“Anyone who says you can’t see a thought simply doesn’t know art.” ~Wynetka Ann Reynolds

 Left: Arthur Leipzig, Sleeping Child (1949)

 

Why are these people laughing?

As editor of ARTES, a fine arts magazine, I sometimes find myself considering events around the world in the context of threats posed to fine art, architecture and artifacts by war, political and religious disputes and natural disasters. As you know, I have regularly aired my views on the state of national treasures that find themselves suffering at the hands of zealots and combatants, historical sites that are caught in the crosshairs of ethnic disputes and priceless works of art that are often subject to a different kind of abuse—theft. But, in recent weeks, the dystopian implications of climate change and the world’s rising tide levels resulting in havoc wreaked by flood waters, has left many scientists and politicians staring wide-eyed into the headlights of a growing catastrophe. And it’s not just Super Storm Sandy that has experts re-evaluating the rate of Arctic ice cap melt or the power of massive fronts of wind energy riding errant tropical highs to move mountainous walls of sea water into our neighborhoods and public transportation sites. The vast majority of environmental scientists and most responsible citizens of the world (except that handful of politicians and corporate activists who have a vested interest in fossil fuel consumption) see the inexorable trend toward atmospheric ozone depletion and ocean warming as leading the globe to the brink of disaster, and beyond. The New York Times recently reported that 20 of the 30 most expensive insured catastrophes worldwide since 1970 have occurred since 2001—and 13 of them were in the U.S. artes fine arts magazine

It was sadly noted in a casually-reported story on the wire last week that record tide levels in Venice are inundating Saint Marks Square and many side streets with many excess feet of corrosive and contaminated salt water. In scenes reminiscent of the expression, “Nero fiddled while Rome burned,” carefree and hapless Venetians and tourists were pictured romping, languishing and shopping in thigh-high water, or posing in bathing suits in swimmable water, with St. Marks as a backdrop. My first thought was, “Why are these people laughing?” The threat to the priceless treasures of Venice has long been considered at risk of destruction as the city sinks to meet the rising levels of the Mediterranean. Now that the moment is upon us, it appears to be a cause celeb!

In another narrative much closer to home, but no less traumatic, a friend dropped a note with a first-hand account of life in the gallery district of lower Manhattan in the days following the flood. The tragedy experienced by thousands of New Jersey and New York residents remains profound and the toll in lost lives and property incalculable. The pictures of flooded tunnels and subway stations surrounded by pitch-black city blocks were incomprehensible. But, these were the stories that could be seen on national television. Thousands of other, more private experiences, were being captured by critics like Jerry Salz, who prepared this essay for New York Arts:

“I live downtown, in the part of Manhattan without power. Like many, my nights have been long, dark, cold, and unnervingly quiet. With no Internet access, cell phone, or news I was antsy, and felt the urge to wander. On day two, wondering how the galleries in Chelsea had weathered the storm, I seized the opportunity to leave my apartment and head west. And when I got there, my art-heart sunk.

Widespread devastation was in painful evidence in scores and scores of ground floor galleries between Tenth and Eleventh Avenues. Almost every ground floor gallery had been inundated with four or more feet of water. All of the many basement storage facilities were flooded. Computers and desk equipment were wiped out. Reams and reams of irretrievable historical material stored in notebooks and gallery files were washed away, destroyed. Sculptures, crates, furniture, and paintings floated inside water-filled galleries, ramming walls and other works of art. Whole shows were destroyed. Desks floated free. Glass doors had shattered from the pressure of the water inside the galleries. Walls already reeked of mildew or had rotted through…portion of essay deleted…

Walk through Chelsea in the next couple of weeks as clean-up and repair continues. Notice that some spaces look so wrecked that it’ll be extraordinarily hard for them to get back on their feet. Many galleries will somehow have to try and rebuild while getting through the next couple of months of not being open or being able to show or sell art, all while still paying rent and bills. Even the most cold-hearted gallery bashers should wish the best for all these galleries. Every one. Palaces of art and mom-and-pop shows. Right now, along with much of our beautiful city, Chelsea galleries are going through hell. A huge part of the New York art world has suffered a colossal blow. Thinking about New York without its density of galleries is like not being able to think about New York at all. Grim.”

Left: Cover of New York Magazine, in week following Hurricane Sandy, showing lower Manhattan, below 34th Street blanketed in darkness

Count your blessing during this Holiday Season and be certain to extend a hand to those less fortunate. Fate deals its hand at random and, in the wake of natural disasters like those we have recently known, there but for the grace of God, go all of us.

Read more of Jerry Salz’s thoughts on art at http://www.vulture.com/news/jerry-saltz/

Thank you for reading the wide-ranging views on ARTES.

Warm (no irony here) Holiday Wishes,

Richard Friswell, Publisher & Managing Editor

 Visit and ‘like’ us of Facebook or Tweet a hundred-and-forty characters, or so.

 Like us on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/ARTESmagazine

 Tweet us at: https://twitter.com/#!/ARTESmag