L’ignoranza non mi preoccupa, l’economia sì

Texts

Un breve testo sugli NFT che mi sono divertito a scrivere per un altro Domenico. Lunghezza, contesto e compagnia sollecitavano una forma – manifesto, non mi sono fatto pregare. Pubblicato in AAVV, Disordinary Beauty. The Torn Sense of Beauty, catalogo della mostra, Biffi Arte – Fuori Visioni, Piacenza 2021, pp. 29 – 30.

L’introduzione degli NFT ha portato il mercato dell’arte nata digitale a un salto di scala. Quello che ieri veniva considerato un mercato di nicchia, per collezionisti raffinati e coraggiosi, oggi ha un volume che supera il miliardo di dollari; opere che ieri venivano considerate invendibili sono oggi trattate come beni di investimento. Oggi, un file .jpg è la terza opera d’artista vivente più pagata al mondo, dopo un quadro e una scultura. Che esista un prima e un dopo Beeple non è una vanteria, è un dato di fatto.

Ma quelli economici non sono gli unici equilibri ad essere stati scombussolati. Creatori fino a ieri sconosciuti al mondo dell’arte fanno scomparire artisti con una lunga storia, una solida reputazione critica e un inattaccabile pedigree istituzionale. Il mondo dell’arte contemporanea boccheggia, e arranca per stare al passo. Attorno agli NFT si è costituito un altro mondo dell’arte, con tre attori principali: i creatori, le piattaforme, i collezionisti. Se le seconde assorbono, all’occasione, una porzione della funzione curatoriale (selezionando gli artisti, categorizzando le opere) sono i collezionisti i veri curatori di questo spazio. Sono loro, con i loro portafogli che grondano cripto, che decidono chi sale in cima alla piramide e chi è destinato a consolidarne la base, comprando criptovaluta e pagando gas fee. Se guardiamo alle opere dei 100 artisti più quotati, vediamo i loro collezionisti: il loro background culturale, i loro gusti estetici, la loro agenda politica, le loro passioni, la loro voglia di cambiare il mondo, la loro ignoranza in fatto di arte.

Non deridiamo l’ignoranza: è uno straordinario fattore di cambiamento e di innovazione. Sull’eccesso di conoscenza, sull’adesione incondizionata a un codice si costruisce un’Accademia, non un’Avanguardia. In fondo, è l’ignoranza che ha generato Beeple: l’ignoranza e l’economia, il desiderio di rendere visibile al mondo, attraverso un’immagine, come criptovalute e blockchain lo abbiano cambiato nei 13 anni della loro esistenza, e come potrebbero cambiarlo in futuro.

L’ignoranza non mi preoccupa, l’economia sì. Gli NFT sono il prodotto di un mondo dove, per ora, conti solo per quello che hai nel portafogli (trasparente, pubblico, accessibile a tutti). Qualsiasi cosa tu voglia dire, è il tuo wallet che ti da la voce per dirlo. Qualsiasi cosa tu voglia fare, implica una transazione. Accedi col wallet. Firma col wallet. Vota col wallet. Minta col wallet. Compra col wallet.

Gli NFT sono molto giovani. La loro rivoluzione è ancora pura, grezza, immatura. Il futuro dell’arte su blockchain dipenderà, in gran parte, da quanto questo mondo dell’arte resterà uguale a se stesso e da quanto si rivelerà in grado di cambiare, di ibridarsi, di attenersi o di rinunciare alle proprie istanze native.

Domenico Quaranta, 15.11.2021

Truthless Trust

Texts
Francoise Gamma, Fractura, 2021. Animated GIF, 488 × 584 pixels, 301 frames

On the website of Spike Magazine you can now read an edited excerpt from my book Surfing con Satoshi. Arte, blockchain e NFT, translated into English by Anna Rosemary Carruthers. The excerpt offers a good chance to announce the upcoming English version of the book, that will be made available in spring by Postmedia Books and, in a limited edition designed by Superness, by Aksioma, Ljubljana. Meanwhile, enjoy Truthless Trust!

Domenico Quaranta, “Truthless Trust”, in Spike Magazine, February 1, 2022

#collecting

Reading Group

The art market has already got to grips with the ephemeral nature of contemporary artworks. For our purposes it matters little whether these solutions are compromises, or in some cases, not terribly functional. The “Black Box” came about with the aim of offering a safe haven for the temporal nature of video, enabling it to be experienced over time; performance and conceptual art have learned to use methods of documentation (photography, video) and in some cases, certification. Even rapidly obsolete media have found a protocol: old film reels or VHS videos have migrated onto digital media, possibly also being restored in the process. Organic materials can be replaced, as can neon tubes. Sometimes it can be impossible to replace the original material: this was the case for Dan Flavin, who used a particular shade of red in his neon installations which has been withdrawn from the market due to toxicity. It was a fairly predictable outcome, but did not overly trouble his collectors. Hirst knows his sharks’ days are numbered but the artist’s popularity is not suffering as a result. Or it might be suffering, but for different reasons.

The issue of the “technical reproducibility” of works of art has also found a solution: photographs and videos sold in limited editions. Not even the digitalization of the image has challenged this convention, as absurd as this might seem. The fact of the matter is that those who collect works of art, be they museums or private individuals, do not let things like this stand in their way – unless they are convinced of the low cultural or financial value of the work in question. In other words, if New Media Art is struggling in market terms, this is not due to the aforementioned issues, but because there are still doubts over its value as art. Once again, it comes down to a question of appeal, a question that is influenced both by the technology and generation gap, the difficulties faced by traditional criticism and resistance to the New Media paradigm. If I have to choose between two things I have my doubts over, I will go for the one that offers more guarantees in terms of conservation and uniqueness. Such as a painting, for example.

Notes on the VIP Art Fair

Debate

As it often happens to me, I was late at the VIP Art Fair; and, of course, I forgot the closing time. Yesterday night I thought: «Ok, let’s leave now – I will check some few details tomorrow morning.» I forgot what the organizers said somewhere in their massive pr campaign: «it’s not a website; it is an event.» And this morning I was welcome by a sad message: «Welcome, Domenico Quaranta. Thank you for visiting VIP Art Fair. The 2011 fair has closed. See you again next year.» Too bad.
Actually, I didn’t have so many expectations. And no expectations also means no disappointment. Using the internet as a marketplace is not a new idea. And the fact that we had to wait 2011 to see an online art fair is, to me, just a proof of how much conservative the contemporary art world is. An online art fair would have been a surprise ten years ago. Today, it’s just a puer senex – just born, already obsolete. Today, a Facebook page can provide any of its users with much more than what the VIP Art Fair provided to sellers, collectors and the broader audience. And it never crashes, as Mark Zuckerberg says in The Social Network, and as VIP eventually did.

Paul Slocum

Quote

“New media art may eventually find its market, but since it currently has not, its prominence in the art archive may depend on those in the field writing avidly about the unique experiences they’re having with art, computers and the Internet. New media artists are pouring themselves online every day to see a fuller picture, and they must report back often lest others miss out on the astonishing beauty of the Internet.”

Paul Slocum, New Media and the Gallery, in Artlies, Issue 67, 2010

The whole issue is quite gorgeous, featuring texts by / about Charles Broskoski, Beryl Graham & Sarah Cook, Angelo Plessas, Kenneth Tin-Kin Hung, Guthrie Lonergan, Tobias Leingruber