Nudist Colonies of NYC
Christie’s Sale of $13.63 Million Dollar Twinkle Lights
Felix Gonzalez-Torres’ sculpture Untitled (America #3)
Much like the twee aesthetics of every college girl’s room and the cozy campground ambiance of a rooftop bar patio, everyone likes a strand of twinkle lights. Christie's auction lot essay describes them as “purposefully [...] identical; made from standard light bulbs (most often 42) in standard porcelain light sockets, attached to a length of cord. Yet these light string works are startlingly profound and awe-inspiringly beautiful”.
Depending on a decorator’s taste, one might pick up a strand of lights from the dollar store or opt for a bluetooth-capable selection that blinks to the beat of your music for $50. Others, however, may prefer to spend a cool thirteen mil or so ($13.63 million specifically).
The sale of Félix González-Torres’ sculpture Untitled (America #3) came across my digital feed in the form of an artspeak-heavy video explaining its significance. Nothing could justify such an exorbitant price. The object is a strand of lights, 42 bulbs on a white wire cord. It is one of a series, making it—despite its obvious lack of uniqueness—not even unique to its own existence as a sculpture. The strand of bare bulbs hangs desolately from the ceiling, crying out for someone, anyone to question their significance.
Surely, art like this was meant to be experienced rather than sold and traded like stocks.
The rotting banana is also called to mind. How can one hold ownership over an idea? Or a square foot of grass in Scotland? Or a star named for your scorned lover who you’ve desperately tried to win back with the purchase of an ancient ball of gas for $19.95. When it comes to bluechip art heists, this piece could be lost in a Pier One, never to be seen again.
In the sale’s advertisement video, a young Post War and Contemporary Art cataloguer for Christie’s intones enthusiastically about “the fleeting quality of the work and its perpetual renewal”. The object is described as being “charg[ed] with depth and various meanings”.
Of course, a blank canvas could have a multitude of meanings applied to it, because there is nothing to refer to. Throwing shit at an empty wall easily sticks. The implication for this type of minimalistic art is that the context and intended meaning elevates a dime store decoration into a universal human truth.
Heavy terminology swirls ambiguously around the lights—subjects like political unrest, social, racial, and economic inequality, and global tragedy of the AIDS epidemic. Even if the given meaning adds to the work’s compelling qualities, the cataloguer discusses the importance of context as well as the value of viewing the piece with no context at all. So which is it? Does this work convey an internal reaction of warmth and comfort? Does it bring familiarity to the viewer with an inherent sense of loss and suffering? Does it bring power to those suffering from said inequity?
Christie’s sale of Félix González-Torres’ Untitled (America #3) for $13.6 million
Perhaps on the day González-Torres manufactured this strand of lights, these claims were somewhat closer to the truth. But in 2024, the artist has been dead for 28 years and what persists is the object, now sold to the highest bidder. The sale of this piece highlights and benefits the very systems and people that the artist claimed to speak against.
Christie’s essay went on to say that González-Torres’ work was “reacting to the emotion and excess associated with Abstract Expressionism, artists believed that an artwork should only reference itself.” The movement of Postmodernism was meant to “challenge the legitimacy of a cultural authority and the supremacy of power structures.”
Instead, in the current geopolitical climate, art is being viewed more and more so as an excess of the ultra-wealthy. The purchase of such an item is of a complete fantasy to the majority of Americans, and tarnishes the reputation of what art can be and is. Even more so, it affects our consensus of the value we should place on art as a public treasure. It diminishes interest in funding arts education and resources for personal creation. It creates a rift between those who love art and those who can afford art. This leads many to dismiss the entire artistic discipline as frivolous and a sign of society’s downfall.
Christie’s extensive lot essay continues attempting to contextualize and justify the significance of the so-called sculpture at length. Despite the discussion of whether Untitled (America #3) is good or bad or stupid, or even art at all, this particular piece calls the legitimacy of such high prices into a stark and naked light. What these lofty descriptions do justify are the practice of auctions, the price of objects traded between millionaires, and the employees’ own job security at such an institution.
It seems the art world has a fondness for inflated prices and inflated egos, which is nothing new.
This work stands out as a clear indicator for the proclivity to build nudist colonies of the most exclusive caliber– buying and selling delusions of grandeur to those gullible enough to believe or those cunning enough to deceive.
After all, the emperor wears no clothes.
REFERENCES:
Artwork: FELIX GONZALEZ-TORRES (1957-1996), "Untitled" (America #3), 42 light bulbs, porcelain light sockets and electrical cord, overall dimensions vary with installation, length: 504 in. (1,280 cm.) Executed in 1992.
