Prostitute Art: Can I Call You Collect, Daddy?

Prostitutes walk dark park corners in leather and lace while art collectors cruise down temporary white halls in suits and sneakers; berated by galleries try to pimp a piece. How we convey love – in the end, that’s all what we're here to buy – selling a moment of it is dirty. Looking down upon those that walk the streets doing just that; so what is different? Add some bright lights, a few white walls and we have Art Fair Prostitution – Let's fuck some art.

A preadator and the prey. Photo: Irina Rybakov

To sell a body of work to be admired but not abused. The price of skill over skin, but all for pleasure; hopefully more than than just one night. Selling lust for an instant, or falling in love instantly are not so different. It will cost more than the €€€ on the price tag; what I saw was the cost of selling yourself. Overheard in a booth at Preview, a gallery, proud of their pimping an 8000€ piece (of art I assume), "The collector just looked at it and fell in love."

Baby, You're Gonna Be A Star

Selling sex makes you a whore. Selling art makes you a gallery. How dare I compare an art fair to ladies of the night; preposterous and vile to run amuck the prestigious world of art with street walkers. The only question I have: who should be more offended? This is one of the most important weeks for many gallerists and artists. I sit smoking a fag; bitter after my a few hours walking around Preview – just a bright lit back alley – filled with Johns and Janes looking to buy and sell.

Bind My Wrists, Gag Me & Take Me To Heaven

The collector's world like many worlds is male dominated, and seeing Torsten Solin – a supposed artist – didn't quell my art sexism theory. Flaunted by hyper sexual women paid to be there, strutting around the streets or strutting around the bougie halls of Preview in skin-tight latex; lickable black patent heels and taped nipples, they are the ones selling. The ladies were lovely, the artist a sleaze; who let him in? Where are the shirtless men strutting their stuff. Is art boobs and ass? Not bulges and pecs?

Artist Samuel Salcedo proves that male nudity sells nothing. Photo: Chris Phillips

What we all try to do in life is to sell ourselves. To make someone else believe that we are worth a certain amount and that they should pay it. I sell myself on a daily basis. I tell people that I am important and worth every penny: "I’m the best and now give me more money cause I’m still the best." To be honest: I feel dirty. Germany might be more liberal than other countries (in my country it’s a criminal act that carries fines and jail time). We can’t deny sex sells no matter the cost. No matter how much love is put into a work it still might not sell. So rip off it's bra, make it a painted whore and sell sex cause that's what Preview's selling and that's what we are buying.

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