibition space. Unlike the Galleries sector, which is laid out as a series of booths with changing displays, Unlimited invites viewers to interact not just with the work but the physicality of the space. Monumental sculptures, live performances, larger-than-life paintings and video projections are just some of the surprises that await fair goers. Curated by Giovanni Carmine, Unlimited this year featured 76 artworks by emerging and named artists from across the world. Themes predominantly explored artistic responses to politics, climate change, technology, and major global crises. 

    Malaya del Rosario, art manager based between the Philippines and Switzerland, roamed Unlimited’s grounds and has selected five unforgettable works to discover.

    1. Rirkrit Tiravanija, untitled (curry for the soul of the forgotten) (2015)

    Presented in an enclosed space, Rirkrit Tiravanija’s work features a three-channel video projection as well as actual objects. In front of the screens are low, plastic stools. At the center of the room is a bronze cauldron, a replica of the one in the video, on top of a flattened cardboard. It is meant to feel like someone is in the middle of cooking a meal on an open fire. 

    Tiravanija is known for combining film, readymade and performance in his practice. Food, and specifically, Thai cuisine, is a long-standing component in his works, often symbolising community, gathering, and the everyday. An earlier work from 1992 saw the artist feeding curry to visitors in a New York gallery as a performative piece.

    In this particular work, the artist wanted to pay tribute to ‘the forgotten,’ presumably the political activists fighting for democracy, through food. Shot in Thailand,  the film documents the ritual of cooking curry to highlight “the often-forgotten agents of social and political change in protests both domestically and around the world.” Interacting with this work in a three-dimensional setting is like being transported to a street kitchen that would feel very familiar to someone coming from Southeast Asia.

    1. Wu Chi-Tsung, Dust 002 (2023)

    Taipei-born, Wu Chi-Tsung, is very much interested in how we see the world through media and how our perceptions are easily altered by technology. The installation, Dust 002, consists primarily of a telescope, video camera and projector. Entering a darkened room, the viewer’s gaze is drawn to the telescope facing a wall, a halo around it, and fluttering specks of light. The movement is caused by magnified particles in the air, as activated by the viewers’ movements inside the room. 

    The combination of optical tricks, technology and chance is quite smart, and the result is a highly aesthetic and poetic experience for the viewer.  It demonstrates how we can so easily and inevitably impact our environment without realizing it. To fully appreciate the artwork means to take one’s time in observing the elements and delicate motions in the space.

    1. Mika Tajima, You Be My Body for Me (2023)

    Los-Angelos born Mika Tajima’s practice is driven by an inquiry into how technology and virtual spaces transform bodily and physical experiences into new forms. Interacting with Tajima’s work, Be My Body for Me, feels like walking through a rock garden, in which large, rose quartz sculptures are positioned alongside freestanding ‘smart glass’ panes. As the viewer moves around, the glass panes change opacity through electric charges. While these changes seem random, the glass panes are in fact connected to a digital algorithm. 

    The rose quartz, on the other hand, pinkish and massive, seems to represent human torsos. Upon closer inspection, one will notice holes cutting through the sculptures, acting as pressure point openings. Tajima’s choice to use this material is due to its inherent technological capabilities. “The punctured diagram of acupuncture pressure points on rose quartz brings together ancient materials, techniques, and the enigmatic symbols of human energy, life, and the urge to control the unknowable,” explains Tajima. 

    1. Kaloki Nyamai, Dining in Chaos (2023)

    Kaloki Nyamai’s triptych of gigantic paintings are hard to miss. Hanging gracefully as unstretched pieces of canvas across the monumental exhibition hall, they powerfully represent Nyamai’s interest in painting as a sculptural medium. Depicting vignettes taken from the artist’s Kenyan heritage, they are unforgettable not only for their scale but their bright colours and eye-catching imagery. 

    Using acrylic, sisal rope, and dye transfer on paper over canvas, all three paintings show human figures doing seemingly leisurely activities against a backdrop of social unrest. Despite this context, the paintings successfully depict a beautiful kind of chaos – organic, textured, contrasting, full of movement. 

    Referring to the title, ‘Dining in Chaos’ the artwork asks a simple yet provocative question: When a major disruption occurs, “does one stop abruptly, or carry on dining?” 

    1. Martha Jungwirth’s Memorial II (Triptychon) (2021)

    Martha Jungwirth’s work, Memorial II (Triptychon), is a nearly nine-meter-long frieze-like painting. Made up of oil on paper on canvas, it features animal-like elements painted through rapid paint brushstrokes. The three-part image is mostly sparse, raw and unprimed, making the figures look like they are floating in space.  

    The work is inspired by animals affected by modern environmental disasters and sculpted creatures found in ‘King Tut’s (Tutankahmun’s) tomb in Egypt a century ago. Looking through this long canvas, the painting acts like a window to the past. It portrays a lone creature on the left panel contemplating its uncertain destiny, while streaks elsewhere suggest exposed ribcages or animals’ wiry legs. Jungwirth’s expressive and poetic approach seamlessly connects ancient civilizations to contemporary environmental issues and eternal life and death questions. 

    Born in 1940 Vienna, Jungwirth has developed a unique abstraction grounded in observation and the body. Her work spans over six decades, occupying an intuitive space beyond spoken language and object obtrusiveness. 

    With so many high-impact artworks, Unlimited has proven to be the pulse for global art trends and an excellent platform for artists we need to know now.

  • Art Scenes and their mechanism

    Art Scenes and their mechanism

    Art scenes may be considered exciting places to experience art or to be seen as an artist, but the term art scene is often being used quite liberally (by myself included). But having a workable definition of art scenes can actually be quite useful in understanding the mechanisms of art, art activity, and the stage on which it unfolds.

    I picked up this topic because I wanted to write about my personal experiences of various art scenes, but I made a fatal error, I assumed that we all have the same understanding of what art scenes are. Furthermore, it seems to me there are many different uses and definitions of the term art scene, so I’ve read up on a few interesting perspectives to add on to my own perception of the term.

    In this article I deal with art scenes in terms of the art activity in a specific location, and try to map out some of the key art participants. By defining the mechanisms of art scenes I’ll try to compare the art scenes of two very different cities (Paris and Manila) in order to understand their function and difference.

    Perspectives: art scene as a polyseme

    The term art scene can be considered a polyseme, in the sense that it has multiple meanings depending on who uses it. For example, an artist might use the term to map out where to be seen, an art historian or curator might use it to track art styles, trends, or movements, and a gallerist might use it in terms of positioning art sales. They might all be referring to the same scene, so what are art scenes?

    As nicely described by the two philosophy scholars Josef Kovalčik and Max Ryynänen (2018), art scenes are commonly considered places from which artists and their works are associated, but could also be used to describe an environment an artist has “spun out of”. This is exemplified by artists such as Picasso being Spanish-born but making a name in the Paris art scene, or Marina Abramovic being a product of the experimental Balkan art scene. Thereby, we associate artists to certain art scenes with the belief that the art scene has played an important role in their work. According to Kovalčik and Ryynänen, the possibilities and limitations of certain art scenes are influenced by many factors such as political control, aesthetics, and the existence of an audience for the works. They also discuss the aspect of artists from peripheral areas (in terms of low art activity or no existing art scene) moving to central art scenes where “things are happening”. This aspect often plays a key part in artist’s biographies, where the artist’s roots are described as well as what happened when she/he moved to a particular city?

    Kovalčik and Ryynänen also list the participants of art scenes such as the artists, curators, gallerists, critics, mediators, museum professionals, and collectors, where if often occurs that individuals have several roles. They argue that all the participants are somewhat conscious of each other. Higher cultural institutions and galleries are often aware of grass-root spaces and activities, and are sometimes referred to as scenes themselves (e.g. the museum scene, grass-root scene etc.). These scenes, based on geography, make up a network where works and thoughts are shared inside a system.

    Another interesting perspective on art scenes is described in the essay The Logic of Scenes by artist and writer David Burrow published in Deleuze and Contemporary Art (2010). Particularly, Burrow describes a perspective on the European avant-garde and its focus on communal experimentation, and how the European avant-garde opened up the potential of matter, bodies, and groups. The interesting here is how the avant-garde artworks brought forth new arrangements of life and practices. The logic of scenes advocates that artworks, writings, performances etc. along with the actions and declarations by individuals and groups play an important role in these new arrangements, and could push for new orientations. It further describes how art both emerges out of a scene and helps produce a scene. Art scenes in this definition are coined as “a distribution of presentations” wherein the art activity is marked by encounters and articulations. Art scenes are here not defined as professional networks, but rather informal presentations of events, and differ from formal organisations of art. They are shaped by their local and specific nature, they have no specific size, nor do they have a specific duration (Zepke et al. 2010; Burrows: 157-176).

    What I take from the definitions by Burrow, Kovalčik, and Ryynänen, is the sense of association and communal component of art scenes. Art scenes have the dual quality of being formed by artists as well as nurturing artists, and this creates a network for art professionals. Being associated with an art scene can be used as a tool to promote art, but it can also be used in finding a scene “out there” that fits your interest, whether you’re an art professional or an art explorer. So with that in mind, we can also distinguish between informal and formal art scenes, depending on their uses by the art participants.

    My take on art scenes

    Photo: outside PI Artworks London, 2016

    As mentioned, I’ve been personally using the term art scene to determine art activity in a particular location. Practically I’ve been using the term in my efforts to explore and identify which art activities are going on where, and who’s involved? Furthermore, I’ve been using it to identify what does the art activity say about the specific location at which it takes place. In other words, I’ve been using art scenes as an identifier for art activity anchored to a local culture of a place.

    In my experience there are three general elements that play a key part in defining the practices within art scenes, namely tradition, convention, and resources.

    Traditions matter in terms of how things have been done in the past. Every tradition was at one point invented, which I think we tend to forget. Traditions are created out of needs at a certain point in time, and are continued either because the need continues to exist or because the tradition has become a habit.

    Conventions matter in terms of how things are done now. It’s more immediate. It’s relevant in terms of how we are addressing problems or challenges now, and in terms of what is perceived best practice.

    Resources matter in terms of local cultural policies, how are things financed, how social capital among participants is strengthened, what resources are physically available, and of course the utilisation and keeping of knowledge.

    A comparison of two art scenes: Paris and Manila

    Photo: outside Louvre Pyramid Paris, 2014

    Considering Paris and Manila, two very different art scenes and cultures. I have lived, studied, or worked in both cities, and it’s amazing to experience the different dynamics between the two. It’s important to note, that this comparison is not a scoreboard of which scene is better than the other. That wouldn’t make any sense and I have no interest in doing that. The emphasis is really on the practices, and what the different dynamics are.

    Considering Paris, a city with a long tradition of art schools, public and private museums, established districts of art galleries, known artist collectives, annual art fairs, and regularly operating auction houses. The art scene in Paris consists of a strong support system of art professionals such as trained artists, educated curators and historians, art writers, experienced venue managers, and cultural policy makers who are voicing how to change conventions to keep up with time, e.g. the challenges of art sales moving to online platforms, new tax policies for art stored in tax havens, repatriation of looted art, or whatever else the topic might be.

    Paris has developed its art scene through traditions of doing things, e.g. artists get educated at art schools, the art is exhibited in galleries and maybe later in larger venues once the artist has been acknowledge by the art community, the artist gets commissioned by local governments to do bigger works, and so on.

    Paris might also have to change its conventions to deal with current challenges, e.g. museums having to find new ways of attracting crowds as young people are loosing interest, the lax regulation on art sale means many artists are missing out on their compensation from the droit de suite (art resale right) etc.

    Finally, the city’s resources are unfortunately not constant. Resources have to be observed and maintained. If a city wishes to finance a vibrant and attractive cultural scene, then these expenses will have to come from somewhere. Knowledge as a resource also requires maintenance, such as passing on valuable know-how before it’s lost.

    Photo: Art14 London, 2014

    Then if we look at Manila. A top 10 city among the world’s most densely populated cities pr. square kilometre, and approximately twice has densely populated as Paris. However, the population is much younger. Median age in France is 41,7 and the Philippines 25,7 (2020). I would argue this difference matters. Less space and younger people does change the culture and dynamic of a city.

    Manila also have a younger tradition of art schools, a few public and private museums, no dedicated districts of art galleries but rather clusters of a couple of fine art galleries, few formal art collectives, a few annual art fairs, and occasional art auctions.

    Manila doesn’t have as long a tradition of established practices (major revolutions haven’t made it easier to establish continuity though), but I would argue there is a stronger sense of freedom on how to go about things (can be both good and bad). The freedom of not being tied to traditional practices makes Manila a scene that constantly has to change its conventions, a carte blanche if you will. A way of looking at it is, this gives the city a unique position to adapt to best practices of establishing well-managed institutions, programming art education, funding art projects etc. For example, I find it interesting that the Philippines doesn’t have an actual Ministry of Culture (at least as of now 2020), and the current governing body for culture and arts commissioning NCCA (National Commission for Culture and the Arts) was established as late as 1992. Keyword again: young!

    Manila is certainly a place where you can talk about scenes within a scene. The gallery scene is fairly new, yet growing every year. The art hub scene is so booming, that I can’t even keep up. The art crowd and participants might predominantly be young (my assumption), but people are curious and eager to try things out. I feel there’s an urge among art participants to be relevant and to be represented in the art world, and why wouldn’t you applaud this drive.

    Traditions of practice can be useful in terms of planning and supporting the arts, but it’s not vital for the existence of an art scene. The challenges attached to conventions and resources are a different matter, and they will always need to be updated regardless of traditions.

    Staging art

    So, if we accept the premise that art participants make up the art scene, each with their different role to play, the art scene becomes a stage for multiple-purpose interactions. Multiple-purpose in the sense that the participants utilise art scenes for different purposes. Artists might use the art scene to gain exposure and sell art to make a living. Curators might use it to nurture their network or gather inspiration and ideas for exhibits. Venue managers might use the scene to find artists and curators to collaborate with, or gather information on prices of artworks. A bit simplified, but it’s just to say that art scenes can be considered stages where these art participants meet and form networks.

    Another important factor in staging art is of course the tool of media. Media in its broadest sense is a way of channeling art activity to an audience, a way of learning, a way of gaining exposure as an artist, but not to forget that media can also influence and colour people’s opinion.

    In order to gain exposure, artists will have to engage in some sort of media activity, or even better, have some else manage it for them. Art scenes will probably be there regardless of media interaction, but media does help in creating awareness of particular art scene.

    In my opinion, nothing can really replace first-hand experiences of art, whether we talk about art works or art scenes. Ideally you’ll physically go out and experience art in person, but of course you can’t be everywhere all the time, and media channels (whether its TV, social media, art magazines etc.) are great ways to learn what’s going on in the world.

    For further reading

    • Kovalčik J. & Ryynänen M., “The Art Scenes.” Published in journal Contemporary Aesthetics, Vol 16, 2018.
    • Burrow D. “An Art Scene as Big as the Ritz: The Logic of Scenes”, published in Zepke S. et al., Deleuze and Contemporary Art, Edinburgh, Edinburgh University Press, 2010.