By FRANCK MERCURIO

 
Lawrence &amp; Clark is an unassuming storefront gallery that functions as a public venue for graphic designer Jason Pickleman&rsquo;s private art collection. Over the past 30 years, Pickleman has assembled an eclectic collection of more than 1,000 paintings, sculptures, and works on paper by the likes of Sterling Ruby, Michael DeLucia, Jin Lee, Judy Ledgerwood, Tom Friedman, and his current favorite, Puppies Puppies (Drew Olivo). On a recent visit to the gallery, I spoke with Pickleman about his collection and his deep roots in Chicago&rsquo;s art community. 
 
Pickleman&rsquo;s approach to collecting: 
 
I buy almost everything at first sight. I see it; it piques my interest; I buy it immediately. Very seldom do I hem, haw, think, research. I do almost no research when it comes to collecting&mdash;purely instinctive, always impulsive&mdash;much to my wife&rsquo;s chagrin! 
 
Purchasing a sculpture by Jenny Buffington: 
 
Jenny Buffington had a one-woman show at Heaven Gallery. So I picked up [this sculpture], and I bought it not knowing anything about the artist. Never seen her work before. I was there for a party. [The piece] was available. One glass of whiskey later, I walked home with it! That happens a lot. 
 
Ground up vs. museum down: 
 
I guess my collecting started from the ground up, as opposed to from the museum down. It has been brought on by my relationship with the Chicago cultural community, by being engaged with arts groups, artists, architects, entrepreneurs, and designers &ndash; by going to openings and doing studio visits. I go to places like Heaven, LVL3, and the Chicago Artists Coalition. 
 
&ldquo;Emerging&rdquo; is a dirty word: 
 
You know, I don&rsquo;t like the term &ldquo;emerging.&rdquo; Actually, I take offense to the word. Because, I mean, everybody&rsquo;s emerging as something else. 
 
When you go into a more established gallery, a more commercial gallery, there&rsquo;s a certain pedigree that shapes one&rsquo;s responses to the work. When I go into a &ldquo;scruffier&rdquo; gallery, I find the lack of pedigree to be freeing. I can have a more personally authentic experience with an art object when I don&rsquo;t know the artist&rsquo;s name, their reputation, or their exhibition history. 
 
Encountering Rothko at age 10: 
 
I remember a trip to New York when I was maybe nine or ten and seeing Rothkos at MoMA. That lodged in my brain, that level of atmospheric abstraction as a field of interest for an artist. It was mind-blowing for a ten-year-old. [The Rothko] wasn&rsquo;t a picture of something. It wasn&rsquo;t a place. It wasn&rsquo;t recognizable as anything. But at the same time, it was suggestive of a state of thinking, a state of emotion. I kind of sensed all that at a young age: that art could be this thing that was both specific and ambiguous, suggestive and abstract. And I think that my collection and my habits in collecting are absolutely informed by those contradictions. 
 
Art as memory device: 
 
[The works I collect] are mnemonic devices, memory devices for me. They are snapshots of where I was at certain point in my adult life. And my adult life&mdash;I&rsquo;m 51 now&mdash;has been 100 percent engaged with the Chicago art community. And I haven&rsquo;t left Chicago. I&rsquo;ve been able to find opportunities in Chicago&mdash;both personal and professional opportunities&mdash;and I&rsquo;ve watched multiple generations of artists come up. Many of them leave. Many of them disappear. And owning the work of so many has been one way for me to acknowledge their importance in my adult life. 
 
Opening Lawrence &amp; Clark: 
 
I think opening the gallery was one way for me to rationalize buying more work and as a way to treat the work more respectfully. Because I do&mdash;passionately&mdash;enjoy, love, and respect everything I buy. And often, collectors buy work and then it just disappears into this very private realm, and on one level, that does a disservice to the artist. So by having this gallery space, I open the possibility of not sequestering the work&hellip;that&rsquo;s why I&rsquo;m here every Saturday, with open hours.

<img alt="" data-caption="Pictured clockwise from top: Claire Valdez, Invader, Jenny Spota, Ivan Thorpe, Ken Fandell, William S. Burroughs" data-rich-file-id="1378" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/1378/original/overall100-jasonpickleman.jpg" />

Collecting as part of living a creative life:&nbsp;

 
[The collection is an] end result of a professional life, lived in Chicago from 1987 to 2016. I mean, as a designer, I&rsquo;ve produced over 200 books for the most well known artists in the city of Chicago. I&rsquo;ve befriended artists who ended up having significant careers&mdash;Sterling Ruby, Tony Tasset, Judy Ledgerwood, Kerry James Marshall, I&ntilde;igo Manglano-Ovalle. These are people I have relationships with. I&rsquo;ve worked for major museums. I&rsquo;ve worked with very important curators and museum directors. My entire adult life has been centered around art making, art exhibiting, and art appreciation. Collecting is the end result of those relationships. I did not say, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to become a collector.&rdquo; Instead I said, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to live a creative life in the city of Chicago.&rdquo; And owning all these rectangles and sculptures and neon, that&rsquo;s the residue.

Lawrence &amp; Clark, 4755 N. Clark. Open Saturdays 1&ndash;5pm and by appointment via text 773-459-0586

Top image:&nbsp;Pickleman in front of one half of Sol LeWitt&rsquo;s Wall Work No. 391 (1983-2016) at Lawrence &amp; Clark 
&nbsp;

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Lawrence & Clark is an unassuming storefront gallery that functions as a public venue for graphic designer Jason Pickleman’s private art collection.

Collector Jason Pickleman’s Creative Life

By GINNY VAN ALYEA

 
EXPO CHICAGO may seem like a fixture on the art world calendar now, but a few short years ago there was a serious possibility that the city who led &nbsp;the art fair craze from the beginning in the &lsquo;80s would be left without an international contemporary fair of its own. We spoke with Tony Karman, President, Director of EXPO, about the fifth edition of EXPO Chicago and the rapid changes that have been a part of the evolving show as well as the surrounding art community. 
 
<img alt="" data-caption="Tony Karman, photo by Audia" data-rich-file-id="1407" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/1407/original/tony-karman-photo-by-audia.jpg" />

CGN: You&rsquo;ve made it to five. Tell me where you were back in 2012 and where you are now in 2016.&nbsp; 
 
Tony Karman: I have been saying that it feels like we are going to Kindergarten but we are actually quite mature. Five years is an incredible milestone. I didn&rsquo;t have any great foresight to understand where I hoped to be, but I&rsquo;m awfully proud of where we are. I think that from the beginning, in 2012, we made a huge mark, and we&rsquo;ve built upon that mark, not only being true to the tradition of a great art fair in Chicago, but more important, making sure that this was, and is, and will be, a great international art fair that has programming of merit, has galleries of merit, and represents an incredible list of artists. We move to the fifth year with great optimism.&nbsp; 
 
<img alt="" data-caption="Visitors to EXPO 2015" data-rich-file-id="1408" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/1408/original/expoinsta.jpg" />

CGN: You&rsquo;ve managed not only to&nbsp;survive, but to build. 
 
TK: That&rsquo;s what I&rsquo;m most proud of. From the beginning we&rsquo;ve had an extraordinary list of dealers. Maintaining this in a world of too many art fairs, despite great swings in the economy, there&rsquo;s no question that we&rsquo;ve continued to not only provide a great international fair but grow with a list of powerful international art dealers. That&nbsp;is a testament to our city, our curators, our institutions, our collectors, our &nbsp;galleries &ndash; to our artists.&nbsp;In 2012 there wasn&rsquo;t the IN/SITU&nbsp;program or /Dialogues series; there wasn&rsquo;t THE SEEN. All those elements are maturing to be of service to the fair, as well as, hopefully, the whole ecosystem of the Chicago arts community. &nbsp;I don&rsquo;t think that there&rsquo;s any laurel to rest on. We&rsquo;re only as good as our last fair, and all of us here feel that urgency to continue to push and create new programming. It&rsquo;s all built on the dealers&rsquo; backs, they&rsquo;re the ones taking the greater risk here.&nbsp; 
 
CGN: Did people sign on at the start, figuring it was a gamble? Now, five years in, maybe they think, &ldquo;This is a fair that I need to be a part of.&rdquo; 
 
TK: I think you just hit it. We are at that place. Year one &ndash; there was no question that we came out of the box with an extraordinary list of dealers. I wouldn&rsquo;t say they necessarily sold that much, but they believed in the city, they believed in the mission of the fair, and they believed in the intent enough to want to come back to a year two. In year two they actually sold. Then the machine starts to work in everyone&rsquo;s favor because collectors hear, &ldquo;Something&rsquo;s happening in Chicago again. We gotta go next year.&rdquo; By year three you had even more people wanting to attend and support, and more sales taking place. In year four I think the programming and the cumulative good word meant that they did well.&nbsp;

<img alt="" data-caption="EXPO 2015 at Navy Pier" data-rich-file-id="1406" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/1406/original/expo2015.jpg" />

CGN: Did some people count you out before you got started? 
 
TK: No question. I will say healthy skepticism was there, but not enough to deter the great dealers to attend, but the cultural and civic leaders in Chicago to jump in and support us. I think that&rsquo;s a testament to our city. I&rsquo;ve said this often, because it&rsquo;s critical: I don&rsquo;t know of any city in the world that would have rallied in that way and in that first year, I would say that we maybe had 95% or 98% of everyone&rsquo;s support, with that other 2% going, &ldquo;Well let&rsquo;s just see what it looks like.&rdquo; People questioned, &lsquo;Can Chicago sustain a great international fair?&rsquo; &lsquo;Is this the fair that one would want to participate in?&rsquo; After 2012 doubts were erased about what we were and what we wanted to be, so it allowed for even greater support to flow in &ndash; support to me is when everyone wants to be an ambassador to tell the world to be here. 
 
CGN: Where does art rank in Chicago&rsquo;s international reputation? Among architecture, food, design, sports,&nbsp;art is not at the top of that list yet.&nbsp; 
 
TK: I think you&rsquo;re fair in that observation. This sounds horribly one-sided but I see the fair playing a large role in telling the art world to convene here at the very least once a year. I wish they would convene 365 days of the year.

That&rsquo;s not possible, but I think the fair has reestablished the city and regalvanized the galleries, the artists and the institutions around this weekend in a way that we can export what is happening here in a pretty profound way. There&rsquo;s still room to grow, even in the 360 days out of the year that the fair isn&rsquo;t taking place. So many people don&rsquo;t recognize yet how many great artists are now living here and staying here, the number of galleries showing amazing work. Collectively we all have a responsibility to make sure nobody forgets that, &lsquo;Damn! There&rsquo;s a lotta good happening here.&rsquo; 
 
CGN: How do you sum up EXPO now for someone who doesn&rsquo;t know what an international art fair is?&nbsp; 
 
TK: To some extent, sadly, I have to reference another experience [like Art Basel Miami Beach] for those who don&rsquo;t realize we had that legacy once. I&rsquo;m going to start to change my tune a little bit and say we are that legacy again. There are 20 and 30 year olds who know what Art Basel Miami Beach is &ndash; I mean that is an extraordinary thing &ndash; but from 1979 until really the early 2000s, Chicago was the only place the international art world came to in North and South America. That&rsquo;s hard to imagine now, since there are so many fairs taking place around the world, but it basically started here. Now that we&rsquo;ve established EXPO, there&rsquo;s never a minute that we&rsquo;re not pushing to make another person more aware of what the fair is or what the scene is in Chicago. 
 
CGN: Are you headed for 10 next?&nbsp; 
 
TK: I&rsquo;m pleased we&rsquo;ve made it to five, and now I know we&rsquo;re continuing in the right direction. This fair has established a place where, I think even after year five, it&rsquo;s undeniable that it deserves to exist and has a future. I can&rsquo;t guarantee that; there are so many factors that can come into play, but I feel that it&rsquo;s not overconfident for me to say that the fair has its own energy.&nbsp; 
 
CGN: What makes Chicago so special for EXPO, as well as for emerging&nbsp;galleries in the fair and in the city?&nbsp; 
 
TK: I think Chicago overall, but especially the emerging art world players, deserve greater recognition. There&rsquo;s no question &ndash; I say this to collectors or&nbsp;curators who have been kind enough to&nbsp;be great supporters of the fair &ndash;they&rsquo;re&nbsp;really coming for them, after all. The collection of galleries at Navy Pier is important, as is the programming we put together, but the reason why a dealer is doing our fair or a collector or curator comes here is to see what&rsquo;s new and experience all that Chicago has to offer. I don&rsquo;t think there&rsquo;s been a time in my 35 years in Chicago that the curatorial teams of all of the institutions have ever been this strong. Or the artists graduating from our amazing schools have not only been this strong, but are finding a way to actually work here. Artists are figuring out that they can still be represented on the coasts or in Europe but have a great studio space here. That&rsquo;s something that we need to foster together, that this is a place where one can be a maker and still be represented and be tied into the international art world and not have to leave. The more that happens, the more the gallery scene becomes richer the more, more, more. I really do believe that this city&rsquo;s never been this strong, and that is why I keep saying the world wants to come here. 
 
 
EXPO Chicago 
At Navy Pier, September 22-25, 2016 
<a href="http://expochicago.com">expochicago.com</a>

Top image:&nbsp;Tony Karman. Photo by Paul Audia.

CGN interviews EXPO President & Director Tony Karman about the fifth edition of EXPO Chicago.

EXPO Chicago: Five Years and Counting

By GINNY VAN ALYEA 
 
Professor Lisa Wainwright is actually an East Coast transplant, someone who unexpectedly found her way to Chicago and stayed &ndash; an opposite path from so many in the art world who get their start here only to flee to the coasts. Living the life of a native Chicagoan today, she first came to the city 27 years ago via the University of Illinois, Champaign, where she befriended a group of people connected to the Art Institute of Chicago. A highly respected art historian, she is now Dean of Faculty and Vice President of Academic Affairs at the School of the Art Institute (SAIC). Most of all she is a fountain of knowledge on the ins and outs of the local art scene, with her finger on the pulse of the global creative community. 
 
CGN: Tell me how you first came to Chicago.&nbsp; 
 
Lisa Wainwright: The individual who started the Art History program at the School of the Art Institute, Sir Robert Loescher, he was knighted by the king of Spain &ndash; he was a Hispanist. A formidable teacher in Art History &ndash; the school is known for its art historians &ndash; Loescher and I met when I was a graduate student in Champaign, and immediately bonded around my work on Robert Rauschenberg, because he was a huge Rauschenberg fan. Loescher was one of the early historians to think about queer theory, and at the time I was working on gay iconography, including tube socks. A side note &ndash; Stefan Edlis and Gael Neeson&rsquo;s gift to the Art Institute includes an untitled, gorgeous Rauschenberg, and it has a parachute, and other typical Rauschenberg paraphernalia, but it has a tube sock, basically a gay fetish item. So, Bob and I bonded over this, and the next thing I knew, I went from studying tube socks to a full-time job in Chicago. I&rsquo;m from the East Coast, from Miami and then outside of Annapolis, Maryland, so I never imagined I would be in Chicago, never! But I dig it, I think it&rsquo;s a great city, and the art scene is pretty interesting.&nbsp; 
 
CGN: We always talk about stemming the tide the other way, in particular how to keep more of our art talent from leaving Chicago.&nbsp; 
 
LW: I think it&rsquo;s something about being a historian of modern and contemporary art and working in one of the top art schools in the country,&nbsp;connected to one of the most amazing&nbsp;museums in the world. I&rsquo;m not bookish, you know, and I love being around living artists and students who are attempting to move through the practice. As an art historian surrounded by working artists,&nbsp;why would I leave? So I never left. 
 
CGN: I don&rsquo;t blame you.&nbsp; 
 
LW: In all that time I&rsquo;ve moved up through AIC. I was a tenure track faculty, then I got tenure, then somebody said, &lsquo;Oh, you should try administration, we have these elected faculty positions &ndash; run for this. I said, &lsquo;What the hell? I&rsquo;ll run.&rsquo; Then I became the Graduate Dean, and when Carol Becker left, I became the Dean Dean.&nbsp; 
 
CGN: Are you still teaching? 
 
LW: I don&rsquo;t teach that much. I taught this pretty interesting class, recently, called Chicago Collections with Shane Campbell. It was the second time I taught it. We took graduate students into private homes in Chicago and looked at the amazing wealth of works in private collections. We talked to the collectors about their choices and their installation strategies and the market. Shane knows the ins and outs of what&rsquo;s going on in the gallery world, so that was super fun.&nbsp; 
 
CGN: So that was one recent course.&nbsp; 
 
LW: I teach every other year or so. I just wrapped up SAIC&rsquo;s first MOOC [Massive Open Online Course]. It&rsquo;s gone live (<a href="http://kadenze.com">kadenze.com</a>) and it&rsquo;s called Touring Modernism: From the French Avant Garde to American Pop and Beyond. It&rsquo;s 200 years of art history &ndash; Western art history. I&rsquo;ve spent the last year writing the script, and filming. I went to LA to film &ndash; when in my life will I ever be able to say that again? Never. I used the Art Institute as the primary collection, and several AIC curators appear in the videos. They&rsquo;re going to keep rolling it out. This round it goes through, I think, September or October, and then they&rsquo;re going to launch it again. And it&rsquo;s free. It&rsquo;s online. Anyone can take it. 
 
CGN: What do the students do? Do they just sit there and watch videos?&nbsp;Is there course work?&nbsp; 
 
LW: There are quizzes; there are some assignments. The big project at the end, if you take it for credit, uses this system so that you basically design a gallery and then you drop images in and curate a show virtually. 
 
CGN: Playing paper dolls. It&rsquo;s like a game. 
 
LW: I mean, curators do that, you know. 
I&rsquo;m excited to see what they do at the end with the course, but that&rsquo;s been a lot of work &ndash; oh my God! I used to teach the big freshman survey, from cave paintings to Anselm Kiefer; I taught the second half, so 19th and 20th century essentially. 
 
CGN: It&rsquo;s been a long time since I took Art History.&nbsp; 
 
LW: Right, but you remember. You&rsquo;re going through hundreds and hundreds of slides. I had all of those notes and I dusted that off with my usual feminist bent &ndash; I&rsquo;m pretty much an angry feminist when it comes to the history of art. Too many images of objectified women, and not enough women artists. 
 
CGN: It&rsquo;s getting better. There&rsquo;s still work to do.&nbsp; 
 
LW: Boy, is there still work to do. 
 
CGN: Do you think that more women artists are being recognized today, or not? The numbers are a little better. 
 
LW: Yeah, it&rsquo;s kind of like the Linda Nochlin problem. Nochlin wrote that famous essay in the 70s, Why Are There No Great Women Artists? And it&rsquo;s because the artists weren&rsquo;t allowed into the art schools mostly. In the 19th century, the Royal Academy had three women, and then they weren&rsquo;t allowed to draw from the nude, and it was Realism in the History of Painting, so you&rsquo;re kinda screwed.&nbsp; 
 
I think, yes, things have changed, post-1970, and we&rsquo;re even discovering more female artists from the 60s and 50s, but still, in comparison, I mean when you talk about the 19th century and early 20th century, it&rsquo;s a boy&rsquo;s game.&nbsp; 
 
CGN: What&rsquo;s the difference today?&nbsp; 
 
LW: It&rsquo;s interesting because SAIC is, I want to say, 65% or 67% women. That&rsquo;s a lot of women. 
 
We&rsquo;ve definitely gotten more global, too. You can&rsquo;t teach a contemporary art course today and only talk about western art history; that would be highly problematic, so you&rsquo;ve got to talk about Asia and Africa and South America as well. 
 
CGN: You travel a lot.&nbsp; 
 
LW: I do travel a lot. I just got back from Italy, where I saw the Christo site. It&rsquo;s stunning in photos, but to be there, you don&rsquo;t have the same vista and you don&rsquo;t have the same perspective, and it was like a big pier. It undulates, but I mean it also was 90 degrees. With 100,000 people. It was Italian craziness at its best, and you know, the thing about Christo, it&rsquo;s an event, and you don&rsquo;t know what&rsquo;s gonna happen and there were all these people &ndash; it very much reminded me of the Seurat painting of Sunday Afternoon on the Island of Le Grande Jatte because it was the masses of all classes and shapes and sizes and they were lounging on this vivid golden drape on the blue water and that was kinda beautiful. But Christo is smart, he know&rsquo;s that media is the lens. It looks great in photographs, it looks great on television. It&rsquo;s a spectacle. You get everybody asking, &ldquo;Is this art?&rdquo; I love that question. 
 
CGN: You see the world, and then what do you see when you return home to Chicago?&nbsp; 
 
LW: I think Chicago is completely in the running of major cities and major art experiences. I mean there is a smaller number of galleries compared to some art centers, but from Shane Campbell, to Rhona Hoffman to the old standards like Zolla/Lieberman and Carl Hammer, and then all the Julius Caesars and alternative spaces, there is some really exceptional energy here. This summer, for instance, I went from Kerry James Marshall at the MCA down to the Terracotta Warriors at the Field in a day, and I thought, &lsquo;Yeah, this is all Chicago,&rsquo; from the high art to the general interest in all kinds of expressions that the Imagists enjoyed so much. I can&rsquo;t even get to everything, so what does that mean?&nbsp; 
 
CGN: What else sets Chicago apart for you?&nbsp; 
 
LW: I think Chicago is one of the most important cities for public sculpture. There&rsquo;s no city that has the Picasso that we have. I don&rsquo;t think there is another public Picasso in the United States.&nbsp; 
 
The collection throughout the city is great. From Oldenberg&rsquo;s [baseball] bat to Anish Kapoor&rsquo;s Cloud Gate, the Crown Fountain, even the 19th century and early 20th century sculpture in the city is terrific. It&rsquo;s a great walking city for architecture as well for sculpture.&nbsp;I always bicycle by the Richard Serra [Reading Cones] &ndash; it&rsquo;s out there, very lonely and minimalist power punk that it is. You can see the [Buckingham] fountain if you look through the slit, if you catch it right, which is cool. 
 
CGN: There&rsquo;s a lot of overlap between art and design and architecture in Chicago; all those things exist here in a unique way.&nbsp; 
 
LW: From the Logan Center to the Block Museum, and the Smart and the Renaissance Society, I think there are a lot of amazing artists and intellectuals in Chicago who work within art and design. This is a rich, rich, rich city. 
&nbsp;

CGN interviews Lisa Wainwright, a fountain of knowledge on the ins and outs of the local art scene, with her finger on the pulse of the global creative community. 

SAIC’s Lisa Wainwright: A Native Transplant

By GINNY VAN ALYEA

&nbsp;

GV: Tell me a little about your Chicago Artists Coalition BOLT residency.

SB: The 2015-2016 BOLT residency has been a wonderful experience, and I was thrilled to be accepted. The residency is a year-long assignment for 10 artists who work in a variety of mediums. We have monthly meetings and meet different curators from various organizations, which is such a gift. We have a group show and then a final solo show. Recently, Michael Darling, Chief Curator at the MCA, came to visit our studios, which was amazing.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

GV: For your residency exhibition this summer you&rsquo;re showing portraiture, a classic subject, using somewhat outdated equipment. What role does technology play in your work?&nbsp;

SB: I am making portraits without a camera. I use a scanner like an old fashioned box camera. Each image takes at least two minutes and has a section that is hyper sharp and then other sections with a shallow depth of field. The images reference various aspects of the history of and truths in photography and also speak to our close and complicated relationship with technology.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

GV: Does your new series continue or depart from themes in previous work?

SB: Both. For over a decade I have been looking at various aspects of our landscape with and through various new technologies &ndash; first, digital cameras and printers, and then camera phones &ndash; the cameras most of us use. My last body of work, the Walk series, featured landscapes that almost became self portraits. The photographs are comprised of 100 steps in various walks I took over the course of two years. The images are performative and time-based. These issues are also in my current portrait series. The images are not instantaneous; they take about two minutes to complete. Movement occurs while the sitter is scanned. No image can be replicated because of this. The subjects work with me to create their images. They are almost self portraits, but not quite selfies.&nbsp;

<img alt="" data-caption="Suzette Bross, Walk 2/7/14 Brooklyn Museum, New York (2:01:03-2:02:00pm)" data-rich-file-id="1108" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/1108/original/07-suzettebross.jpg" />

&nbsp;

GV: How do you fit art into your already very busy life? You truly are one of the busiest people I know.&nbsp;

SB: On the fly and in between!&nbsp;

&nbsp;

GV: What will you explore next?&nbsp;

SB: I am really excited to start my next project. It is broadly about homelessness in Chicago, and I have been lucky enough to work with Heartland Alliance and Streetwise.

&nbsp;

Suzette Bross is a Chicago-based photographer. Her work is in the permanent collections of The Art Institute of Chicago; The National Gallery of Art; Cleveland Museum of Art; Museum of Contemporary Photography, Chicago; the Block Museum; and more.&nbsp;

For the Glass opens June 3, 6-9pm at the Chicago Artists Coalition, 217 N Carpenter (60607). <a href="http://suzettebross.com">suzettebross.com</a>

&nbsp;

Top images from left to right: Suzette Bross,&nbsp;Portrait No. 2, Suzette, Archival Pigment Print, 2015;&nbsp;Portrait No. 1, Teresa, Archival Pigment Print, 2015;&nbsp;Portrait No. 3, Molly, Archival Pigment Print, 2015

&nbsp;

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Interview with photographer Suzette Bross, Chicago 2016

Photographer Suzette Bross: On the Fly

By KEVIN NANCE

There&rsquo;s a widely held perception that to build a significant art collection, you have to be rich. But Nancy and Bob Mollers, down-to-earth Chicago natives who describe themselves as of relatively modest means compared to the high-flying collectors who snap up blue-chip pieces at Sotheby&rsquo;s, have spent most of their life together demonstrating that you don&rsquo;t have to be wealthy to collect art. What&rsquo;s required instead is commitment, discernment and, most of all, lots of time.

For nearly half a century, Bob, now a retired teacher and ceramic artist, and Nancy, a retired risk-management executive, have spent much of their time and resources looking at, studying and acquiring art&mdash;almost all of it by emerging artists.&nbsp;

Today, the couple&rsquo;s 2,300-square-foot West Loop condo is a destination of choice for art students, museum curators and other collectors who want to see what&rsquo;s achievable on what Bob Mollers calls &ldquo;a shoestring budget.&rdquo;

The answer: plenty. The Mollers apartment fairly bulges with art, much of it bearing testament to their good taste and deep knowledge of the contemporary art world. The highlight of the 300-piece collection, displayed in and near a hallway shielded from direct sunlight, is a fine group of works on paper by Jim Nutt, John Currin, Nicole Eisenman, Sol LeWit and several others. Displayed elsewhere are works by Mel Bochner, Adam Pendleton, Kehinde Wiley, Damien Hirst, Wolfgang Tillmans, Erik Parker, Tony Tasset, Thomas Hirschhorn, Nan Goldin, Dan Peterman, Jeanne Dunning, Spencer Finch, William J. O&rsquo;Brien, Ruth Duckworth, Joyce Pensato, Stanley Whitney and Roger Brown, among many others. The late Chicago Imagist Ed Paschke has a special place in the Mollers&rsquo; collection in that an early work, Jointed Heel, was one of their first acquisitions in 1971; Nance, a Paschke portrait of Nancy Mollers, followed in 1975.

Chicago Gallery News recently toured the Mollers collection and sat down for a chat. Here&rsquo;s an edited transcript.

&nbsp;

CGN: How did you meet?

Bob: We met 50 years ago on the Kedzie bus, going to North Park University.

Nancy: I sat down next to him on the bus. I knew he was also going to North Park, so I decided to go for it, and started a conversation, which was very atypical for me. (Laughs.)&nbsp;

<img alt="" data-caption="Nancy Mollers seated in front of Ed Paschke’s portrait of her, Nance. Photo by Kevin Nance." data-rich-file-id="1104" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/1104/original/nancy-mollers-6.jpg" />

CGN: And the rest was history. When did you start collecting together?

Bob: We&rsquo;ve been asked that a million times, and basically I always say we didn&rsquo;t &ldquo;start&rdquo; collecting. That is something that evolves slowly. It isn&rsquo;t like we decided one day, &ldquo;Let&rsquo;s starting collecting art.&rdquo; It was a natural, slow process for us. We didn&rsquo;t have much money&mdash;we still don&rsquo;t&mdash;so we always bought things on a tight budget.

Nancy: And neither of us had an art background or families interested in art. So it was a pursuit we developed together since we began dating.&nbsp;

Bob: We just liked going to galleries in the Chicago area, looking at art a lot, and now and then we&rsquo;d stretch and buy something. We focused on young artists, mostly because it was more affordable. After about a year of this, we decided, &ldquo;Let&rsquo;s collect only living artists.&rdquo; We&rsquo;ve stuck to that ever since.&nbsp;

Nancy: That&rsquo;s our only rule.

Bob: Nancy and I would be doing this even if nobody else was doing it. By which I mean, we&rsquo;re not into collecting because of social interaction with other collectors or whatnot. We do it because we just love it. It stimulates the intellect. It&rsquo;s visually interesting. And it keeps you young. There&rsquo;s always something new and intriguing going on in the contemporary art world.&nbsp;

<img alt="" data-caption="Bob walking in the collection" data-rich-file-id="1101" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/1101/original/20150324-100906.jpg" />

CGN: A lot of people start collecting figurative art and then transition to more abstract work. Has that been the case with you?

Nancy: I think it was a mix all along.&nbsp;

Bob: When we started in the early 70s, we collected a lot of the Imagists, who were mostly figurative. The Bay Area Funk movement, which we also collected, was largely figurative. But we also collected abstract art early on. Of course we don&rsquo;t still own some of that early work; we&rsquo;ve donated about 100 pieces to museums already. After about 15 years of our marriage, Nancy made a professional move to Houston, so we were in that community also, and we placed a lot of our Chicago artists into Texas museum collections. More recently we&rsquo;ve donated several works on paper to the Art Institute of Chicago. But good art is good art, whether it&rsquo;s figurative, abstract, conceptual, whatever. It&rsquo;s true that we don&rsquo;t get into video.

Nancy: We don&rsquo;t have a place for it.&nbsp;

Bob: And of course we don&rsquo;t collect things that are too big. We like to be comfortable with what we live with.&nbsp;

<img alt="" data-caption="Students visiting the collection" data-rich-file-id="1103" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/1103/original/dsc05029.jpg" />

CGN: Has where you&rsquo;ve lived influenced your collecting?&nbsp;

Bob: For her work in Houston, Nancy traveled to Europe fairly often, and I would go with her and we&rsquo;d look at art. But it&rsquo;s also true that Art Chicago was a great thing for us, in that it would bring in art from galleries around the world that we knew nothing about. It was like a crash course in contemporary art. I have never missed a single one of the art fairs, and Nancy saw most of them.

&nbsp;

CGN: How do you go about acquiring pieces? I know you rarely do auctions.

Bob: Most of the time we find works we really like through galleries. You walk in and see things you like or you ask about other works by that artist.

Nancy: We don&rsquo;t necessarily discover artists at art galleries.&nbsp;

Bob: Sometimes we do. And nowadays we use the computer a lot. Galleries send us their openings, or they&rsquo;ll send a list of things they&rsquo;re bringing to the art fairs. It&rsquo;s totally different from the way we started, when you had none of that. Now I can see a show online anywhere in the world. If I have a question, I can get a response quickly. Years ago, if you were inquiring about something in Italy, you never even knew if the letter got there. Two months later, you might get a reply, but the image might be a terrible photograph.&nbsp;

<img alt="" data-caption="Bob and a guest listening to an Isa Genzken &quot;Radio&quot;" data-rich-file-id="1102" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/1102/original/img-2942.jpg" />

CGN: Are there certain galleries you work with more often than others?

Bob: In the beginning, we worked with local galleries basically, although many of those galleries no longer exist. Some, like Zolla/Lieberman and Rhona Hoffman, are still around. Certainly we never stayed with just one gallery anywhere. As time has gone on, we&rsquo;ve gotten to enjoy the program at Rhona&rsquo;s, Corbett vs. Dempsey and Shane Campbell. There&rsquo;s a new gallery in town, Patron, that I think has great potential. But we&rsquo;re not captive to any particular gallery.

&nbsp;

CGN: Do you use an art advisor?

Nancy: No. We like doing our own thing.&nbsp;

Bob: And now basically the entire collection is in trust to various museums. The curators come and select the works they want every few years. Sometimes there are three or four museums that want the same piece, so you have to make that selection. But our intent is that after we both pass away, our trust funds will continue to do what we love doing, which is acquiring works by living artists. We&rsquo;ve got that set up. &nbsp;

Nancy: Any remaining assets that we have will be in an endowment fund that the Art Institute&rsquo;s Prints and Drawings Department can use to purchase additional works for years to come.

&nbsp;

CGN: You often open your collection to art classes. What&rsquo;s that like?

Bob: They&rsquo;re generally very attentive, extremely interested. It&rsquo;s very exciting for them, I think, to see a collection like this outside of a museum. Oftentimes they ask&mdash;

Nancy: &ldquo;What&rsquo;s your favorite work?&rdquo;&nbsp;

Bob: And we tell them there isn&rsquo;t a favorite. If there was a fire, there isn&rsquo;t one piece that we&rsquo;d run out with.

Nancy: It&rsquo;s like asking who&rsquo;s your favorite child.&nbsp;

Bob: Sometimes it&rsquo;s the latest piece you&rsquo;ve acquired, or the piece that you&rsquo;re trying to acquire. If I were to walk into a collection and wanted to get an idea of how it developed, I would ask to be shown the earliest piece and the latest piece. That would show me the evolution.

&nbsp;

CGN: In any case, it must be a treat for the students, coming here.

Bob: I hope so. We allow them to photograph the collection, which many collectors don&rsquo;t allow. One student contacted me recently and said she wants to write her thesis on our collection. I said, &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll help you out as much as possible.&rdquo; I love having the opportunity to meet young people who enjoy what we enjoy. The fact that they&rsquo;re able to be in what I call an upper-middle-class home that has spent 40-plus years acquiring art by generally younger artists&mdash;they understand the significance and the beauty of that.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

CGN: It&rsquo;s interesting, Bob, given your background as a ceramic artist, that the collection doesn&rsquo;t include many pieces in that medium.

Bob: We used to have a lot more pieces, but their fragility became an issue. And there was somebody we knew who was building a massive ceramic collection, and so our pieces ended up in his collection.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

CGN: There&rsquo;s a sort of diaspora of your collection.

Bob: That&rsquo;s right. We do place art in a few friends&rsquo; homes. There&rsquo;s one friend in the suburbs who has about 40 of our pieces. We also give art, just outright, to friends. It keeps on going.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

Kevin Nance is a Chicago-based freelance writer. His work appears in the Chicago Tribune, the Washington Post, USA Today, Poets &amp; Writers Magazine and other publications. Follow him on Twitter @KevinNance1&nbsp;

Kevin Nance interview with Nancy and Bob Mollers, Chicago art collectors

Nancy and Bob Mollers: Down-to-Earth Collectors

BY GINNY VAN ALYEA

Carl Hammer has been in the art business for nearly 40 years, but his journey to being one of the most well-respected dealers in Chicago started when he was an Evanston High School English teacher during a tumultous time in the nation&rsquo;s history.&nbsp;

Today, Hammer runs a gallery program from a historic building on North Wells Street in the heart of River North. Exhibitions feature work that alternates between that of noted Outsider artists like Lee Godie and Henry Darger, and contemporary art by Michael Hernandez de Luna, an artist who cleverly works with stamps, and graphic novelist Chris Ware. Hammer sees himself as a bit of an outsider, since he never had any formal art training, and it&rsquo;s his inherent curiosity and self-awareness that continues to guide his explorations and discoveries.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

CGN: Tell us a little about how you got into the art business, and how did you come to focus on Outsider art?&nbsp;

CH: As a high school English teacher in Evanston during the &lsquo;60s and &lsquo;70s, I, along with my wife, decided that we should begin collecting art. Due to the political and civil rights upheaval the country was experiencing, we decided to collect &ldquo;grass roots&rdquo; art, a term that one commonly used during that period, based on a concept of how one should live. Without fully understanding what grass roots art might be, I knew I wanted our collecting to fully integrate the ethnicity and politics of inclusiveness. Teaching at Evanston High School provided the incentive for me to do just that. During school vacations, we traveled around the country by car and looked for our interpretation of &ldquo;grass roots&rdquo; art and artists. As we did we began discovering the world of the self-taught artist. These were people who often lived in out of the way places, where they were compelled to invent and discover ways to express who they were and what they thought, without being trained nor realizing that they were creating art. The term &ldquo;Outsider&rdquo; hadn&rsquo;t been invented yet. Vernacular art, folk art, art brut, self-taught art was used in its place. In 1972 Roger Cardinale, a professor at the University of Kent, coined the phrase Outsider Art as a synonym of art brut, or art created outside the established scene, much as Dubuffet did in finding work which helped to establish his well known art aesthetic.&nbsp;

The Chicago Imagists were also major and instinctive collectors/foragers of this kind of art, and it figured greatly in the creation of their own style/genre of creating art.

The business of selling art followed suit with our interest in collecting it and doing something within the art world that was somewhat unique, yet kept within the parameters of our own idealism at that time.

&nbsp;

CGN: You&rsquo;re known for keeping up with emerging talent. What&rsquo;s your approach to finding new artists?&nbsp;

CH: I have let the same principles of discovering outsiders guide me in finding emerging talent. I travel a lot to see work by different up and coming artists. I visit all of the graduate thesis shows that I can. Not having been instructed in art making or criticism, I&rsquo;ve been somewhat freer to look beyond the prescribed components one should be looking for in creating art or in becoming an artist.

&nbsp;

CGN: What do you think about the ever-growing business of art fairs and its impact on galleries?&nbsp;

CH: Carl Hammer Gallery became known early on because we were, in our second year, invited to participate in Chicago&rsquo;s Art Expo. My first time at Expo I wall-papered my booth with work by the newly discovered Bill Traylor. We nearly sold everything. Traylor went on to become a super star with galleries and collectors throughout the world. It was a remarkable phenomenon back then. But the proliferation of art fairs today seems to have become competitive with the old notion that clients establish loyal relationships with galleries and purchase work because they identify with the aesthetic of a particular gallery. Now, collectors seem to align themselves with the art fairs as a way to build art collections. &nbsp;

&nbsp;

CGN: What are the most striking changes you have experienced in the local as well as national art scenes?

CH: My gallery&rsquo;s 37 years of existence have been a tremendous experience, due to connections with people and, especially, in the discovery process of finding new ideas expressing the essential components of our being human. I don&rsquo;t know what&rsquo;s in store for us as collectors/gallerists here in Chicago, our nation and world-wide. Certainly, today&rsquo;s average person is more engaged than ever in the pursuit of finding meaning in life through art, and our acquisition of it and appreciation for art in our daily lives. &nbsp;

Regarding the future of the River North art district, I do not like to think of a time when it eventually meets with its demise. On the other hand, River North itself was the reincarnation of a decades old art district once thriving at North Michigan Ave. and Ohio St. Perhaps, like the proverbial Phoenix rising from the ashes, there will be a rebirth of a similar River North elsewhere.

&nbsp;

<a href="http://carlhammergallery.com">carlhammergallery.com</a>

&nbsp;

Pictured at top of page: Carl Hammer in his gallery, in front of Mary Lou Zelazny&rsquo;s The Eyed Tree #4, 2015 Acrylic, collage, oil on canvas, 48&rdquo; x 60&rdquo;

Carl Hammer: 37 Years an Outsider

An interview between Chicago-based artist Claire Ashley and Chicago Gallery News. Claire Ashley’s work blurs the lines between painting, sculpture, installation, and performance. It evokes feelings of playfulness and curiosity; a desire to touch and feel and interact. It’s fun. The artist has stated that contemporary art takes itself too seriously, and her work is the perfect antidote for this plague.

Claire Ashley: The Evolution of Surprise

<figure class="image"><img></figure>&nbsp;By FRANCK MERCURIO“I never really enjoyed going to galleries,” confesses Patrick Hull, 45, owner and director of Vertical Gallery. “I always felt like I’d walk in, and it wasn’t the right environment for me.”That all changed, however, when Hull became enamored with street art and began visiting galleries in San Francisco that featured the work of prominent urban artists. The vibe, for Hull, in these specialized galleries was different from those that sold more conventional art.“I found [the atmosphere] very approachable,” explains Hull. “You could go to the openings and meet the artists. It really spoke to me that they were allowing everybody to see their art—it wasn’t exclusive.”Hull is a former marketing VP for Birkenstock and Woodruff-Sawyer &amp; Co., and by all accounts, was tremendously successful in his previous career. But three years ago, he left the corporate world, bid farewell to his long-time home in San Francisco, and moved across the country to establish Vertical Gallery in Chicago’s Ukrainian Village neighborhood.Vertical features a constantly changing roster of urban and street artists, some of whom are just getting established and others with international prominence. It’s a mix that Hull felt was missing from the Chicago art scene.“Even though there were some galleries exhibiting this type of art [in Chicago], I didn’t feel like they were showing what I was seeing in London, Paris, New York, LA, or San Francisco,” explains Hull. “So, I decided to bring this hybrid of local, national, and international urban street artists here.”Since opening Vertical in 2013, Hull has shown the work of many well known artists, including Ben EINE, OAKOAK, Shepard Fairey, and StinkFish. Perhaps Hull’s most famous local artist is Hebru Brantley, whose public murals are popping-up around the city. Brantley has even designed shoes for Nike’s Jordan Brand.“Hebru is primarily a gallery artist, but he loves getting out on the street,” says Hull, referring to Brantley’s public murals. “He’s done graffiti before in the past, and then went into film, and now he’s a full-time artist. We did a very successful, sold-out solo show with him in June.”Which begs the question, how does one sell “street” art—a genre that is typically created for free for public consumption—within a gallery context?“Some of the artists we work with are definitely studio artists, like Hebru,” explains Hull. “While Ben EINE is a graffiti artist, he has a whole body of [outdoor public] work that he’s transformed to be shown in a gallery space.”“I wasn’t exactly sure how OAKOAK would interpret his art for the gallery space,” adds Hull, referring to the French street artist known for his clever public interventions featuring visual puns. “But I think it’s brilliant what he’s done with composition, making his art interactive within a frame.”Indeed, in OAKOAK’s recent solo show at Vertical Gallery, cartoon like figures physically bust through mats that surround his images. In other works, gargantuan movie monsters—including Godzilla and the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man—invade the ready-made landscapes of vintage French posters. Even though these smaller works are made for commercial consumption, they stay true to the intentions of OAKOAK’s signature public works.In addition to bringing street artists from around the world to Chicago, Hull also helps coordinate public commissions of their work here in the city. He’s connected to private building owners, as well as business and non-profit organizations, such as the West Town Chamber of Commerce and the Wabash Arts Corridor, who commission large-scale mural installations. Recently, Hull has helped facilitate public murals by Ben EINE, Never2501, and Hebru Brantley. Four more are planned for 2016, including murals by Collin van der Sluijs, Seth Globepainter, HERA, and a second by Ben EINE.“When I work with the artist, I try to find out what kind of space they want, scale-wise, and try to get some funding and get their work out there,” says Hull. “It’s great PR—I mean, a smart artist will definitely realize that ‘If I get a 240-foot-long mural, that’s going to mean a million people will see my work who never knew my work existed.’”April 2016 marks the third anniversary of Vertical Gallery, and Hull is planning a special group exhibition featuring three well-known artist duos: Jana and JS, Ella and Pitr, and Expanded Eye. An opening reception will take place Saturday, April&nbsp; 2, 6-10pm. Upcoming solo shows will feature Collin van der Sluijs, Greg Gossel, and HERA, perhaps the best known female street artist working today. All exhibition openings will incorporate Hull’s welcoming, accessible approach to visitors.“If you come to one of our openings, you will see a wide range of people in one room, and it’s really great,” says Hull. “I love that we can bring people together.”Vertical Gallery 1016 N. Western, Chicago (60622) <a href="http://www.verticalgallery.com">www.verticalgallery.com</a>

An interview with art dealer Patrick Hull

Dealer Patrick Hull’s Street Art Gallery

<html><head></head><body><figure class="image"><img src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dfafo598z/image/upload/v1721418210/bj6amv3bnunbiiln8fop.jpg"></figure>By KEVIN NANCEJudith Tullman has a special name for the Art Loft, the office/clubhouse/gallery space of her husband, the entrepreneur, venture capitalist and prolific art collector Howard Tullman. She calls it “The Breast Home.”No wonder. Perhaps one-third of the roughly 1,200 pieces on display in the 6,000-square-foot loft are paintings and drawings of nudes. The vast majority of them are female, and most are naturalistic in style, including several photorealistic pieces lifelike enough to appear in Playboy.Overall, Tullman’s collection is merrily eclectic, if almost exclusively figurative, and includes sculpture, paintings and works on paper. Most of the pieces are by young and/or emerging artists from Chicago and around the world (especially Germany and Mexico) who exude a youthful, often alternative or outsider sensibility. Several are witty, impish riffs on pop-culture figures, including David Hevel’s sculptures of Britney Spears and Jessica Simpson made of taxidermied animals, and Lizabeth Eva Rossof’s faux-Chinese warriors referencing Batman and Bart Simpson. One large painting, I’ll Have What She’s Having by John Jacobsmeyer, is a Renaissance-fair parody of the famous scene from&nbsp;Rob Reiner’s romantic comedy “When Harry Met Sally…,” with Linda Lovelace, Harry Reems and other 1970s pornography stars acting out the parts. (The exception is the director’s mother, Estelle, who appears in the painting in her original role as the speaker of the title phrase.)But there’s also an elephant in the room, and she is bodacious indeed. Visitors to the Art Loft are routinely dazzled by the display of pulchritude—which is housed at the loft, rather than at Tullman’s home, out of deference to the wishes of his wife and co-collector, Judith, whose artistic tastes lie elsewhere. &nbsp;&nbsp;Would it be accurate to classify Tullman, 70, as an admirer of the female form?“Yeah, I’d say that,” he concedes with a you-got-me smile during a recent visit. “But I also have to say, what I really admire is the execution of a lot of these artists; it is quite extraordinary.”Tullman isn’t kidding. Gazing at a realistic painting by New York artist Jenny Morgan of a young nude woman standing in a swimming pool, he says the most interesting part of the work for him is the highly accomplished way Morgan has rendered the water in the pool. “Now, I realize that that’s like saying you read Playboy for the articles, but it’s true,” he says. In front of a different painting—this of a young woman kneeling in a bathtub, presenting her glistening derriere to the viewer—Tullman focuses on the bathtub rather than its occupant. “That’s someone’s rear end, I get that,” he says. “[But] the most complicated thing for the artist is to represent water and motion.”To some extent, Tullman’s focus on the figure is an outgrowth of his desire to narrow the choices he’s forced to make as a busy executive who also happens to be an art collector. “I think it’s almost impossible to keep on top of what’s going on in the art world across all its different dimensions,” he says. “One of the ways I’ve addressed the glut—just the sheer volume—has been to say to the galleries I work with, ‘Please don’t send me an abstract piece or a landscape.’ My philosophy has been that I want to see the world’s best examples of realist, figurative representations. That’s how I’ve made my life more manageable as a collector, and that’s how I explain the concentration. Certainly I don’t acquire things to aggravate my wife or make her life more difficult.”At the same time, Tullman—a restless business innovator whose latest enterprise is a technology startup incubator called 1871, whose offices at the Merchandise Mart now house parts of his art collection—seems to enjoy his reputation as a sort of art-world Hugh Hefner. He tells with evident pleasure an anecdote of the president of a company who was photographed at the loft, but the next day, a member of his staff called and said, “Can we come back? We need to take different pictures.”&nbsp; All of the artwork shown in the background, it turned out, featured nude female figures, perky as can be.*Tullman’s interest in the figure dates back to his early years as a collector when, as a young corporate lawyer, he and his wife came to know several of the Chicago Imagists, the Pop-and-Surrealist-influenced group that included Ed Paschke, Roger Brown, Jim Nutt, Gladys Nilsson and others. The Tullmans amassed a significant collection of Imagist painting, almost all of it figurative, before donating most of it to the University of Chicago’s Smart Museum of Art about two decades ago.Tullman then found himself attracted primarily to photorealism—again with the figure front and center—before drifting away from that genre, which he came to regard as too technical, in favor of somewhat less naturalistically drawn or painted works with greater subjectivity, drama and storytelling. “Over the years, photorealism became a little boring,” he says. “These things were pristine but had no story, no particular emotion. After a while, they didn’t seem as alive as some of the pieces which are a little looser in technique but have more personality and more narrative.”During the past decade or so, Tullman has increasingly bought sculpture—much of which, in high contrast to the naturalism of the two-dimensional work in the collection, is decidedly non-realistic. Examples include works by two Chicago artists: Joe Seigenthaler’s Fly Dog, a striking male figure with a canine face hovering mournfully at the top of a ladder near Tullman’s desk, and another large piece, by Christophe Roberts, resembling a neon orange lion made from Nike shoeboxes carved up with an X-Acto knife.In these choices, as in so many others, Tullman sometimes differs from his wife. At one art fair, a quirky sculpture of a policeman prompted Judith Tullman to ask, “Who in the world would buy that?” The answer, she later discovered, was her husband.&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;“Howard has a taste for the bizarre,” says Linda Warren, one of three Chicago art dealers—the others are Ann Nathan and Carl Hammer—with whom Tullman works most often. “He likes a lot of things that are just weird. He likes nudes, he likes eroticism, and he likes things that reflect subcultures: young people, people with tattoos, people with a very 21st-century mentality. He also likes very strong images that are almost iconic from the beginning; there’s not a lot of subtlety in what he goes for. You walk in there and go, ‘Whoa! This guy’s a wild man.’ But there’s nothing amateur about the work he collects; there’s a cohesiveness to the insanity. And you know, he wouldn’t be where he is today if he didn’t think outside of the box all the time.”*The other major element that has shaped Tullman’s collection is his commitment to supporting young and emerging artists (the latter group including several painters and sculptors who turned to making art after long careers in other fields). Unlike many collectors in Chicago and elsewhere who keep artists at arm’s length by dealing exclusively with gallerists, the Tullmans are in direct, regular contact with many of the artists they collect.“As a young lawyer and having friends who were struggling artists, it seemed reasonable that we should spend some of the money we were earning to support what they were doing, which we thought was (a) more fun and (b) certainly more rewarding than being a corporate lawyer,” Tullman recalls. “That’s how we got connected with some of the earlier Imagists. They were trying to make a go of it, practicing their art, and it was a very challenging time. It’s always been a challenging time for young artists.”Today, the Tullmans work with about 20 galleries around the world that “regularly keep us in the loop on new work by artists that we have and, more importantly, work by artists that they think we should see,” he says. “Most of the artists in the collection keep us abreast of what they’re doing. A number of them are also teachers, so they feel free, and sort of make it their business, to call our attention to new artists that they think are worthy. Sometimes these artists are their students, or just young artists they’ve been exposed to one way or another.”It’s that generosity, in part, that has earned the Tullmans the respect and affection of much of the Chicago art community. “Unlike a lot of collectors, Howard doesn’t feel like he has to have a lot of blue-chip artists hanging on his walls,” Hammer says. “He’s more interested in taking risks, taking a chance, and expressing confidence in the new artists coming along. Here’s a guy who can afford pieces by established artists, but he seems to have this vision of moving the next generation along, which is a great thing.”Unlike many collectors who acquire pieces only after lengthy deliberation, Tullman is known for his quick trigger finger. “Someone comes along and he makes an acquaintance with them, or he sees their work somewhere, and he just buys it,” Hammer says. Adds Warren: “I told one artist, ‘Howard Tullman’s going to buy this.’ And the second he got the exhibit invitation, Howard picked up the phone and said, ‘How much is that?’”It helps, of course, if the piece features a figure. If she’s not overly burdened with clothing, so much the better.Top image: Howard Tullman at ease among his art. Photo: Kevin Nance.12/17/15:&nbsp;Editor’s note: Because of inaccurate information given to reporter Kevin Nance, an earlier, printed version of this article in the January-April 2016 issue of CGN misattributed the phrase “Breast Home.”&nbsp;&nbsp;</body></html>

An interview with art collector Howard Tullman

An Art World Figure: Howard Tullman

<html><head></head><body><figure class="image"><img src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dfafo598z/image/upload/v1721418546/bntuzrijyowqsswgxr4p.gif"></figure>By KEVIN NANCESince the mid-1970s, Rhona Hoffman has been a force in the Chicago art world and beyond—a fact enshrined last December by Vanity Fair magazine, which named her one of America’s 14 most important female art dealers.&nbsp;Known for showing a mix of formal and/or politically engaged work by artists at various points in their careers, Hoffman’s eponymous gallery has established a track record and reputation far larger than its relatively modest digs in the West Loop. If you’re an artist in Chicago, or one from elsewhere looking for a prime showcase in the Midwest, the Rhona Hoffman Gallery is high on your list. And if you’re a collector with an eye for the latest and greatest in contemporary art, you head to 118 N. Peoria Street.&nbsp;Chicago Gallery News recently caught up with Hoffman—who was working with her staff to prepare the gallery’s booth design for this fall’s EXPO CHICAGO—for an interview in her light-and-art-filled office. Here’s an edited transcript of our chat.&nbsp;CGN: Has your work as an art dealer been affected at all by you being a woman?RH: No, although with the exception perhaps of a Marian Goodman or a Barbara Gladstone or maybe a few others, generally the superpowers in the art world are men, both in America and Europe.&nbsp;&nbsp;You’re talking about people like Larry Gagosian?Gagosian, yes. But Hauser &amp; Wirth are even bigger. David Zwirner. They are eclipsing a number of bigger, male-owned galleries. The men tend to go for the big paintings, the big prices. But there are still very powerful women dealers all over the world. Paula Cooper is still there. Marianne Boesky’s becoming a big deal. In Europe, there’s Monika Sprüth. In São Paulo, there’s Luisa Strina. In fact, there are more women who are dealers than there are men who are dealers. But the price points are generally lower. I hate broad generalizations, but in great measure, women dealers tend to show art that sells for considerably less than the men. And what’s happening now—which is really horrifying—is that certain big galleries are waiting for the depth of the artist to be developed. As a less-monied gallery develops the artist—has shows, takes them to art fairs, takes care of them, brings them to the world, makes them popular—along comes Mr. Big Fish and says, “Come with me, little girl or little boy. I can make you even more popular.” It’s always been the case, but it’s happening more now.&nbsp;Have you been on the receiving end of that?Not yet. (Thinks about it.) Yes, I have, actually.&nbsp;&nbsp;You had an artist who was poached?I wouldn’t say poached. The Pace Gallery took on Robert Ryman, and I never really had another show since then. They seemed to be able to control that. And David Zwirner now represents Fred Sandback. I have an excellent relationship with the estate, so they’re not going to completely take it away from me. But I have less control over it than Zwirner does.&nbsp;&nbsp;In the case of Ryman, that was someone you had invested in, so to speak.Yes, yes. We’d been showing him since the late ’70s.&nbsp;This did not make you happy?Well, why would I like being run over? (Laughs.) I’m not a masochist.&nbsp;Getting back to the topic of women in your history as a gallerist: The Young Hoffman Gallery, which you started with Donald Young in the mid-’70s, was one of the first to show a lot of women artists, including Cindy Sherman, Barbara Kruger, Jenny Holzer, etc. Was there, and is there now, a preference on your part to show women artists?&nbsp;If so, it’s not conscious. We always picked work that we thought was challenging and interesting. I have to amuse myself, you know. I’m not here just to make other people happy. I have to take care of my ego as well. I have to come to work and feel good, and I like to back a good horse. You know, back in the late ’70s and early ’80s, the people doing the most exciting things were women. I’m a very political, socio-political animal, and I care about the world. The gallery is still split between artists who do formal work and people who are actively engaged in societal concerns. And the women were political. Barbara Kruger was political, for sure. Cindy Sherman, not so much. But they were doing interesting things. And then in the early ’90s, along came the African-American artists, who were doing work that intrigued me. I think it’s like no one having heard of [Jorge Luis] Borges or [Gabriel Garcia] Márquez. They just seemed to break upon the scene here, but they’d already had huge careers in South America. The same thing happens in the visual arts. You start seeing work that’s interesting to you, for a variety of reasons—including, always, the formal aspects. And that’s where you want the dialogue to be.&nbsp;&nbsp;But it wasn’t that you were making a special point of recruiting women artists, or African-American artists, for the sake of addressing some imbalance.Not at all.&nbsp;&nbsp;And that’s still true?Absolutely. In terms of African-American artists, we started Mickalene Thomas’s career. Now we have Deana Lawson, who has a show opening at the Art Institute on Sept. 5. We have Derrick Adams. Of the new artists we have taken on in the last couple of years, one is an African-American artist, Nathaniel Mary Quinn, who actually was raised in the Robert Taylor Homes in Chicago. You never heard of him. But you will.&nbsp;He sounds like a good story.Yes. He grew up poor. When he was 14 or 15, his mom died. Her name was Mary Quinn, so he took her first name as his middle name. He was very fortunate in that he had two teachers who took him under their wing and pushed him along at school, got him scholarships, things like that. He made it. Very smart, very verbal.<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/744/original/junebug.jpg" alt=""></figure>To what extent would you say your choices as a gallerist reflect your personal taste in art?One hundred percent.&nbsp;You wouldn’t take on an artist whose work you personally didn’t care for but thought might sell?Never.&nbsp;How would you describe the niche you’ve carved out as a dealer?Well, we’re a Midwest gallery. We largely sell in the greater Midwest, except for art fairs, where the world comes and you sell to anybody from anyplace. I don’t have a show of a New York artist and immediately sell it back to New York art collectors. Nathaniel’s show, for example, comes fresh from the studio, we open it without anything sold—although there are people in New York dying to buy some of the pieces—and Chicago goes first, and the Midwest. Then the rest of the world can go. That gives me an edge. I give the artist a bigger exposure than if he or she had shows only in New York.&nbsp;&nbsp;It seems like you used to do a lot of art fairs; now, not so much.I’ve cut back, yes. Now I’m just doing three, the Art Dealers Association show in New York, Art Basel Miami and EXPO CHICAGO. We went to Hong Kong for three years, we’ve done other fairs. But they’re very costly. And a lot of the work I sell at an art fair, I could sell anyplace. And you know, I don’t have a Picasso to pull out of the back room to cover the cost of a fair.&nbsp;&nbsp;How have the fairs changed the way you do business?What the fairs did was change the composition of your clientele. Now the collectors go to all the fairs and they know all the dealers. So they’re not going to come to you as a dealer and say, “Oh, I want to buy a this or a that, could you get me one?” They’re just going to go to a fair and buy one from whoever’s selling it. So everyone has the same clients now, mostly. Everyone can buy from everybody now.&nbsp;And that’s less satisfactory to you than the old way?Yeah, because there’s less conversation. [Chicago collectors] Jack and Sandy Guthman and I were together a while back, and we were reminiscing about what Saturdays used to be like in the good old days, the ’80s and ’90s. On Saturdays, collectors would come and sit around my office and we’d talk about art. Now everyone’s too busy. And the other thing that really is the bane of my existence is that everybody—well, not everybody, but so many people have art advisors. Of course, there are some really good ones. But you don’t have to go to school to hang out your shingle as an art advisor. Your information, your history, your ability to discern art is unknown. And they take people around and say, “Look at this, this is interesting.” I understand it to some degree, because people are busy, they’re working too hard. So you have someone now who makes money from you when you buy something through them, plus sometimes they get a stipend from the gallery. It’s interesting.&nbsp;People say the art world runs on reputation, and that goes for both artists and dealers.&nbsp;That’s a stupid generalization. The art world runs on a lot of stuff.&nbsp;But you do have a reputation.I know, I’m reading about it now. (Laughs.) I’m well-known for doing just what I said. And I’m known for doing it as long as I’ve done it. Starting in ’76, that’s a long way from there to here.&nbsp;I wonder where that places you on the list of longest-serving gallerists in Chicago? Near the top, I’m thinking.Well, there’s the Richard Gray Gallery. They were there since before me. Stanley Johnson. (Thinks.) Hmm. Wow. That makes me maybe the oldest living dealer really active in Chicago.&nbsp;&nbsp;There’s Ann Nathan—Oh, Ann, of course. She’s been around longer than I have. Maybe Carl Hammer?&nbsp;Well, what I’m getting around to, a little fearfully, is the fact that you’re at a point in your career when many people are considering retirement. Do you have thoughts along those lines?I don’t know. I just signed a new lease, but only for three years. I’ll think about it then. (Smiles.) The thing is, my job comes along with a really nice life. Not necessarily a lot of money, but a really nice life. I do for a living what I would do in my spare time. I have interesting conversations in this job. I don’t have to be the best friend of every collector who buys things from me, but I’m connected to a world that I’m really interested in, which is theoretical and intellectual. And we drink a lot and have a lot of fun. (Laughs.) So what am I going to do, stay home?&nbsp;Kevin Nance is a Chicago-based freelance writer and photographer&nbsp; Twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/kevinnance1">@KevinNance1</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;</body></html>

CGN interviews Rhona Hoffman on 40 years in business 

Rhona Hoffman: 40 Years of Having Fun

By KEVIN NANCE

Art collector Helen Zell is one of those people who thinks best on her feet. Given the option of a sit-down chat or being interviewed while touring the modernist Streeterville condo she shares with her husband, businessman Sam Zell, she immediately chooses the latter. It&rsquo;s quite a trek, encompassing 18,000 square feet of space that contains some 800 objects, including major works by Ren&eacute; Magritte, Joan Mir&oacute;, Frida Kahlo, Max Ernst, Alexander Calder, Salvador Dal&iacute;, Remedios Varo, Giorgio de Chirico, Louise Bourgeois and a host of younger and emerging artists, along with ethnographic material and the occasional foray into Pop art.

Associated for two decades with the Museum of Contemporary Art, where she has held several positions including board chair, Zell is sleek and chic&mdash;her draping silver hair set off against an elegant all-black outfit&mdash;but entirely down-to-earth, her husky alto regularly erupting into laughter. Here&rsquo;s an edited transcript of our visit. &nbsp;

<img alt="" data-caption="Zell in the company of sculptures by Louise Bourgeois" data-rich-file-id="739" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/739/original/helen-zell-second-shoot-6.jpg" />

CGN: How did you get started with collecting?

HZ: The collection was originally conceived as a Surrealist collection. It was 18 years ago&mdash;Sam and I weren&rsquo;t even married yet&mdash;and we talked about collecting art. Over dinner one night, he looked at me and said, &ldquo;Do you like art?&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;Yeah, I like art. Like it a lot.&rdquo; Then, &ldquo;Well, what do you like?&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;Well, I like a lot of things. I&rsquo;ve been a museum-goer my whole life.&rdquo; He said, &ldquo;Well, I like Surrealism!&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;You do?&rdquo;&nbsp;

&nbsp;

You didn&rsquo;t know that at the time?

I didn&rsquo;t have a clue. I didn&rsquo;t know he was interested in art, let alone Surrealism.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

Am I correct in thinking that you, rather than your husband, take the lead in the collecting process?

That&rsquo;s right. When we first decided to do this, Sam looked at me and said, &ldquo;OK. You do all the work and I&rsquo;ll write the checks. It&rsquo;s really going to be fun.&rdquo; And that was it.

&nbsp;

So, you&rsquo;ve always been in the driver&rsquo;s seat.

Yeah. But he loves it. And takes great pride in walking around and learning about the collection. It&rsquo;s a really big part of what he likes to show people.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

And did you have a background in art when you started the collection?

Not really. I was always a museum-goer, but I never took an art history course. I was always a literature person, and I played the piano.&nbsp;

I was afraid to go to galleries. Terrified! Because they were so snooty. I lived in New York when I was young, and was horrified by walking into these places that were so quiet. Nobody talked to you - kind of looked down their noses at you. I was really uncomfortable and didn&rsquo;t feel like I belonged there.

&nbsp;

So the two Magrittes on the wall there are foundations of the collection?

Right. Also Dal&iacute;, Max Ernst, Yves Tanguy. Our criteria generally was the quality of the work&mdash;how it affected us. Did it intrigue us? Did it make our hearts beat a little faster?

&nbsp;

That&rsquo;s a good yardstick.

And pretty consistently, that&rsquo;s been true, whether it&rsquo;s Surrealism or work that has nothing to do with Surrealism. You have Magritte and you have these Mayan ceramic figures that are 2,000 years old, and you think, &ldquo;What do they have to do with one another?&rdquo; Well, maybe nothing.

&nbsp;

Maybe the connection is those African masks that inspired Picasso.

To me, it&rsquo;s about the way the artists express themselves. (Pointing to a piece.) That&rsquo;s by Gertrude Abercrombie, an American Surrealist from Chicago whom I had never heard of until Julie Rodrigues Widholm at the MCA did a collection show and revealed to me for the first time that there were a couple of Abercrombies in our permanent collection. She juxtaposed some of those pieces against more contemporary work and showed how they influenced one another. I loved the work and found out that we had a dealer in Chicago with access to it, so I went to Corbett vs. Dempsey and they found me an Abercrombie! That&rsquo;s the part I really love&mdash;the story, the hunt. Making connections, finding out I really love something that fits in with the other work that we already have, then going to find it. That&rsquo;s always fun.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

Well, &ldquo;eclectic&rdquo; is the word of the day.

It&rsquo;s actually not. If you look at a lot of collections today that are put together for hedge-fund guys and people who are into buying for the sake of having trophies on their wall, buying and selling. . . that&rsquo;s very different from what we&rsquo;ve done. We&rsquo;ve done what the collectors did once upon a time. They collected what they loved, and they took little side trips, had little adventures. I like to think I&rsquo;m an old-fashioned collector.

&nbsp;

It&rsquo;s not about buying and selling.&nbsp;

We never sell. We buy it and expect to eventually give it away.

&nbsp;

*

<img alt="" data-caption="A collection of objects in a sandbox—including maquettes, driftwood, seashells and other objects—from the studio of Lee Bontecou, recently acquired by Helen Zell in a special purchase via New York dealer Ann Freedman." data-rich-file-id="738" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/738/original/helen-zell-4.jpg" />

Next, we encounter a group of neo-primitive sculptures by Louise Bourgeois.

One of my favorite artists is Louise Bourgeois, who died a few years ago. There were originally about 50 of these sculptures, called &ldquo;Les Personnages,&rdquo; first exhibited together at MOMA in the &rsquo;50s. The group has been reassembled a few times, including once at the Guggenheim in New York. When you think of her work juxtaposed with Tanguy&rsquo;s, I think she has a Surrealist DNA. I just find them very compatible.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

They seem to have a relation to your ethnographic art.

Yes. Absolutely. They&rsquo;re like totems. That&rsquo;s the kind of thing that makes it all make sense for me.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

One of the sculptures has a mirror for a face.

My grandkids love that. It&rsquo;s like you become part of the piece.

&nbsp;

There might also be a reference to women carrying baskets on their heads.

Or it might be some strange figure with a whirlibird on his head. (Laughs.) Later in her life, she did some incredibly huge monumental spiders. One of them was in the Turbine Room at the Tate. Then she did some that were much smaller, like this one (points to a spider sculpture on a table). There are about five of these, and in this case she combined it with one of the little cloth figures she was making at the end of her life. I love this piece. You can say it&rsquo;s strange or tortured, but I like to think of it as a more powerful version of her&mdash;sort of stalking her prey.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

*

&nbsp;

In the hallway, Zell pauses in front of two paintings hung side by side, both featuring couples&mdash;the first very happy together, the second not so much.

These are two of the pictures that started the collection. We&rsquo;re at an art fair early on, and Sam zeroes in on this piece (of the happy couple). He says, &ldquo;Who&rsquo;s this artist?&rdquo; It was Dubuffet&mdash;early Dubuffet, from the &rsquo;40s, didn&rsquo;t look like his later work at all. And Sam said, &ldquo;I really like that piece.&rdquo;&nbsp;

&nbsp;

One of the faces looks like an Ed Paschke face.

Definitely, although Paschke wasn&rsquo;t working yet. Anyway, the couple looks very happy together. I think it&rsquo;s a classic example of, you know, you see something that resonates, because it means something for you.

&nbsp;

You were newlyweds.

We weren&rsquo;t even married yet. We were very happy and very romantic. It&rsquo;s also very colorful, and we both love color.

&nbsp;

(Pointing to the other painting): This is later in the relationship&mdash;darker, more serious

(Laughs): We still weren&rsquo;t married yet. Although I have to say, we&rsquo;re not dark, not very serious. Sam&rsquo;s one of the most upbeat people you&rsquo;ll ever meet. I&rsquo;ve learned a lot about optimism from him. Anyhow, the next year, there was another painting with another couple. This is Heinrich Campendonk, a German Expressionist.

&nbsp;

The piece has a Rousseau-like feel.

I see that. I think it also has some interesting references to sex.&nbsp;

As Sam will tell you, that&rsquo;s a big thing for him. Lots of naked ladies. Tits and ass! (Laughs.)

&nbsp;

*

&nbsp;

We turn the corner, where there&rsquo;s a large Roy Lichtenstein painting.

That was in the Lichtenstein retrospect at the Art Institute a few years ago, wasn&rsquo;t it? &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;

That&rsquo;s right. It was one of the few pieces in the show that wasn&rsquo;t owned by someone who wouldn&rsquo;t sell it.&nbsp; It was offered for sale by [New York art dealer] Larry Gagosian. (Cont. on next page...)

So when Sam and I fell in love with it, we were keenly aware that we could probably buy it.

&nbsp;

You bought it after having seen it at the Art Institute?

Right. I immediately contacted Larry&mdash;I knew him very slightly&mdash;and we started the dance, the negotiation, which lasted about three months.

&nbsp;

That&rsquo;s a long dance.

He&rsquo;s tough, but so am I. (Laughs.)

&nbsp;

I&rsquo;m sure you drive a very hard bargain.

It&rsquo;s just that I&rsquo;m tenacious. Sam would never&mdash;he would say, &ldquo;How much does the painting cost?&rdquo; The guy would tell him, and he&rsquo;d say OK and write a check. I cannot do that, because I&rsquo;m too familiar with the way the art world works.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

There&rsquo;s big markup.

They mark up their paintings with the idea that they&rsquo;re going to deal with you, negotiate. That&rsquo;s all part of the process.

&nbsp;

And you did get Gagosian to come down on the price?

Yeah. He finally broke down and sold it to me two days&mdash;or maybe a day and a half&mdash;before a big auction where the values of Lichtenstein went up 40 to 50 percent.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

So it wasn&rsquo;t a good move to sell when he did.

No. He should have waited. And I would have had to be satisfied with a worse price for me because of what happened at that auction. That&rsquo;s where the art market really influences what you&rsquo;re doing as a collector. I hate that part of it, but you must be aware of it.

&nbsp;

*

&nbsp;

We move to another large space down the hall, formerly a separate apartment which now houses the Zells&rsquo; photography collection and works by younger and emerging artists, many with a Surrealist bent.

A lot of the work in here is collected in tandem with institutions, especially the MCA and the Art Institute. If they&rsquo;re doing a show and want to collect the work&mdash;like this piece by Marlo Pascual&mdash;and I like the work, I buy it and promise it to the institution. It&rsquo;s a way of supporting the local museums and keeping work moving in and out of the space. It gives me the opportunity to be flexible without having to store things. I like to keep moving on.

&nbsp;

Do you think of this as a separate collection, or as part of a single collection?

It&rsquo;s one collection with two pretty clearly defined parts, but a lot of the young artists in here are influenced by Surrealism, so it&rsquo;s the perfect time to start mixing them together.

&nbsp;

This is an interesting piece (referring to a large panel covered with peacock feathers).

That&rsquo;s a Carol Bove, another artist I discovered through my association with the MCA. They did a show called The Language of Less, and she was one of the artists included. So I bought this from the show, and it will eventually go back to the MCA.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

We come to a collection of small pieces, including maquettes, driftwood, seashells and other objects, in what appears to be a sandbox.

This looks like Lee Bontecou.

It is! And it&rsquo;s actually one of my favorite stories. She did a show four or five years ago for Ann Freedman in New York, and I loved it, and was very interested in these three things called &ldquo;Sandpits,&rdquo; which were included in the exhibition to show how Lee works in her studio. They were not really considered works of art; they were just to show how she puts things together, experiments with shapes and forms. Well, I fell in love with this. I didn&rsquo;t want to buy one of the pieces of art&mdash;I have a lot of her art&mdash;but I really wanted to have this. I&rsquo;ve always been fascinated with her, I&rsquo;ve met her, spent some time with her. So I asked if I could buy this, and Ann said, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think she wants to sell this.&rdquo;

&nbsp;

It&rsquo;s work product, essentially.

Exactly. It&rsquo;s a sandbox you play in to decide what you&rsquo;re going to make next. I said, &ldquo;Oh, Ann, just tell her I&rsquo;ll give it to the MCA! Beg her!&rdquo; (Laughs.) Months went by, and then Ann called me one day and said, &ldquo;She finally agreed to do it.&rdquo; So finally it arrives in a box&mdash;all the sand, in bags, and all the little objects, beautifully wrapped in tissue paper. I had Ann photograph the whole assemblage when it was in New York, so I made a grid and proceeded to put it all together. And it worked. Then Ann called me again and said that Lee had said, &ldquo;You know, she doesn&rsquo;t have to do it like I did it. She can do it the way she wants to do it.&rdquo; And I said, &ldquo;I thought I&rsquo;d start off the way Lee did it.&rdquo; (Laughs uproariously.)

&nbsp;

Kevin Nance is a Chicago-based freelance writer and photographer&nbsp; Twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/kevinnance1">@KevinNance1</a>

&nbsp;

&nbsp;

Art collector Helen Zell is interviewed in CGN

Helen Zell’s Old Fashioned Approach to Collecting Contemporary Art

Zo&euml; Ryan is the John H. Bryan Curator of Architecture and Design and Chair of the Department of Architecture and Design at the Art Institute of Chicago. In 2014 she curated the second Istanbul Design Biennial. She also teaches art history at SAIC and University of Illinois Chicago. She has written several books, including Bertrand Goldberg: Architecture of Invention, published in 2011.&nbsp;

<img alt="" data-caption="Zoë Ryan at the Art Institute of Chicago" data-rich-file-id="752" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/752/original/zoe-cc-88-ryan-photo-by-kyle-lamere-march2014.jpg" />

CGN: You came to the Art Institute of Chicago in 2006 and regularly travel extensively for your job. Please decribe your fall schedule.

&nbsp;

ZR: What I love most about my job is that no two months are the same. The fall is always particularly busy, with new exhibition openings, and this fall is exciting as we open our major mid-career survey of work by architect David Adjaye. We installed the exhibition here at the museum for most of August, and then I was off to Istanbul for a quick trip, since I am on the advisory board of the Istanbul Design Biennial, which I curated in 2014; I try to attend board meetings, as the biennial is an institution that I am particularly fond of. I have also been invited to give a lecture in Warsaw in September, which I am looking forward to, as I have never been. Travel is always a pleasure, but I like to keep a balance between my time in Chicago and my time away.

&nbsp;

What are highlights of the Adjaye exhibition opening in September, for design&nbsp;aficionados as well as the layperson?

&nbsp;

This is a really important moment in David&rsquo;s career. He now has more than 50 built projects and many more in development or under construction all over the world. Next year, the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture on the Washington Mall, designed by David opens to the public. This is a project of immense national and international significance and has become the lynchpin of our exhibition at the Art Institute. The exhibition provides a moment to reflect on David&rsquo;s career and understand the past 15-years worth of work within the context of his projects in development, such as larger scale public buildings and urban master plans across Europe, Africa, and the Middle East.&nbsp;

In addition to models, drawings, sketches, and photographs, the exhibition includes a specially commissioned series of short films featuring David&rsquo;s buildings and commentary from an international coterie of art world luminaries such as Thelma Golden, Lorna Simpson, Chris Ofili, and Taiye Selasi. These help bring David&rsquo;s projects alive. In addition, visitors will be able to experience many of his projects at a one-to-one scale through full-scale mock-ups of fa&ccedil;ades of his buildings, including the National Museum of African American History and Culture in DC and Sugar Hill in Harlem. We are also installing a wooden pavilion in the galleries that visitors can walk through, giving them a first-hand experience of one of David&rsquo;s projects and enabling them to experience for themselves David&rsquo;s interest in material, spatial and compositional explorations.

<img alt="" data-caption="Francis A. Gregory Neighborhood Library, Washington DC, 2012. ©Jeff Sauers, courtesy of Adjaye Associates." data-rich-file-id="753" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/753/original/adjaye.jpg" />

Adjaye is known for designing architectural projects that in part address social issues.&nbsp; This is also a theme of the upcoming inaugural Chicago Architectural Biennial.&nbsp; What do you think design can offer society?&nbsp;

&nbsp;

The fields of architecture and design are inextricably linked to every aspect of our daily lives. From our buildings, streets, education, food, and health care to our communications, political, and economic systems, the types of work that architects and designers are tackling has grown exponentially. Architects and designers play an important role in identifying points of urgency and posing questions, as well as formulating and materializing solutions. They have an incredible capacity to take urgent challenges and create outcomes that raise the quality of life and help make the world a more sustainable place, all while delighting and amazing us.

&nbsp;

How do you see Chicago as a base for all that you do?&nbsp; What does Chicago have to offer the rest of the design world?&nbsp;

&nbsp;

Wandering the streets of Chicago is a lesson in modern and contemporary architecture. This is an inspiring city to live and work in, and the city is a frame for my work. Chicagoans are very proud of the rich cultural and artistic traditions that have been born and cultivated here and the many talented individuals who have made their mark here, from architects such as Louis Sullivan to Frank Lloyd Wright and Mies van der Rohe, to contemporary practitioners such as Jeanne Gang and John Ronan. It&rsquo;s incredible to live in a city where everyone has a point of view about the built environment.

&nbsp;

In design, there continues to be a rich tradition of graphic, furniture, and product designers based here following in the footsteps of modern designers, such as Charles Harrison and John Massey, Marcia Lausen at SudioLab, James Goggin, Helen Maria Nugent and Ronald Kirkpatrick of Haelo Design, Scott Wilson of MNML, and emerging practitioners such as Parsons &amp; Charlesworth and Plural. It&rsquo;s a rich, creative environment in which to live and work.

&nbsp;

Many people think of design, and objects first come to mind. How can we see design as conceptual rather than physical?

&nbsp;

The wonderful thing about working in the fields of architecture and design is that we all can have an opinion about these fields of practice, based on our own experiences of living and working in buildings and cities and using design daily, whether it is our smart phones, tea kettles, or the street signs that help us get to where we are going.&nbsp;

Designers are master communicators - able to frame and explore intellectual, cultural, and social questions through their work. A burgeoning area of study is speculative design, in which the processes of design ask questions about everyday life as a means to find solutions to challenges as varied as the impact of new technologies on our health and wellbeing or our increasingly aging populations.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

You&rsquo;ve been building AIC&rsquo;s first contemporary design collection - what are one or two of your favorite acquisitions to date?&nbsp;

&nbsp;

We are currently preparing for a new installation of work from our 20th and 21st century architecture and design collections. This will be the first time that the museum has dedicated galleries for these periods, and in preparation, we have been acquiring new work. Recently we acquired a pre-fabricated kitchen and bathroom unit by French architect and designer Charlotte Perriand. They are fantastic, 1970s units, inspired by Pop Art in their vibrant colors and shapes. They help us expand on the history of pre-fabrication that has played such an important role in the history of America and elsewhere in the 20th century. Visitors to our new galleries will get to experience a design element meant for architectural interiors at a one-to-one scale and fully appreciate what they might have been like when they were originally installed in the ski chalet for which they were designed in France.

Zoë Ryan is the John H. Bryan Curator of Architecture and Design and Chair of the Department of Architecture and Design at the Art Institute of Chicago. In 2014 she curated the second Istanbul Design Biennial. She also teaches art history at SAIC and University of Illinois Chicago.

Q&A with Design Curator Zoë Ryan

BY LAURA M. METTAMI met Cheryl years ago when I volunteered to assist in The School of the Art Institute’s (SAIC) Continuing Studies program and was placed in a fashion class she was teaching. Since then, I’ve kept up with Cheryl’s ambitious projects and exhibitions. Her energy is contagious, her passion is palpable, and she has a unique way of connecting to youth and the community. The artist’s recent work has questioned issues of power, inequality, race, gender, and segregation. Cheryl Pope has been busy. And she likes it that way.&nbsp;Pope lives and works in Chicago, and is represented by Monique Meloche Gallery (Chicago), and Galleria Bianconi (Milan, Italy). She earned her Masters from SAIC in Design: Fashion, Body, and Garment in 2010 and currently teaches in SAIC’s Fashion and Contemporary Practice Departments.Top image: Cheryl Pope, Strength to Love (for Chicago), 2013, rhinestones and adhesive on glass in velvet, wood and glass case. Photo credit: James Prinz Photography. Courtesy of the artist and Monique Meloche Gallery.&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="https://www.cherylpope.net">www.cherylpope.net</a><figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/757/original/c-pope-2.jpg" alt=""></figure>LM: When did you become interested in&nbsp;art?&nbsp;CP: I lived across the street from a forest preserve and was always finding and making things, but it wasn’t until my senior year in high school, in my first art class with Mr. Englehart, that art became my path. He was the first to respect my intention to make.&nbsp;He believed in me and respected me, and this was transforming when I needed it most. I will always be grateful to him.&nbsp;<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/769/original/cheryl-pope-one-of-many-one-2-lr.jpg" alt=""></figure>You’ve had quite a busy year, with multiple exhibitions in Chicago (Just Yell: From Within at The Poetry Foundation; Just Yell: Leveling the Playing Field - DCASE Artist in Residence at the Chicago Cultural Center), as well as several others in Miami, Boulder, Germany, Italy, and Dubai.&nbsp;Any highlights from your spring and summer shows that stood out to you?In each exhibition and event, I have been repeatedly reminded of the value of quality over quantity. I think so often we evaluate based on numbers or scale. For me I can put all my time and all my heart into a project and reach only one person, but I can really impact them - and this is all that&nbsp;matters to me. This gives me all the courage, energy and purpose to continue.<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/770/original/cheryl-pope-poetry-foundation2.jpg" alt=""></figure>Do you enjoy having a full plate?&nbsp;Yes! Life only happens once. I live each day with this attitude. I have so much respect for my dreams and I want to do all I can to make both mine and others’ come true.&nbsp;What’s next this fall and into 2016?I’m curating a one-night fashion event on September 18, 5-10pm, for the Art Loop Alliance (closing Wabash between Monroe and Madison); exhibiting in ARTBO in Bogota, Colombia; performing and installing a public work in Osnabrück, Germany; and participating in the Elmhurst Art Museum’s Biennial in December.&nbsp;Your recent Just Yell exhibitions have shined a light on the issue of gun violence and its impact on society - city youth in particular. Under the guise of cheerleading, you’ve made discussions about this urban issue accessible while humanizing those involved. I applaud your continued involvement with this topic. Can you&nbsp;elaborate on your connection with the subject and what led you to pursue this series?Engaging with youth in communities throughout Chicago, it became more and more evident to me the many ways in which youth are affected by gun violence and I felt called to respond to it. I decided to use Cheerleading, formerly called Yelling, as a framework to contain their voices and reactions to these issues.&nbsp;Cheerleading suggests sides, it suggests winners and&nbsp;losers, but more importantly it suggests a team, a community and a shared goal and belief.&nbsp;The idea of yelling is complicated: you can yell for help, for fear, for hope, but you are yelling to be heard. And these voices need to be&nbsp;seen and heard.<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/767/original/cheryl-pope-23-yell-yell.jpg" alt=""></figure>How has your perception of gun violence, and perhaps physical violence, changed from when you first started working in this series?I have become more aware and educated on the many systems, layers, and politics involved that complicate, enable, and resist positive change. I think it’s easy to point a finger, or to say, “get rid of guns” to try to solve a problem, but these issues are deeply rooted in systems of power and privilege.&nbsp;Instead we need to accept and confront the fact that segregation, unequal education and racism are the most harmful acts of violence, and it is here that the change needs to happen. &nbsp;<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/768/original/cheryl-pope-too-young-to-die-2-lr.jpg" alt=""></figure>You have worked with youth and young artists and poets on a number of different projects over the years. What do you consider a highlight of working with younger collaborators?This spring I was invited to be on a panel at Young Chicago Authors. After the discussion a young woman came up to ask me a question. We looked at each other and both got wide eyed the same moment. It was Del Marie Nelson, my mentee from 10 years ago at the James Jordan Boys &amp; Girls Club. We lost track of one another and have once again connected. Since that moment she has been at the Cultural Center every day and involved in all the summer Just Yell / Poetry as Self Defense projects.This was such a significant moment, as it revealed the true sense of community, of time passing and being there for different phases of a life in the community. As the saying goes, “it takes a village to raise a child,” and we are all responsible for our part. It is a blessing to have the opportunity to spend time with so many young, extremely talented artists.<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/771/original/cheryl-pope-remember-to-remember.jpg" alt=""></figure>You studied fashion at SAIC, among many other pursuits, and worked as a studio manager for Nick Cave. Are you in the midst of any fashion projects?&nbsp;I’m currently working on a collection of kimonos as well as a fragrance line; both relate conceptually to my studio practice. I am also designing and constructing the garments I wear in my performances, which are largely in conversation with fashion as a language and the history of fashion.&nbsp;What do you enjoy doing in your down time, outside of art-related activities?&nbsp;I spend my time in the gym training in boxing and Muay Thai. I love to be physical, sparring, learning new drills, and improving form. There's always more to learn;&nbsp;always new challenges.<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/772/original/cheryl-pope-this-or-that.jpg" alt=""></figure>&nbsp;Forgetting time and budget limitations, what is a dream project of yours?My dream is to have an art school. It will have a foundation that starts with a focus on the physical body in terms of health and self-care, and will include holistic spiritual therapy while maintaining a rigorous academic and studio practice that generates top contemporary work. We will have a team that travels to scout and recruit youth so that its accessibility is not dependent on privilege, but rather, on heart, intention, and talent.&nbsp;One-liner Chicago favorites…Art space: Promontory Point Park, Monique Meloche Gallery, The Poetry Foundation, Intuit, Randolph Street Flea MarketRestaurant/bar: Avec, Chicken Shop at Soho House, Owen + Alchemy, Grace (which I haven’t been to yet but one day will)Recommendations for tourists: Architecture Foundation River Tour, University of Chicago Campus, Open Mic at Young Chicago Authors on Tuesday nights.&nbsp;Can you&nbsp;name a few artists who have inspired you?Nick Cave (visual art); Andrei Tarkovsky (film); Steve Reich (music); Pina Bausch (dance); Jack Kerouac (poet).&nbsp;<a href="https://www.cherylpope.net">www.cherylpope.net</a>

Cheryl Pope's artwork has questioned issues of power, inequality, race, gender, and segregation. She lives and works in Chicago and is represented by Monique Meloche Gallery (Chicago), and Galleria Bianconi (Milan, Italy). She earned her Masters from SAIC in Design: Fashion, Body, and Garment in 2010 and currently teaches in SAIC’s Fashion and Contemporary Practice Departments.

Cheryl Pope is Making Change Happen

BY KEVIN NANCE

As young collectors, Ellen and Richard Sandor started out slowly. &ldquo;We were kids, and we both have a collector gene in us,&rdquo; Richard recalls in a recent interview at their Gold Coast apartment. &ldquo;We bought lithographs for $10 or $15.&rdquo; His wife shrugs. &ldquo;To be honest, it wasn&rsquo;t anything more than a young couple who wanted something on the wall,&rdquo; she says. &ldquo;The obsession did not occur until 1978, when we bought this apartment.&rdquo;

Obsession? A strong word, that.

&ldquo;Just look around,&rdquo; Ellen Sandor says. And you see what she means.

<img alt="" data-caption="Art seems to continue infinitely on up the winding staircase. Photo by Kevin Nance. " data-rich-file-id="556" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/556/original/sandor-staircase-copy.jpg" />

The Sandors&rsquo; Astor Street home&mdash;a 6,700-square-foot gallery-like space that features marble pillars from the old Palmer Potter mansion&mdash;is bulging with art, including about 1,600 works in photography, sculpture and new media. Photographs take pride of place, hung closely together, salon-style, in vertical arrays that almost reach the first floor&rsquo;s 18-foot-high ceiling.&nbsp;

There are images that represent the different eras of photography, from its beginnings in the mid-19th century to the golden age of photojournalism (including classic prints by Walker Evans, Margaret Bourke-White, Henri Cartier-Bresson, Dorothea Lange and others) to 1970s celebrity portraiture (much of it by Richard Avedon) to postmodernism (Richard Prince, Cindy Sherman) to contemporary work by international artists such as Ai Weiwei.

At first glance, the display can feel dizzyingly chaotic, with sculpture and new-media work juxtaposed with the photographs. But there&rsquo;s method&mdash;and, yes, a certain obsessiveness&mdash;to the seeming madness. The photographs are grouped by subject: French; American history (including a print of the flag being put into place on Iwo Jima, signed by the survivors); Czech modern; African-American; fashion; science; architecture; and on and on.&nbsp;

<img alt="" data-caption="Richard and Ellen Sandor standing among their Potter Palmer columns" data-rich-file-id="555" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/555/original/sandorcolumns.jpg" />

And the juxtapositions, which initially may have seemed arbitrary, begin to make sense. A photograph of Picasso by his lover, Dora Maar, is accompanied by another image in which subject and photographer switch roles; you can see Picasso&rsquo;s shadow creeping in from the side. There&rsquo;s not one but two prints of Rodin with his famous sculpture &ldquo;The Thinker&rdquo;&mdash;a silver print and a gravure, the latter more valuable&mdash;plus, of course, a Rodin sculpture. There are multiple images of the Italian sculptor Giacometti, including one by Cartier-Bresson in which the artist looks much like one of his famously elongated artworks. There are works by Toulouse-Lautrec as well as a rare photograph of the artist himself, diminutive and droll.&nbsp;

&ldquo;It all matches,&rdquo; Richard Sandor says with satisfaction. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all related.&rdquo;&nbsp;

&ldquo;The beautiful thing is that the photography is displayed with paintings and sculpture and new media,&rdquo; his wife adds. &ldquo;It took a while for Richard to get comfortable with it, but by the &rsquo;90s, we were juxtaposing everything. He loved clustering various things.&rdquo;

In the early years and even much later, the Sandors&rsquo; unusual way of displaying their collection struck some visitors as, well, odd. &ldquo;People looked at it and said, &lsquo;Jesus, you shouldn&rsquo;t be presenting it like this,&rsquo;&rdquo; Richard Sandor says. &ldquo;No one is going to do what we do,&rdquo; his wife adds with a shrug. &ldquo;Very few people, anyway. But the pairing of different media is what&rsquo;s happening now. Even the museums are starting to catch on.&rdquo;&nbsp;

*

This magnificent obsession, one of the most impressive and eclectic private collections in the world, is the result of the artistic passions of Ellen Sandor, an accomplished new-media artist in her own right, and the curatorial rigor of Richard Sandor, a leading economist at the University of Chicago.&nbsp;

&ldquo;When we started, I wanted Richard to share my passion for art,&rdquo; says Ellen Sandor, who received her degree in sculpture from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and has long been a pioneer in virtual photography and virtual-reality art. &ldquo;I knew that he had the historical research impulse inside him. I wanted him to be obsessed, and sure enough, it worked.&rdquo;&nbsp;

It worked in part because her husband, who knew a thing or two about undervalued investments, saw that photography was in the early stages of an upswing. It had struggled for years to gain acceptance in the art world&mdash;only a handfull of museums around the globe devoted space to the medium&mdash;but was beginning to appear in small auctions at Sotheby&rsquo;s and elsewhere.

&ldquo;Photography was not really considered fine art, and to us that seemed absurd,&rdquo; Richard Sandor says. &ldquo;But it was great value, so in 1980, I went to Sotheby&rsquo;s and publicly bought a bunch of things and paid top prices, like $2,000 to $5,000. I stood up and kept on paying, because I wanted to be a marked man. From that day on, every dealer said, &lsquo;There&rsquo;s a new collector, he&rsquo;s crazy, he&rsquo;s paying thousands for pieces as opposed to hundreds.&rsquo; So when every dealer would hit Chicago, I got first dibs. And during the 80s, we were probably the principal buyers of photographs at Sotheby&rsquo;s and Christie&rsquo;s.&rdquo;&nbsp;

In the end, his economist&rsquo;s insight served the Sandors well. &ldquo;Photography has grown about as fast as computers: 18 percent, compounded for 40 years,&rdquo; he says with a smile. &ldquo;We were fortunate.&rdquo;

It wasn&rsquo;t just the chance to invest in photography, or even his wife&rsquo;s urging him on, that appealed to Richard Sandor. It was the chance to amass a collection that, if not exactly encyclopedic, could encompass the entire history of the art form.

&ldquo;You can&rsquo;t see the span of art, but you can clearly see the span of photography, which began in the 1830s,&rdquo; he says. &ldquo;You get a grip on it. We didn&rsquo;t set out to do it this way, but the collection defined itself. There&rsquo;s a timeline to follow that leads you from one thing to the next. And if you&rsquo;re obsessive-compulsive, as we are, that&rsquo;s what you do.&rdquo;

Catherine Edelman, owner of her eponymous photography gallery in River North, calls the Sandor collection one of the most historically complete, and most uniquely displayed, that she knows of.&nbsp;

&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve never seen another collector install in that fashion, but the Sandors have come to understand that when placed appropriately, the images start to tell a story about the history of photography,&rdquo; Edelman says. &ldquo;They&rsquo;ll buy the same image in many different incarnations, including a vintage and then a modern print, because they like to see how the photographer sees that image over time. Or they&rsquo;ll have a famous image and then a print of the next frame on the photographer&rsquo;s roll of film&mdash;something that informs the well-known image. It&rsquo;s very informative and interesting, and they&rsquo;re very invested in doing this extra level of research. As a result, their collection is like no other I&rsquo;ve ever seen.&rdquo;&nbsp;

Over time, as the Sandors themselves realized just how unique their collection is, they&rsquo;ve begun to allow it to be seen by others. For years, Richard Sandor resisted, preferring to share the collection only with friends and small groups associated with the Art Institute. But as always, his wife wore him down. &ldquo;She said, &lsquo;We&rsquo;ve got stuff from 1840 to new media. We can&rsquo;t keep it all to ourselves. We have to open it up.&rsquo; And she was right. It&rsquo;s been a satisfying experience for us to share.&rdquo; Now the collection is frequently on display to groups organized by major museums around the world, including the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Museum of Modern Art, as well as during EXPO Chicago, the city&rsquo;s annual international contemporary art fair.

&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a world-renowned collection with several very expensive pieces, so it shows the maturity of the Sandors when they open up their home,&rdquo; Edelman says. &ldquo;When you&rsquo;re doing something at the level they&rsquo;re doing it, you realize you&rsquo;re the temporary owners of something much larger than yourselves and that you&rsquo;re obligated to share it. They&rsquo;re great citizens in that sense.&rdquo;

&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve met dozens of serious photo collectors, and Ellen and Richard are the most knowledgeable members of the species,&rdquo; says the Chicago photographer Art Shay, who has several images&mdash;including a print of his famous picture of Simone de Beauvoir standing nude in Nelson Algren&rsquo;s bathroom&mdash;in the Sandor collection. &ldquo;The walls of their vast Chicago apartment could serve as a history of the growth and burgeoning of the photographic art. The eye is caught by two historic Diane Arbuses, Cartier-Bressons galore, the most famous Dorothea Lange, etc. They are absolutely world class.&rdquo;

The Sandors, by the way, are not done collecting. Although nearly every inch of space in their apartment appears to be accounted for, &ldquo;They just keep adding,&rdquo; Edelman says. &ldquo;Which is just phenomenal.&rdquo;

And just a wee bit obsessive? Absolutely. The Sandors wouldn&rsquo;t have it any other way.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

Follow Kevin Nance on Twitter @KevinNance1

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&nbsp;

Ellen and Richard Sandor’s Art Obsession

BY GINNY VAN ALYEAThe heart of Michigan Avenue can be a chaotic, visually draining place, but nine floors up from the corner of Michigan and East Erie is an elegant space filled with hundreds of art history’s most important and valuable works. Testaments to human artistic achievement line the walls. In a coat and tie seated at a partner’s desk along the windows overlooking the Magnificent Mile is Stanley Johnson, the gentleman who has researched, collected and shared these works with the world, a vibrant intellectual who has led a life filled with language, learning, and art. From Northwestern University to travels throughout Mexico, Peru, Costa Rica, and Ecuador, followed by nearly a decade and a half in Europe, Mr. Johnson earned a reputation as a Renaissance Man. Mr. Johnson was formally recognized for his artistic contributions by France’s Minister of Culture as an Officer of Arts and Letters. He is the only United States art dealer who has been so decorated, and in the Midwest there’s only one other person who’s received the same honor, and that’s Douglas Druick, the current President of the Art Institute of Chicago. Johnson has placed art in more than 60 museums around the world, and he has published and mounted over 100 fine art exhibitions. In 2015 Mr. Johnson, with his wife Ursula, marks the 60th anniversary of the gallery his father started in 1955.&nbsp;<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/561/original/mr-26-mrs-johnson-4-copy.jpg" alt=""></figure>Stanley Johnson always loved being a student, but his journey to becoming a renowned art dealer was a circuitous one. From a young age he loved to travel – in some cases by bus, truck or traded horse, encountering friends, mentors, foreign ministers and even lethal anaconda snakes and earthquakes.&nbsp;After a year studying art and architecture in Mexico City and a degree from Northwestern, Johnson ultimately arrived in Geneva, Switzerland in the mid-1950s to continue his study of art history. Following two semesters of art and philosophy in Geneva, Johnson went to France where he volunteered for the US Army; after basic training stateside, he was recruited to be a spy for the CIA in Vienna at the end of the occupation (his official title was Assistant Liaison Officer in Vienna), largely because of his extensive travels and language aptitude, something the army valued when they requested he attend cocktail parties to eavesdrop on foreign generals. Johnson says he was a total failure as a spy, but he was a very capable interpreter for the U.S. Commanding General in Vienna at the time. It was a wild time in his life and in the world.&nbsp;Not content to be fluent in just French and Spanish, Johnson wished to improve his German, as well as his archeology and history studies, citing the language as a big block in his learning to date. He even promised a Northwestern German professor that in exchange for accepting a passing grade, he would never take another German course, as the professor said he was not capable of learning it.&nbsp;His decision then to move to the University of Innsbruck in Austria would lead him to his future wife, Ursula, a beautiful young German girl who was doing post-graduate work in art history. Johnson’s German improved considerably – he says he spoke with his mother-in-law only in German, though he and Ursula communicated in French, which he still considers their best means of expression.&nbsp;Together, Johnson and Ursula returned to the University of Vienna, where Johnson moved on to study ancient Greek. From Vienna, they went to Perugia, Italy to study Dante for nine months. And From Perugia Johnson went to Florence while Ursula spent time at home in Düsseldorf.&nbsp;It was in Florence that art history truly began to permeate Johnson’s existence. Every morning he went to the Uffizi Museum and spent the next six hours, every day for 3-4 months, looking at each painting.&nbsp; He recalls, “I looked at each stroke. I became extremely familiar with the paintings there, and I always listened to what people had to say when they looked at those paintings.”&nbsp;&nbsp;Eavesdropping in this case offered insights into global perspectives floating through the museum. Johnson observed some key lessons in looking at art: “The French had important things to say, but they all had the same things to say. The Germans had interesting and profound ideas, but they were all the same ideas. The Americans, on the other hand, could stand in front of the same paintings, and though they might not have intelligent or sophisticated ideas, they were often ridiculously silly, it was people from the new world who from time to time would offer a discovery about why something was truly beautiful. They looked at the art with an open mind.”&nbsp;Johnson cites a Texas man’s blunt observation that a Michelangelo resembled a poster as an ‘ah-ha’ moment. Johnson had been trying to determine why he never really liked the work, and in fact it was as the man said – it lacked a third dimension. Today, Johnson says, “I’m still fighting for a freshness of vision. One of the reasons [the gallery has] one of the greatest art collections in the world, you see, is because I’ve been able to see things in advance.”<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/559/original/rembrandt-self-portrait-at-a-window-2014-copy.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Rembrandt's Self Portrait at a Window</figcaption></figure>Johnson’s father, S.E. Johnson, started the gallery in 1955, at 224 South Michigan Ave. when he bought a gallery that was for sale in the Roosevelt University building. In 1963 when the 645 N. Michigan Ave. building was built, the gallery moved north and took over half of the second floor. (Note: About a year ago the gallery moved to the ninth floor to a more intimate space largely due to the proportion of internet business the gallery now does.) Ursula recalls that the fall evening on which the gallery was first opening at the new address was on a Friday in November 1963; it was the night JFK was assassinated. “We were actually in Paris, and even from there we were shivering. It was a very bad November, and it was all quite memorable.”In the gallery’s early days, the elder Mr. Johnson came to visit his son in Paris. Stanley and Ursula were living in Saint-Germain-des-Prés on the sixth floor of a 17th century walk-up, then the Hôtel de Verneuil,&nbsp;and as Johnson notes, there was cold, running water only down on&nbsp;the second floor. He says, “It was total misery, except we could look down towards the Louvre. When my father asked what would happen if there were a fire, I said I’d never thought about that. He said, ‘Well I have. Let’s go downstairs and have a cup of coffee.’&nbsp;He didn’t want to be there one more minute.”&nbsp;In the building’s defense, Ursula points out that it had been standing since the time of Louis XIV, most likely because the cement over old wood didn’t burn more than anything else would have. She says the building is still there today, though not the hotel.&nbsp;Despite their transatlantic separation, Johnson began to work for the gallery from Paris, taking advantage of his proximity to some of the great minds and talents of the 20th century. When Johnson’s father said that he would love to show Jean Cocteau’s art in Chicago, he recalls, “I went downstairs to the corner café to use the phone, and I looked up in the telephone book: ‘Cocteau, Jean.’ When he answered, I told him my father had a gallery in Chicago and he wanted to do a show of his ceramics and drawings. He said, ‘I’d love to do it. But unfortunately today, morning, noon and night, I’m busy. Come to my house for tea tomorrow.’” The Chicago exhibition was quite successful, and it was just the first of several significant art dealings started from his neighborhood café.&nbsp;Johnson traveled next to Rome with his parents. The trio arranged to meet Giorgio de Chirico while there and spent an afternoon speaking to him in French and Italian along with his wife.&nbsp;Johnson says, “They just loved the three of us; we got along tremendously. My father bought 24 de Chirico paintings for $12,000. At the end of that whole thing,&nbsp;de Chirico said, ‘We love the three of you and would like to have you to dinner at our country house tomorrow. You must promise not one word about business – strictly friendship, friendship, friendship.’” It would be an important lesson for the younger Johnson on how to do business.&nbsp;Following the successful visit, the 24 purchased paintings were sent back to Chicago for the gallery exhibition. Not one was sold.&nbsp;Johnson admits, “That was a disaster. $12,000 at that time was a lot of money. My father wrote a letter to de Chirico, which I have, that said the reason nothing sold was because all the paintings had bad subject matter, so he wanted to exchange all 24 for new ones. de Chirico responded that it was not because of bad subject matter, it was because he was a bad art dealer. He did exchange six paintings, and one by one they sold for $950-$1,150 until finally all 24 were sold. Today the same ones at auction go for $300,000-$400,000. &nbsp;From Paris Johnson, selling art was not yet Johnson's primary pursuit; the majority of the time he&nbsp;continued&nbsp;studying art history and philosophy alongside Ursula, learning from academic stars like André Chastel, one of the greatest art history professors of 20th century, at the Institute of Art and Archeology at the Sorbonne, and under Jean Wahl, also at the Sorbonne.&nbsp;Mr. and Mrs. Johnson returned from Paris for good after Stanley’s father died suddenly in 1967. When I ask him if he had a different vision for the gallery than his father, he says, “It was a commercial gallery. [My father] did some terrible things and sold some junky stuff, but gradually we got some better things. Bad things could pay the rent for awhile.”&nbsp;Johnson reflects that his opportunity to be a student was very different from his father’s. “When I was in Florence, he wrote me a letter saying, 'We are your parents and we are paying for you. What are you doing? What’s keeping you there?'&nbsp;I wrote back that I’m doing absolutely nothing and I intend to stay for two more months doing absolutely nothing (I was also there because of the GI Bill.) When I came back to Chicago, I told him I’d been at the Uffizi from 10am-4pm each day; his reaction was, ‘That’s wonderful. I’d love to be able to do that but I can’t get away from my business.’ Ultimately he appreciated what I was doing.”&nbsp;Johnson’s language, travel and art knowledge were building blocks for the time when he would run the gallery.When he and Ursula took the helm following the senior Mr. Johnson’s death, they brought their scholarly, worldly perspective to art research, collecting and selling. Notably, in 1991 the gallery mounted a Cubist exhibition at The Phillips Collection in Washington, D.C., the Minneapolis Institute of Arts, and the Dallas Museum of Art. In 1992 Johnson’s companion book, Cubism &amp; La Section d’Or: Reflections on the Development of the Cubist Epoch 1907-1922 was one of ten books nominated for the Alfred H. Barr Jr. Award for museum scholarship. Since 1991. He is currently close to submitting a revised version to publishers in London.Mr. Johnson’s gallery specializes in a range of art, but the focus has long been on Post-Impressionism, Cubism and Expressionism (though an exhibition of contemporary paintings by Milwaukee artist Bruce Dorow opens May 1.) Johnson says they are always acquiring works, “We have to take time to decide what we will acquire. We don’t acquire works because they’re saleable - we have no interest in that. We determine if they’re in an interesting category of works and if we would like to own those works. If so we can go to our best friends and say we bought this and think this is a wonderful thing. We think we’re pretty exceptional that way. That’s the way we’ve been running the gallery.”&nbsp;<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/560/original/picasso-head-of-a-faun-copy.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Pablo Picasso, Head of a Faun, 1962</figcaption></figure>He continues explaining why the gallery deals in say, Old Master prints vs. paintings, “Old Master paintings is a bad category for us because there aren’t any more great ones left. Our collection of drawings out of France, of Picassos, may be the greatest private collection of its sort in the United States. We reject the category of Old Master drawings when they go back to say, the 16th century or before, but when you get up to the end of the 17th century or into the 18th we still buy things in which we’re interested. Old Master prints are still fantastic and there’s still a possibility to buy things for relatively accessible amounts of money. We’re dealing more with European art than American art, and our competition is essentially European. As a result we have to outfox, out maneuver and out connoisseur European competitors, which is a fun challenge easily met, for the very reason I explained when I visited the Uffizi – the Europeans tend to have preconceived notions of what’s this and what’s that. They can’t conceive of some American knowing more about what they live with.”What else makes this market so appealing to Johnson? Camaraderie, knowledge and competition. Johnson excitedly explains, “The Old Master Print market consists of auctions in London - where it all started. You’ve got the round table with the green velvet top and the work is being offered - there are ten dealers seated and they are all European, except me. The winner is the one who got the best deals in buying those things, not he one who has the most money. It doesn’t have much to do with who has the most money but the one who has the best eye. The other thing is that for an individual to be brought into that world is a difficult thing. You also can’t just have anyone show up since it’s a rare thing. Much of it is about friendship, friendship, friendship.”Johnson attests that each work in his private collection has a story. He lists artists most of us encounter only in world famous museums: Toulouse-Lautrec, Bonnard, Jacques Villon and Matisse. So, where did they come from? Johnson is eager to tell the story of another friendship he forged in Paris, one with Daniel-Henry Kahnweiler, Picasso’s art dealer. As a result of his place within an intellectual group in Paris, which included Kahnweiler and others, Johnson eventually became one of the direct dealers of Picasso. In 1970 Kahnweiler, in his 90s at the time, had 120 drawings, watercolors and pastels of Picasso’s to unload, and there were nine dealers from around the world, including Johnson, who had first choice. Johnson clearly recalls, “I arrived at Kahnweiler’s Paris studio about an hour before this sale. I said to him, ‘It’s wonderful to be one of these nine, but I’m the ninth one as well as the youngest. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to take any drawing I want?’ He responded, ‘Monsieur Johnson, if it’s that important to you, go in there and take any drawing you want, but don’t tell the other dealers, and don’t leave it in the room – put it in my office so they don’t see it. You must promise me two things: the drawing you pick today, you will never sell. And every time you look at that drawing you tell yourself what a great guy Kahnweiler was.’”Towards the end of our conversation, Mr. Johnson stops to ask me if I’m having fun. He continues, “I’m always having fun, and I enjoy the competition.”&nbsp;Johnson’s career as a world traveler, a student of art history and an art dealer has been filled with stories and great relationships. His greatest partner of all has undoubtedly been his wife, his intellectual as well as business companion and the reason he finally mastered German. About Ursula he shares, “She is quiet, but she is very, very knowledgeable. We have formed the collection. It’s been a whole life together.”&nbsp;&nbsp;

An interview with Ursula and Stanley Johnson on the gallery's 60th anniversary 

R.S. Johnson: 60 Years of Art and Learning

BY LAURA M. METTAMJudy Ledgerwood’s bold use of color and pattern transforms the spaces in which her art exists. She establishes a dichotomy between precision and abstraction, order and chaos, the vividly decorative and the subtly conceptual. Ledgerwood has received numerous awards from prestigious arts organizations, including the National Endowment for the Arts and Artadia. Her work is held in international private collections as well as in many of the nation’s top art museums, such as the Art Institute of Chicago and the Metropolitan Museum of Art.Currently a Professor and the Director of Graduate Studies in the Department of Art Theory and Practice at Northwestern University, Ledgerwood lives and works in Chicago. She is represented by Chicago’s Rhona Hoffman Gallery, as well as by several other international galleries in New York, Los Angeles and Houston, Germany, Switzerland and Austria.Top image: Judy Ledgerwood, Chromatic Patterns for the Graham Foundation, 2014, Graham Foundation, Chicago, IL<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/613/original/judy-ledgerwood-sun-tide.jpg" alt=""></figure>LM: Do you remember when your interest in art first began?JL: My mother was in graduate school for education at Indiana State University. In her early childhood education class, she learned that kids would be more creative if they weren’t given coloring books but instead, made their own pictures. This early encouragement reached a crisis when I was seven and lost a coloring contest to a girl named Lori. I was disappointed that her Cinderella picture, neatly colored within the lines, was selected over mine, which I clearly thought was more artistic. I’ve been seeking attention for my art-making ever since.&nbsp;• You earned your BFA from The Art Academy of Cincinnati and your MFA from SAIC. Can you provide a brief background about where you grew up and then elaborate on your decision to study art through the graduate level? Any comments on your experience as an art student?I grew up in a tiny farming community in Indiana. I identified as an artist at an early age, so I understood that artists need to be a part of a larger community. I chose what I thought was the surest path to my success through education. I had studied the biographies of other artists whom I admired, and this was the path that they followed so I emulated them.I met my husband, Tony Tasset, in undergraduate school. He shared my ambition of becoming an artist and together we still make a strong team. We grew up together sharing successes and failures in a very difficult field. I’m his biggest fan and vice versa. It’s invaluable to have a person who believes in you and understands what you do.At SAIC, for the first time I met artists who were better than me.&nbsp;That’s the thing about moving from a small town to a larger one. The challenge to keep up was just the kick in the pants that I needed. That and a fear of truly becoming a starving artist pushed me to focus on what I needed to do to become a professional artist.<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/614/original/judy-ledgerwood-crossing-over.jpg" alt=""></figure>• Were you always interested in teaching? What path led you to your current role as Professor and Director of Graduate Studies in the Department of Art Theory and Practice at Northwestern University?I didn’t teach until I was out of grad school for almost a decade. I got lonely working in my studio and I found that socially, artists wanted to network more than discuss art. I wanted to discuss the big questions; I missed that about school. I started teaching one class at SAIC, then soon after I began full time at Northwestern. Our students rarely self-identify as artists, but most go on to contribute to society. I am in the perfect position to proselytize for art. Many high schools no longer offer courses in art, but I think it’s the best way to learn critical thinking. There are no right choices when making art, only ones that work. Learning how to determine a working method and the criteria for judgment is something that I’ve only recently gotten good at. The icing on the cake of my job is working with graduate students. Northwestern fully supports the MFA candidates, so we get the cream of the crop in our graduate program since it is so competitive for top candidates.&nbsp;• How do you think today’s art students and art schools differ from when you were in school? What has changed? Where are things headed?The big change has been in the softening of disciplinary boundaries. Young people no longer say, “I’m a painter.” They say, “I’m an artist,” or maybe even something like, “I make things.” Art school in the 21st century focuses to a lesser degree on the artist as an individual author, and more on community solutions to aesthetic, political or even practical problems - a reflection of how the art world really is now. Of course some fields like painting will not change much pedagogically. And hopefully education can do more than train worker bees for artists like Jeff Koons.<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/615/original/judy-ledgerwood-smart-museum-2.jpg" alt=""></figure>• Your work is vivid and energizing. Repetitive patterns are controlled but not exact. They are precise yet loose. When viewing the larger installations of repeat patterns, I think about the performative aspect of creating the work and how the physical act of painting is also repetitive and controlled. I find the thought of creating these wall paintings - such a time consuming, perhaps meditative process - as an almost comforting, contemplative change of pace from our culture’s digital age need for instant results. Can you comment on your work process for both large installations and smaller works on canvas?I think about creating experiences that must be seen first person - whether work on canvas or large-scale installations painted on the wall. Patterns suggest regular continuity, but life is not like that, even with many repetitive gestures that make up a day, like morning coffee or showering. Each moment is unique if you’re aware.I try to make paintings that not only breathe in the after-image created by visual color interactions that flicker visualy, but allow the performative act of painting to create a sense of time, especially through repetitive patterns. The drips suggest real time. I experience time as elastic. Moments spent on hold with the utility company are endless; moments spent with your young child pass in a heartbeat. I think my work functions well if the viewer’s experience brings about a greater self-awareness. This is not so different from the aims of all abstract painting.<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/616/original/judy-ledgerwood-smart-detail.jpg" alt=""></figure>• I love the transformative environments that your installations and immense wall paintings create. The installations have the power to alter familiar spaces as seen in your recent&nbsp;Chromatic Patterns for the Graham Foundation, and Chromatic Patterns for the Smart Museum, among many other pieces you’ve done in the past. Can you talk about your use of such vivid colors and repeat patterns, and how the scale and content of your work has evolved over the years? Are you experimenting with any new methods or materials?I have shifted from a palette based on a response to decorative color in architecture that commented on Modernisms’ failures, to work that creates cast color or uses color interaction to leak out from the surface of the painting into the space in front of the canvas, the space where the viewer is. Each era develops a new model for describing space, and space reflects the age that produces those responses. Think of the Cartesian model of space developed during the Renaissance as a model of rationalism as just one example. When I started my career in the artworld of the late 80s at the moment of the first art boom, the thing that seemed most urgent to address was the increasing power of images circulating as reproductions. There are paintings that look good reproduced that are generally not very satisfying to look at in person. For me, an art experience is between a viewer and a work of art, not between a viewer and an electronic device. It’s even more of an issue now, so I still stand by my desires to make painting a first person experience.I started using enormous scale early in my career. Then, as now, I want to create immersive environments - to make paintings that act like architecture. Once I felt that the scale was becoming habitual, I had to learn to make smaller paintings that were effective. I discovered that making smaller paintings scaled to the human body and installed to emphasize that relationship helped to make a direct connection to the viewer. I still make a lot of 15 x 15" paintings to try out a new idea on a manageable scale.I tried encaustic painting recently. I wanted to see what happened when color was not contained within the edges of a shape and edges between figure and ground were more erratic. I like the object quality of these kinds of paintings, but the encaustic is limited because it has to be done on panels, which get too heavy at large scale. So now I’m trying to achieve a similar goal with more familiar painting materials and techniques.<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/617/original/judy-ledgerwood-graham-detail.jpg" alt=""></figure>• Is there a way in which your work is displayed that you feel it has the potential to have the most impact on the viewer? For example, how might a smaller painting on canvas compare to a wall installation compared to something even larger like your 2014 collaboration with EXPO Chicago and The Beaches of Fort Myers &amp; Sanibel that resulted in a very public display of your artwork around Chicago during EXPO. Any comments on your experience with this particular public art project or others you may have been involved with in the past?For me the reason to make paintings is to address a viewer. I am always aware of the viewer when I make installation choices. Small paintings are hung to correspond to the viewers’ head, and the size of the shapes is at human scale, often in response to architecture, which is also built for bodies. The EXPO Chicago and The Beaches of Fort Myers &amp; Sanibel project was an opportunity to make a work outside a gallery or institution, which was new for me. Although one response to spending time at Rauschenberg’s studio in Captiva Island might have resulted in a typical Ledgerwood painting in a palette inspired by the light of Florida, I instead made work inspired by the light and space. For me the most profound experience of the place was the vast expanse of sand, sea and sky, and just as important this was conceived of as a project for everyone, not just your typical art going public.I wanted to work in a genre that most people understand, and landscape seemed appropriate to the site of presentation. I also liked the contrast between horizontal landscape in the billboards and their placement in an urban environment. These landscapes harkened back to the kind of paintings that I made twenty years ago at the start of my career. I know that I was very privileged to have the Florida experience to respond to. I wanted to create an image in the city for those that didn’t have that experience, to share a little of what that experience was like for me with everyone who encountered the billboards.&nbsp;• Do you have a favorite public art piece here in Chicago or elsewhere?I love the Picasso in Daley Square and the Dubuffet on the corner of the State of Illinois building.&nbsp;• Who are some of your favorite artists – older influences, or currently working artists?I grew up visiting the impressionist collection at the Art Institute of Chicago. I think that I learned color theory in those galleries. So I am indebted to Monet as much as I hate to admit it. Matisse, Blinky Palermo, Mary Heilmann, Harriet Korman, Pamela Fraser &amp; André Butzer are just a few favorite artists that come to mind.&nbsp;• Between your practice, your husband also being a prominent artist, and your teaching, do you ever reach a saturation point when it comes to art consumption? When you need to tune out, so to speak, what’s a favorite non-art interest of yours?We are busy just trying to keep up, so there is not enough down time, which I hope to address - as soon as I have time! Tony is very good at cooking, and I wish I could spend more time gardening. My garden it pretty Darwinian, but I grow mostly perennials, a few vegetables, and I have a tiny cutting garden every summer.<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/618/original/judy-ledgerwood-installation.jpg" alt=""></figure>• You mentioned that you’d be traveling to Lustenau soon for an exhibition. Can you describe this exhibition or project? Do you have any other plans coming up this summer or fall?&nbsp;My show in Lustenau is with the same gallerist I have worked with in Europe since 2005, Wolfgang and Christa Hausler (<a href="http://haeusler-contemporary.com/">Häusler Contemporary</a>). They have galleries in Munich, Zurich and this newer one in Lustenau, Austria. My upcoming project for Lustenau is called Lose Loos in response to the influence of Adolf Loos on contemporary taste even though his seminal contribution, Ornament and Crime was written in 1908. Loos counseled against excessive pattern and advocated the use of only specific colors. His attitude was heavily influential for Le Corbusier, who of course is much admired. Chromophobia is shared by many people who think that colors limited to a few basics; black, white, ultramarine blue, grey, yellow ochre reflect a higher level of sophistication, with brighter colors relegated for children and people from ‘other’ cultures. Of course my work goes against all of this. Since the show is in Austria, it seems likely that many viewers will be aware of Loos position and see my work in opposition to his ideas.Over the summer I plan to devote concentrated time to finishing a body of new work that I’ll show in Houston at <a href="http://www.barbaradavisgallery.com/">Barbara Davis Gallery</a>. I am also working toward a show in New York at <a href="http://www.tracywilliamsltd.com/">Tracy Williams Ltd</a>. for her new space on the lower East Side, and in January 2016 I have a sort of retrospective opening at the Kennedy Museum where I’ll make a wall painting installation, and show a selection of paintings and drawings. Also in September I was offered a five-day lectureship at the Academy of Fine Arts in Kolbermoor near Munich. I am interested in the global exchange of ideas.&nbsp;• Would you share your thoughts on Chicago’s art community?Chicago has more great artists than a city this size has any right to. Many do not get the recognition they deserve because it’s Chicago I suppose. The audience is not as large as one would think for a city of more than two and a half million. I’m lucky to have access to world-class museums here. Galleries are good - I wish more people supported them so that young artists didn’t feel so pressured to move to New York or Los Angeles to find the support they need.<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/619/original/judy-ledgerwood-sun-on-waves.jpg" alt=""></figure>

CGN interview with artist Judy Ledgerwood

Artist Insights: Judy Ledgerwood

BY LAURA MILLERAlibi Fine Art is a young gallery dedicated to photography - one of the few in Chicago that focuses exclusively on the medium. Located in Ravenswood on the city’s north side, Alibi is owned and operated by Lisa Janes. New to gallery ownership as of spring 2014, Janes continues to push the photo-centric mission of the gallery forward while aiming to highlight the work of often overlooked artists. Janes shared some insight with Chicago Gallery News about her new role at the gallery as well as her own interest in photography. - LM<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/510/original/installation-1.jpg" alt=""></figure>Q: Tell me about your background and your interest in art.&nbsp;A: I am originally from Alaska, but I have lived all over the country since I left for college. I studied art at the University of Puget Sound in Tacoma, WA. After receiving my BA, I completed the professional photography program at the New England School of Photography in Boston. I arrived in Chicago to take over the gallery last spring.&nbsp;&nbsp;Q: Are you an artist?A: I am an artist myself, though I rarely exhibit my own work. &nbsp;&nbsp;Q: Alibi Fine Art was established in July 2010 by Adam Holtzman (now one of Alibi’s represented artists), and you took ownership in the spring of 2014. How did this transition come about?&nbsp;A: Before I took ownership of Alibi last spring I was curating at a small gallery in Urbana, IL. Adam and I are old friends from school, and I had asked him to consign some of Joseph Sterling’s work to the gallery for an exhibit. During our collaboration he came up with the idea to turn Alibi over to me before he moved his family back to the east coast. It was something I had always wanted to do, and it was an opportunity I could not pass up.&nbsp;&nbsp;Q: The gallery has focused on photography. Will you continue to feature photography exclusively moving forward?&nbsp;A: I intend to continue to exclusively concentrate on photography. It is the medium I know and love best, and currently there are very few galleries in Chicago dedicated solely to it. I took Alibi on because I liked Adam’s selection of artists and the direction he had taken the gallery in up to that point. Deviations are inevitable, especially as I add new artists to the Alibi roster and explore potential collaborations with other organizations, but I aim to maintain the core characteristics established early on. &nbsp;<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/509/original/other-pictures-installation-8.jpg" alt=""></figure>Q: The CGN office regularly receives questions from artists about how they can get dealers to look at their work. Do you also get this question often, and are you open to reviewing new submissions even if you’re not seeking additional artists?A: I do get this question frequently, and I am sympathetic to it. Unfortunately I do not have time to respond to the numerous inquiries I receive, so I am not open to looking at unsolicited art, especially not in person. I jury and review portfolios through events such as Filter Photo Festival, and I encourage artists to take advantage of similar opportunities if they want their work to be seen by gallerists and curators. &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;Q: You recently moved the gallery from Montrose to your current Ravenswood address. How is your new space?&nbsp;A: The new location is working out well. Most of Alibi’s regulars have found me by now, and I have gotten a lot of new foot traffic from events such as the Ravenswood Art Walk. Sharing space with Manifold Chicago provides good cross-disciplinary traffic and the closer proximity to Lillstreet Art Center has benefited us as well. &nbsp;&nbsp;Q: How important is foot traffic to you and the gallery?A: I place slightly more importance on those who seek the gallery out because they tend to be the most loyal enthusiasts for the medium, however, I have had a lot of luck with repeat visitors who began as walk-ins.&nbsp;&nbsp;Q: What new shows do you have scheduled this spring?A: Coming up is David Akiba’s homage to Harry Callahan in the spring, followed by Dan Farnum’s color photographs of urban youth in Michigan. Plans are in the works to participate in more art fairs in 2015. Farther down the road I would like to work with artists from disadvantaged backgrounds to provide a way for them to show work that would otherwise go unseen.&nbsp;&nbsp;Q: Do you have any big plans for the year ahead?A: A current professional goal is to find interesting ways to spotlight my artists through social media, events, and collaborations.&nbsp;&nbsp;Alibi Fine Art 4426 N. Ravenswood (60640) Tel 773-454-1512 F-Sa 12-6; and by appt. <a href="http://www.alibifineart.com">www.alibifineart.com</a>

CGN interview with dealer Lisa Janes of Alibi Fine Art

Dealer Profile: Lisa Janes, Alibi Fine Art

By KEVIN NANCE

The artistic sensibility of Chicago architect Carlos Martinez&rsquo;s collection is best described as &ldquo;eclectic.&rdquo; Within the 3,000-square-foot Gold Coast condo he shares with his partner, Michael Tirrell, Martinez has amassed a significant modern and contemporary art collection that juxtaposes abstract and figurative work, often hung in pairings that emphasize the contrast. The art, in turn, exists in a kind of creative tension with the highly traditional interior architecture of the building, an upscale 1897 Holabird and Roche apartment complex that was one of the first of its kind in Chicago&rsquo;s Gilded Age. &nbsp;

A native of Cuba and a resident of Chicago since 1982, Martinez is now a principal at Gensler, a leading architecture firm, specializing in interior design. His taste for mixing periods and styles is evident at the couple&rsquo;s Astor Street condo (which, they were happy to discover, was once occupied by L&aacute;szl&oacute; Moholy-Nagy, the Hungarian painter and photographer who founded the Institute of Design at the Illinois Institute of Technology). Rich wood paneling, molding and floors, a massive mantelpiece and bookshelves form a striking old-world backdrop for the art, much of it by Chicago Imagists Ed Paschke and Roger Brown. &nbsp; &nbsp;

Chicago Gallery News recently sat down for an interview with Martinez, his dog Blue snuggling beneath a blanket at our feet. Here&rsquo;s an edited transcript of our chat.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

Q: How did you get started as a collector?

A: It all started 28 years ago, which is when I made my first &ldquo;serious&rdquo; purchase&mdash;the first time I went into a gallery and bought something. It was a drawing by David Kotker, a young, up-and-coming sculptor here in Chicago who was doing some really big pieces. Zolla/Lieberman had a show of his studies for the sculpture, which were really wonderful, almost de Chirico-ish. A lot of David&rsquo;s pieces were sort of perverted&mdash;the line drawing I bought has a kind of S&amp;M quality. It&rsquo;s really beautiful.

&nbsp;

Q: You still have it?

A: Yes. I&rsquo;ve never decommissioned a single piece. And then one day, David decided to get married, have a kid, and stop doing art. He was very well-known at the time&mdash;he was a darling of the art community here&mdash;but he&rsquo;s not so well known now because he quit. I think I paid $600 for the drawing.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

Q: Which was a lot of money then.

A: Oh yes. But it was a birthday present to my partner, Michael. So from that point, for every Christmas and every birthday, I would buy a new piece, occasionally more than one. We&rsquo;ve been together for 28 years, so that&rsquo;s how the collection happened.

&nbsp;

Q: Had you been single, would you still have been collecting art?

A: Yes, for sure. I would have bought it for myself. (Laughs.) I&rsquo;ve always loved art. My mother used to say when I was a kid, &ldquo;When you grow up, I think your house is going to be like a museum.&rdquo; (Laughs.)&nbsp;

&nbsp;

Q: And so it is.

A: Yes, although I don&rsquo;t think of it as a museum. (Laughs.) The other thing that happened was that around the time I bought that first piece, I did a project here in Chicago with a wonderful curator and art consultant, Emily Nixon. She&rsquo;s extremely knowledgeable and has her own company, Nixon Art Associates. I told Emily, &ldquo;Christmas is coming up and I want to buy a present for Michael. He has heard of this guy here in Chicago, Ed Paschke. Can you help me get a Paschke?&rdquo; She said yes, she knew of a great piece by Paschke at a gallery in Michigan. I went to see it and loved it, but then she said, &ldquo;Let me show you these other pieces also.&rdquo; They were these two black-and-white drawings, &ldquo;Hubert&rdquo; and &ldquo;Tudor&rdquo; [1976]. And there they are [points to the drawings over the mantelpiece]. And then she said, there&rsquo;s another piece, which I also loved. And I told her, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to buy them all.&rdquo; So that was the beginning of the whole Paschke thing. Michael and I really love his work, and over the years, when something comes up at auction, I often bid on it. Roger Brown was the other artist who Michael liked in particular.

<img alt="" data-rich-file-id="496" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/496/original/martinez-copy.jpg" />

Q: You have several pieces by both artists, I see.

A: I think there are about a dozen Paschkes and nine Roger Browns. We also have several other classics&mdash;a Motherwell, a Nevelson, a couple Picassos. There&rsquo;s an Ellsworth Kelly, which is one of my favorites. It&rsquo;s funny, because everything is either highly abstract or completely figurative. Michael says, &ldquo;If we go into another room with faces looking at you&hellip;&rdquo; Paschke is always a face, you know.

&nbsp;

Q: What was it about Paschke&rsquo;s work that appealed to you?

A: Michael had met Paschke, and one of the things he really liked was how down-to-earth Ed was. I started reading about him, and I liked the story behind the art. When Ed did one of his early pieces of a female entertainer, he got some criticism for &ldquo;exploiting&rdquo; women. The story I was told was that the next year, he came out with this series of &ldquo;Hubert&rdquo; and &ldquo;Tudor&rdquo;&mdash;there was a third piece, which I&rsquo;m tracking&mdash;about male entertainers, some of whom were transgendered. Ed was having a dialogue with the art community and its narrative around his work. I thought that was wonderful. I was on a panel recently and somebody asked me, &ldquo;What inspires your work?&rdquo; As an architect I look to the social construct of the time&mdash;what&rsquo;s happening in the world, in popular culture. That was also the lens Paschke used in his art. The fact that he was a Chicagoan was also important, and that he was part of this school, the Imagists, with Roger Brown.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

Q: What was the connection with Brown? Did you meet him?

A: I never met Ed Paschke, and Michael never met Roger Brown. Part of what we like about Brown is that many of his paintings are about buildings and the people in them. Everybody thinks, &ldquo;Oh, you&rsquo;re an architect, so of course you like Roger Brown.&rdquo; It was Michael who was mesmerized by his depictions of glowing windows in the black-box buildings. He really connected with that, and I loved it too, because I love Mies van der Rohe, and we lived in a Mies building on Lake Shore Drive at the time. I also like how Brown depicts the sky.

&nbsp;

Q: Those pillowy skies&mdash;

A: Pillowy, yes. Or they look like drapery. He was even more outrageous than Paschke with his critical commentaries. We went to a Brown show at the Phyllis Kind Gallery and saw the piece &ldquo;The Jim and Tammy Show.&rdquo; I loved it, in part because here again we are dealing with popular culture in the context of fine art. I can&rsquo;t say I understood it; in fact I wondered, &ldquo;What the hell does it mean?&rdquo;

&nbsp;

Q: You knew who Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker were?

A: Yes, although politically, I had absolutely no affiliation with their mission. I showed it to Michael and said, &ldquo;We should get this, it&rsquo;s so cool.&rdquo; He said, &ldquo;That is the most horrible thing I&rsquo;ve ever seen in my life.&rdquo; (Laughs.)

&nbsp;

Q: It has a camp sensibility.

A: Super-camp. It&rsquo;s about religious fanaticism, of course, but also the scandal they had. So about three years ago, that piece came up at auction, I think at Leslie Hindman, and I said, &ldquo;I have to get it. I was destined to have that piece.&rdquo; I gave it to Michael as a Christmas present. He got a big laugh out of it.

&nbsp;

Q: I see you also have a print by Le Corbusier, which makes sense given the architecture connection.

A: Yes, I bought a book about his lithographs in 1979 when I was an architecture student. I bought it at the Le Corbusier Foundation in Paris, and probably paid $20. The book now is worth $800, which is what a copy sold for recently at auction. I loved the lithographs.

&nbsp;

Q: He&rsquo;s not so well-known for those, is he?

A: No, but they&rsquo;ve become very collectible. The Peninsula Hotel has six of them. When one of the lithographs came up for auction at Leslie Hindman, I said, &ldquo;I need to have this piece.&rdquo; I had a business trip and had to be out of town, so I told Michael, &ldquo;Could you please go to the auction and bid on this piece?&rdquo; The day of the auction, I called home and Michael said, &ldquo;I feel terrible. I got to the auction a couple minutes late and didn&rsquo;t get to bid on the piece. I&rsquo;m really sorry.&rdquo; I was so disappointed. A few months later, Christmas Eve comes, and we were going to have dinner with Emily Nixon. We got in the car to go to dinner, and Michael said, &ldquo;I forgot something,&rdquo; and went back inside. He took a long time and I was getting upset. Finally we went to dinner and came home and were having tea. I said, &ldquo;Wait a minute, there&rsquo;s something different.&rdquo; There was the Le Corbusier piece, framed and hanging on the wall. That was really nice of Michael.

&nbsp;

Q: And kind of wicked, also.

A: Absolutely.

&nbsp;

Q: Your architecturally traditional apartment sets up an interesting dynamic with contemporary art hanging on the walls.

A: I always loved the idea of the contrast between classical architecture and modern furniture and art. In Spanish, the word for furniture is mueble, and the word for real estate is inmueble. Literally, what&rsquo;s movable is mueble and what&rsquo;s fixed is inmueble. The terminology clarifies the fact that some things you take with you, and other things stay behind. To me, architecture is designed for the ages, but furniture and art reflect where you are in time. So coming to this classical apartment was about creating a tension between the two things.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

Kevin Nance is a Chicago-based freelance writer and photographer.&nbsp;<a href="https://twitter.com/kevinnance1">Twitter @KevinNance1</a>

&nbsp;

Image picture at top: Martinez shows off works by Paschke and Roger Brown alongside various artifacts.

&nbsp;

A collector interview with Carlos Martinez

A Classic Setting for Eclectic Art

<html><head></head><body><figure class="image image-style-side"><img src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dfafo598z/image/upload/v1721417943/nzmy38pedy2ltbzyotye.jpg"></figure>&nbsp;By KEVIN NANCEIn the community of art dealers in Chicago, Kavi Gupta stands out as one of the busiest and most ambitious. From his base in his eponymous gallery at 835 W. Washington, Gupta surveys an expanding mini-empire of exhibition spaces that now includes a branch in Berlin as well as two satellite spaces in Chicago (219 N. Elizabeth in the West Loop and 2108 S. California in Pilsen); in September, he plans to open a fourth Chicago space, a store specializing in art books and small editions, next door to the main gallery.Over the years, Gupta has represented a core group of midcareer artists from Chicago—including Theaster Gates, Curtis Mann, Angel Otero, Melanie Schiff and Tony Tasset—but casts a wide net in terms of marketing them around the globe. More recently, his stable of artists has diversified in terms of geography, but Gupta’s approach to selling their work has remained consistently international.&nbsp;Chicago Gallery News recently visited Gupta, 45, at the Washington Boulevard gallery, where he also lives in a rooftop apartment with his wife, Jessica Moss, associate curator of contemporary art at the Smart Museum of Art at the University of Chicago. Following is an edited transcript of our chat.&nbsp;What drew you to become an art dealer, and what was your preparation for it?I started out collecting art. My family in India are some of the biggest collectors of contemporary Indian art. My father, Raj Gupta, was an architect and an engineer, who moved here in 1964 and worked with Bertrand Goldberg on Marina City. I was born in 1969, and our life was about architecture and design. I was an art history minor at Northern Illinois University; I was an investment banker after college but was spending all of my money on art. I went to get a master’s at the business school at the University of Chicago, and they allowed us to work with other departments. I chose the art history department, and that really propelled me into thinking I wanted to do something with art. I wanted to be around art, I wanted to be around artists, and I wanted to show what I was collecting. In the late ’90s, I found a building in the West Loop, a boarded-up crack house on Peoria, for a dollar a square foot. I called right there and said, “I’ll take it.” I built that space over two years, and I later bought the building across the street. As the West Loop developed, the value of those spaces went up, and we were able to leverage that into buying this building.&nbsp;Fifteen years later, you’ve got a ton going on.Yes, although the busyness, for us, isn’t really defined by how many people are walking through the door. We’ve positioned ourselves as a gallery that’s based in Chicago, but we don’t quantify our success based on things happening here. I just had a meeting with the staff, and they’re so busy that they can’t fathom how they’re going to get everything done. But it’s to do with all the things we’re doing around the world—collectors from everywhere, artists from everywhere. We’re a global gallery that just happens to be located here.&nbsp;The majority of our artists are Chicago artists, but we’re promoting them around the world.It’s not about foot traffic.Right. In New York, it’s about dealing with who walks into the gallery; that’s their day. Our day is meetings and conference calls and research for artists and flying everywhere. Somebody from the gallery’s on the road all the time. We’re very proactive on behalf of artists, and that means not sitting here waiting for that client to come into our door. So our guys are out there talking to collectors, talking to curators, talking to art writers, pitching ideas and getting in front of them. If you look out my office door, you’d see two people packaging catalogs and other people writing proposals for museum shows. We have one person doing nothing but PR for specific artists. We have two people, who are artist liaisons, going to artists’ studios, talking about their practice, and talking about what’s coming next. It’s a constant back-office function and a high level of activity with a global focus.What was the thought process behind opening the Berlin gallery?It was part of this same thing we’ve been talking about. Berlin is a cultural capital, a place where curators and artists live and spend time. It’s about thinking; it’s about looking. And it’s a place where new art always comes from. For me Berlin has always been that place in Europe. It’s also very affordable, so it was a great place to make a European foothold. We wanted to reach out beyond Chicago and establish a beachhead for our Chicago artists, to have a different audience come and see the work, increase its recognition. It’s been very successful. We also use Berlin as a way to find new artists from Germany and elsewhere. Because it’s so affordable, artists come from all over the world and have studios there. There are artists from every city in Europe, as well as from Japan, China, and India. So it’s important for us to be there and see what’s really happening in contemporary art today.You also have multiple spaces in Chicago. You just opened a new one on Elizabeth Street, for example.That’s right, and we have a third space as well, an 11,000-square-foot building in Pilsen. The idea, basically, is to build opportunities for our artists. A lot of them work in large scale, and I wanted to give them the impetus to do that if they wanted to. We did a large show of Roxy Paine pieces, Apparatus, in the Elizabeth Street space that won the AICA [International Association of Art Critics-USA] Award as the best gallery show in the country; it took up two rooms and 5,000 square feet. It was a museum-caliber show, one of the bigger productions a gallery has ever done in Chicago. We also produced a Tony Tasset piece for the Whitney Biennial that was 80 feet long.&nbsp;So you have three spaces in Chicago - you’re opening a fourth - and you have one in Berlin. That’s a lot.It happened by need; it wasn’t really a conscious decision. Our gallery here isn’t that big, and we don’t have storage. At one point I was renting a storage building for $8,000 a month, and one of our collectors, a banker, said, “That’s ridiculous. Why don’t you go buy a warehouse, and your mortgage will be half of that for a bigger space.” So we bought the Elizabeth Street building, an 8,000-square-foot cold-storage facility that we renovated, and yes, the mortgage is less than half. And the space turned out so beautifully that we decided to start doing exhibitions there. And then the Pilsen space, a former auto garage, turned into the storage building.So it’s not about establishing an empire.Oh my gosh, no. We’re way too exhausted for that. We’re just working very hard for our artists, and we have to do what they need. We’ve only grown to fill that need.&nbsp;Will you keep expanding in the near future, or stay the same size?We don’t plan things that much; we’re just going with the flow. We do plan to open a kind of small bookstore and editions gallery, which has been a dream project for a while. It’s going to open next to us in this building in September. A lot of our artists are producing small editions, along with monographs or art books, so the new space will be a place to show those. We also want to be able to do lectures and artist talks there, to bring a criticality to the shows we’re doing. &nbsp;&nbsp;Is there some through-line, some shared quality in the artists you choose to represent?Well, there’s a regional focus to some extent. We like to find and promote artists from Chicago; it’s a big thing for us. We’re really proud of having found a program here and taking it global. Another area of common ground is that we’re interested in artists who develop a narrative through process. They’re very interested in the process of making things, and they make a hint of a narrative. Or there’s some personal statement that’s being made.&nbsp;As opposed to something that’s purely abstract.Right. Another area we’re interested in is artists with a little bit of a social practice, a social narrative—who are making, not so much a political commentary, but are looking at the world and responding to it. This September, for example, we have shows by Mickalene Thomas and Glenn Kaino. Both of them deal with issues they’ve been grappling with, including race, gender, political structures. Mickalene’s show is mostly done in cast bronze and has to do with her history with her mother, who was a flamboyant African-American socialite in the ’60s. Mickalene also produced a film about this, “Happy Birthday to a Beautiful Woman,” that was broadcast this year on HBO; the film will be shown here in the gallery. Also this fall we’ll be doing Glenn’s Leviathan, his first major show in many years, in the Elizabeth Street space.Which artists have you had the longest professional relationships with?Angel Otero, for one; we started working with him before he had finished grad school. Tony Tasset, who had a show here this summer, we’ve been working with for many, many years. We’ve added four or five new ones—including Mickalene, Glenn, Roxy, Jessica Stockholder and McArthur Binion—but most of our artists, we’ve been working with for close to 10 years.Back in the days of the Hairy Who and the Imagists, Chicago artists had a kind of group identity, a set of shared aesthetic concerns, but that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore.&nbsp;The good thing about being removed from New York or L.A. is that there, artists do tend to become slightly homogeneous; they develop schools that emerge pretty regularly, and the schools themselves push an aesthetic. Here, I think the artists don’t tend to group in those ways. Everyone has a unique practice, and we look at each artist as an individual here. I can’t think of anything that really ties them together, but I think that’s a good thing.&nbsp;&nbsp;Kevin Nance is a Chicago-based freelance writer + photographer. Twitter @KevinNance1</body></html>

Kavi Gupta: Taking Chicago Artists Global

By KEVIN NANCEArt collectors often claim that they buy art solely because they love it, not because they consider it an investment. But for Paul and Linda Gotskind, a Chicago couple who’ve spent the past quarter-century thoughtfully amassing an impressive collection of contemporary art, they see a work’s monetary value, now and (potentially) in the future, as a necessary part of the decision-making process.“Most people would probably say that they don’t have the money thing in the back of their minds, but they do,” Paul Gotskind says in an interview at their River North home. “We buy art mostly because we like it, but when you’re buying something that costs a lot of money, you’ve got to think about the investment part of it. I’m not saying we buy things because they might go up in value, but at the same time, I don’t want to lose every cent we’re putting into it, either.”Linda is even more definite on the subject. “For me, it’s part of my portfolio,” she says. “I’m not in a position to spend several million dollars on something and ignore the possibility that it could be worthless at some point.”The Gotskinds’ unapologetic practicality with regard to art and money stems in part from the fact that they both spent most of their professional careers as stock and commodities traders, he at the Chicago Board of Trade and she at the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. &nbsp;(Paul remains an active stock trader, working from home; Linda, a teacher before entering the financial industry, is retired.)&nbsp;Their understanding of the fiscal realities of art collecting also affects the art they buy and how they buy it. They deal primarily with established galleries in New York, Los Angeles and Chicago (including the Richard Gray, Alan Koppel, Kavi Gupta and Rhona Hoffman galleries). “We’ve occasionally bought pieces from galleries whose reputations we weren’t sure of,” admits Linda Gotskind, “which might not have been the best decision.” And rather than take risks on emerging artists, the couple prefers to collect work by mid-career artists “who’ve made a move for themselves,” as Paul puts it. “They’re associated with good galleries, they’ve sold at auction, they’re in museum collections.”Also hovering in the background of their art-buying choices is the fact that with his first wife, Paul Gotskind built a significant collection of work by blue-chip artists such as Picasso, Dubuffet, Frank Stella and Cy Twombly.&nbsp;At the time of their divorce, Gotskind and his ex-wife chose to sell the entire collection rather than make the difficult decisions that would have been necessary to divide it. “If we hadn’t sold it, that collection would have been worth a small fortune today,” he says wistfully. “Now I’m paying the same amount for younger artists that I was paying for blue-chip artists back then.”*<figure class="image"><img src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/430/original/gotskinds-2-copy.jpg" alt=""></figure>The Gotskinds’ collecting is also largely about their own emotional investment. Showing a visitor around their 2,800-square-foot condo recently (they also have a home in Laguna Beach, Calif., where they keep the other half of their collection of about 100 pieces), they take obvious pleasure in the work. They are unusually knowledgeable about each piece, having developed relationships with many of the artists and learned more than many collectors do about the art-making processes involved. Their collection is consciously integrated with family heirlooms and photographs. “That’s my best art,” Linda says proudly of a framed portrait, “My grandkids.”Both Paul and Linda know what they like (primarily painting and sculpture, the latter often with a textured, tactile quality) and what they don’t. “Conceptual art is something we’re still working on,” Linda says. “Something that needs an explanation, that you have to study up on, is not what I’m normally drawn to—although when you walk around with a curator, that’s all they’re drawn to.” Most of all, they’re drawn to quality. “We’re big fans of buying one of the better pieces by an artist,” Paul says. “I’d rather buy a lesser artist’s better work than Andy Warhol’s worst piece.”Along the way, the Gotskinds have developed fairly specific affinities: for African-American artists, including Rashid Johnson, Kehinde Wiley, Charles Gaines, Jack Whitten and Theaster Gates (“Black artists are having their time right now,” Linda says); women artists (including Rosson Crow, Wangechi Mutu and Elizabeth Neel); and Chicago artists (including Gates, Angel Otero, Dzine and William J. O’Brien).“Paul and Linda have an extraordinary eye,” says Tony Karman, who enlisted the Gotskinds as investors in Expo Chicago, the annual art fair at Navy Pier. “They are very active on the contemporary art scene, not only with leading galleries but as people who collect artists who have gone on to great careers. One of the best parts of their collecting ethos is that they don’t use an art adviser; they share the experience of finding artists they want to collect, and they stay true to their curatorial vision.”Perhaps the Gotskinds’ biggest problem now as art collectors is that they’re essentially out of display space, though they continue to actively collect. Virtually every possible place to show art in their two homes is filled.&nbsp; Lending pieces to museums (which they do frequently, including recent loans to Chicago’s Museum of Contemporary Art and other institutions) only solves the problem temporarily.“It’s a question we don’t have an answer to yet,” Paul says a smile. “We’re working on it.”One possibility is to sell some work at auction, which, so far, they’ve done only sparingly. Another option is to donate some artworks to museums, but that still leaves something to be desired. “The pieces the museums are the most interested in are the pieces we’re most interested in,” Linda says, “and I’m not ready to give them up just yet.”Kevin Nance is a Chicago-based freelance writer and photographer. Twitter @KevinNance1

Collector Profile: Linda and Paul Gotskind

By KEVIN NANCE

In 1986, two young brothers, ShanZuo and DaHuang Zhou, visited Chicago to attend an exhibition of paintings they had created together in their home country of China. The brothers&rsquo; unique partnership&mdash;they collaborated on large canvases on which their sensibilities melded into a cohesive, though not always seamless, whole&mdash;had already made them rising art stars in Beijing. In Chicago, it was an even greater curiosity, in part because Americans think of visual artists as the ultimate individualists working in isolation, chasing intensely personal visions that no one else, not even a sibling, could possibly share.&nbsp;

Two painters, one painting: How could that work?

Twenty-eight years later, the Zhou Brothers are still in Chicago, still raising eyebrows with their seemingly counterintuitive process of making art as a team. The difference now is that piece after piece, exhibit after exhibit, they&rsquo;ve proved the wisdom and fertility of their collaboration. They are fixtures of the international contemporary art scene, their paintings fetching prices starting in the six figures in the United States and Asia. (They also create sculpture, the largest examples of which currently sell for up to $8 million.)&nbsp;

The brothers also loom large in realms beyond the art world, making paintings as a form of performance art in front of business and political leaders at gatherings such as the World Economic Forum in Switzerland in 2000. In 2011, President Obama commissioned the Zhou Brothers to create a painting that he presented to China&rsquo;s president, Hu Jintao, in a private ceremony attended by the brothers at the White House.

But even as the Zhou Brothers&rsquo; career has expanded into most corners of the globe, they have anchored themselves in Chicago, specifically in the South Side&rsquo;s Bridgeport neighborhood. They live and work in a former Polish social club, which now contains a vast, airy, light-filled studio where they create their paintings, often working on up to 15 large pieces at once. (Sometimes the brothers paint with the stretched canvases lying flat on the floor, sometimes standing up, sometimes both at different stages.) And two blocks away, the Zhou B Art Center, a sprawling complex of galleries, artist studios and event spaces established by the brothers at 1029 W. 35th Street, is preparing to celebrate its tenth anniversary this fall.

&ldquo;Chicago feels like home,&rdquo; ShanZuo says in a recent interview in the garden of their Bridgeport complex. (DaHuang is the younger of the pair, although both brothers, who keep themselves fit and favor stylish, form-fitting outfits and hipster hats, appear significantly younger than their actual ages, which they declined to reveal.) &ldquo;At first we didn&rsquo;t intend to remain in Chicago, but once we got here, we felt like we need to stay,&rdquo; DaHuang says. &ldquo;Chinese artists are a little shy, a little humble, singing very deep. In America, it&rsquo;s more powerful, more direct.&rdquo; He smiles. &ldquo;Here you show your muscle.&rdquo;

*

In their earliest artistic efforts in China, the Zhou brothers trained and painted separately, but they came together as a team in 1973. &ldquo;At first it was just for fun,&rdquo; ShanZuo says. &ldquo;Collaboration among scholars and calligraphers is a tradition in China, so we thought we would try.&rdquo;

But the brothers quickly realized two things. One was that their collaboration wasn&rsquo;t always fun. As part of the process, each brother has the freedom to cancel out&mdash;to &ldquo;destroy,&rdquo; in their blunt terminology&mdash;what the other has done by altering, augmenting or erasing it entirely. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s totally free to do anything,&rdquo; ShanZuo says, &ldquo;I am free to do anything, including to cover over what he&nbsp;did.&rdquo;

From the start, then, their collaboration was rooted at least as much in conflict as in harmony. When they paint, the brothers&rsquo; separate identities neither merge nor disappear; rather, they engage in a dialogue, one responding to the other, and sometimes the conversation can become a bit heated.&nbsp;

&ldquo;Sometimes he gives you a surprise,&rdquo; DaHuang says of his brother. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re working very smoothly, developing something, feeling very comfortable with it, and then he comes in and goes&nbsp;pah-pah-pah-pah-pah! And everything is destroyed. It&rsquo;s hard to take sometimes. You respect his talent, but it doesn&rsquo;t mean you don&rsquo;t get angry.&rdquo;

But out of that destruction and those sometimes raw emotions also came something unexpected: a new form of art-making that produced results that neither brother could have accomplished on his own.&nbsp; &ldquo;At the beginning, we knew it was interesting, but we didn&rsquo;t know how&nbsp;special it was, how important it was,&rdquo; DaHuang says. &ldquo;But more and more as we worked together, we realized the value&nbsp;of the collaboration. People think we have&nbsp;the same idea and bring harmony to it before coming to the canvas. That&rsquo;s wrong. The value of&nbsp;the collaboration is that it opens up things that couldn&rsquo;t happen any&nbsp;other way. When you paint by yourself, no matter how great a painter you are&mdash;Picasso, whatever&mdash;you won&rsquo;t have the courage to destroy your own painting. You&nbsp;think you are always right. But two people together, they don&rsquo;t care. You paint something amazing, but he destroys it, because he sees it differently. And with this kind of fighting, something comes out in the painting&nbsp;that&rsquo;s never happened before. It&rsquo;s a mystery, and it creates a new magic.&rdquo;

The greatest mystery, perhaps, is that for all the struggle implicit in their creation, the paintings often arrive at a place of harmony, or at least a balance of elements, however precarious. Sometimes the balance has the feeling of competitors battling each other to a draw; other times, a natural order is achieved, like planets threatening to collide but slipping, at the last moment, into alignment.

&ldquo;It&rsquo;s quite unique, what they do,&rdquo; says Kuiyi Shen, Director of the Chinese Studies Program and Professor of Asian Art History, Theory and Criticism at the University of California, San Diego. Shen is also author of the introductory essay in Zhou Brothers: 30 Years of Collaboration, published in 2004 in connection with an exhibition mounted by the Chicago Cultural Center and the Elmhurst Art Museum. &ldquo;They start from differences, from their own places, and then there&rsquo;s a competition&mdash;a confrontation, actually. But gradually, the two sides get together, and that results eventually in harmony.&rdquo;

Sergio Gomez, curator and director of exhibitions at the Zhou B Art Center, often finds himself awed by how the brothers repeatedly manage to find equilibrium. &ldquo;What makes it work for them is their culture of trust,&rdquo; he says. &ldquo;Sometimes when you see them together, you have a sense that they&rsquo;re connecting in a language besides the verbal. Many times they fight, but at the end, the whole comes together and it turns out to be incredibly beautiful.&rdquo;

As ShanZuo puts it, &ldquo;Sometimes after a while, you both see something, and it&rsquo;s good. You stop right there. The painting is done.&rdquo;

*

The Zhou Brothers&rsquo; work has evolved considerably over the decades. &ldquo;As artists, when you start to feel like you satisfy yourself, you always pursue a different thing,&rdquo; DaHuang says. &ldquo;You always look for the best way to make your art go further, go beyond.&rdquo;

&ldquo;When you&rsquo;re young, you think you can do everything,&rdquo; his brother adds. &ldquo;But it takes a long time to find your own style.&rdquo; DaHuang nods. &ldquo;The most important thing is what kind of artistic language you create for yourself.&rdquo;

Their first collaborations in the 1970s were often representational and narrative-based, inspired by Chinese folklore&mdash;one early painting, currently on display in their dining room, shows a mythical beast being slain&mdash;and primitive cave drawings. In the &rsquo;80s, the brothers pushed their engagement with 5,000 years of Chinese art history into the realms of modern art, producing work that, while grounded in tradition, increasingly responded to the international art world in a way that combined the ancient and the cutting-edge.

After settling in Chicago, the brothers spent the &rsquo;90s soaking up influences from their new environment, producing a body of work that was both heavier in texture and more abstract. In those paintings&mdash;several of which remain on view through Oct. 4 at the Zhou B Art Center as part of an exhibit called Zhou Brothers: American Period&mdash;minimalist figures (often secret self-portraits) are prominent, strolling through somber color fields illuminated by lightning flashes of vibrant red.

Since the turn of the millennium, the Zhou Brothers&rsquo; paintings have become almost entirely abstract, decorative and free-flowing, most traces of narrative and the figure having been eliminated. Texture is more important than ever, the canvases rougher, the paint thicker and more three-dimensional. The paintings are more gestural, more intuitive and more concerned with a fluid kind of movement, than before&mdash;a fluidity not of things but of emotions, reflecting their philosophy that &ldquo;feeling is liberty.&rdquo;

&ldquo;Our work is not about thinking, it&rsquo;s about feeling,&rdquo; ShanZuo says. &ldquo;When we paint, something is flowing there, you just have to feel it. It&rsquo;s like tai chi [a Chinese self-defense discipline now used primarily as exercise and stress reduction]. It doesn&rsquo;t look powerful, but the power is there.&rdquo;

Accordingly, the brothers engage in a minimum of chatter when they paint. &ldquo;Originally we talked and planned,&rdquo; DaHuang says. &ldquo;Later we realized we don&rsquo;t have to talk too much.&rdquo;

ShanZuo nods. &ldquo;The painting itself,&rdquo; he says, &ldquo;is the conversation.&rdquo;

&nbsp;

Image shown at top of page:&nbsp;The Zhou Brothers, DaHuang Zhou and ShanZuo Zhou, in their Bridgeport studio. Photo: Kevin Nance, 2014

&nbsp;

Kevin Nance is a Chicago-based freelance writer and photographer. Twitter @KevinNance1

&nbsp;

The Zhou Brothers: Four Decades of Collaboration

BY LAURA MILLER

I first met James Mespl&eacute; one day several years ago, when he stopped into the Chicago Gallery News office after visiting Printworks Gallery. He dropped off a catalogue from his upcoming show and shared a first hand explanation of his conceptually loaded work. Since that visit, and on many others, I&rsquo;ve been pleased to gain knowledge and history from the congenial, insightful Chicago artist.&nbsp;

Mespl&eacute;&rsquo;s intricate paintings link the past to the present through portrayals of historical imagery, mythical figures, and surrealist landscapes; fine details and vibrant, saturated colors fill his canvases. References to pop culture and modern themes dot his work along with the occasional glimpse of the artist himself.&nbsp;

Mespl&eacute; studied painting at the University of Missouri in his home state, and following his move to Chicago in 1968, graduated with honors from Northeastern Illinois University in 1970. He has taught art at various Chicago institutions over the years, including Francis W. Parker School, and the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. Mespl&eacute; lives and works in Chicago where he is represented by Printworks Gallery, and his work is included in numerous public and private collections. - LM

Image shown at top of page:&nbsp;James Mespl&eacute;, Calliop&eacute;, Muse of Epic Song and Poetry, multi-media collage on paper, 2013-14, 7 &frac12;&rdquo; x 9 &frac12;&rdquo;

<img alt="" data-caption="James Mesplé, &lt;i&gt;Clio&lt;/i&gt;, Muse of History, multi-media collage on paper, 2013-14, 7 ½” x 9 ½”" data-rich-file-id="444" height="546" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/444/original/clio-web.jpg" width="682" />

<h4>LM: How long have you lived in Chicago?&nbsp;</h4>

JM: I&rsquo;ve lived in Chicago since 1968. I was 19 when I moved here, and I&rsquo;m from a small town in the Ozarks called Nevada, Missouri. I had visited my brother in New York and my sister in Chicago in previous summers, so when I decided to leave the University of Missouri to finish my education, I chose Chicago.&nbsp;

<h4>Tell me about your recent summer exhibition, Mythic Faces &amp; Figures, at the Chicago Cultural Center and your upcoming fall show, Muse, at Printworks Gallery.&nbsp;</h4>

Mythic Faces and Figures at the Cultural Center included my larger canvases in egg tempera and oil, a mixed technique of painting that I originally learned from Thomas Hart Benton, whom I met through my teacher Fred Shane.&nbsp; This process gives luminous, brilliant color, which I very much like. &nbsp;

Muse, my Printworks exhibition, is a series of 33 new collages, made with a variety of water-soluble media, including ink, watercolor, gouache, casein, and acrylic painted over paper collages. Most of the works are small and intimate. The Muses inspire us in the diverse arts. Many people know about the nine Muses but few know their names or attributes. I hope everyone will stop by the gallery, see the exhibition, and pick up the free catalogue, which is really a small guide to the Muses. Once you know their names, you will see them pop up in works by writers as diverse as Shakespeare, Walt Whitman, and James Joyce. The Muses can take you on a journey to both the past and the future.

<h4>I always enjoy hearing your stories. Can you share a noteworthy memory about a triumph you&rsquo;ve encountered throughout your years as an artist?</h4>

In 1987, I was commissioned by Chicago City Ballet to create sets for Chicago!, a new ballet to celebrate the 150th anniversary of the city of Chicago. The premier was at the Chicago Theater on State Street. I couldn&rsquo;t miss the chance to put a monumental image of a golden Venus on the top of the Sears Tower (now Willis). It did not go unnoticed by the critics. This led me to produce a painting with similar images, which was included in my first international invitational exhibition at the Queens Museum in New York in 1988. The title of that exhibition was Classical Myth and Imagery in Contemporary Art. In the art world it is certainly true that &ldquo;one thing leads to another.&rdquo;

<img alt="" data-caption="James Mesplé, &lt;i&gt;Terpsichoré&lt;/i&gt;, Muse of Dance, multi-media collage on paper, 2013-14, 9 ½&quot; x 7 ½”" data-rich-file-id="445" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/445/original/terpsichore-web.jpg" />

<h4>Your work is loaded with vivid representations of classical figures, and nods to historic symbolism.&nbsp;Can you elaborate on your interest in mythology and historical subject matter?</h4>

I have always been interested in the narrative in my painting, and in my music as well. My preference is classical music. I like a beginning, a middle, and an ending. For me, it is rather like sex&mdash;the foreplay, the act of pleasure, and the climax. Remove any one of these three parts and something is definitely missing. Sometimes, in narrative painting, the story is only suggested and the viewers complete the action in their minds. These stories have as many different endings as there are viewers. We get out of a painting what we personally bring to it.&nbsp;

I love mythology because the narratives are always open to various interpretations. Often multiple meanings exist simultaneously, both mundane and profound; exoteric and esoteric. My interest in mythology began at an early age, encouraged by my grandfather, who shared with me the stories he learned from his father and grandmother. I find many similarities between his Osage (Native American) stories and the Greek Myths, since both deal with the forces of nature, the sky, the earth, and the creatures that live upon it. Carl Jung, of course, would claim archetypes exist in all cultures.

<h4>What do you find unique about Chicago&rsquo;s art community?&nbsp;</h4>

I find it a nurturing place to work because it is not market-driven. Art, whether a novel, a painting, or a symphony requires time, energy, and isolation in order to bring an artistic creation to completion.&nbsp;

Chicago provides a wonderful cocoon in which art can develop and mature before it emerges and takes its flight from the artist&rsquo;s studio. Other cities around the world have provided the same conditions for the development of art at different times, but the muse is fickle; she never stays in any one city forever. Chicago&rsquo;s location in the middle of the country was in the past a detriment, but it is now looking more like an asset, as people move away from the edges of the continent. For many Americans, the Great Lakes, the Prairie, and the Mississippi are still terra incognita, but in the new century, this is going to change. What will the art of the new century look like? Only one thing is certain. It won&rsquo;t look anything like work from the 20th century, which looked nothing like work from the 19th century, which looked nothing like work from the 18th century, etc., etc.

<h4>Are you in the middle of any big projects?&nbsp;</h4>

I am starting a new series of egg tempera and oil paintings on panels, which incorporate gesso relief in both the picture plane and the frames. The nature of the subjects and narratives are top secret at this time.&nbsp;

The twelve paintings will take me two years to complete. They should be ready for exhibition in the fall of 2016.

<img alt="" data-caption="James Mesplé, &lt;i&gt;Melpomené&lt;/i&gt;, Muse of Tragedy, multi-media collage on paper, 2013-14, 9 ½&quot; x 7 ½”" data-rich-file-id="446" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/446/original/melpomene-web.jpg" />

<h4>Do you have a favorite place in Chicago?</h4>

I love the conservatories at Garfield Park and Lincoln Park, and the Chicago Botanic Garden in Highland Park. I have been sketching plants in all these places since the early 1970s. At that time, when I was still teaching, I used to take my Francis Parker art students to the Lincoln Park conservatory to sketch.

<h4>What books /authors /poetry do you find yourself re-reading every so often? Any classics or old favorites that have really influenced you or your work?</h4>

Shakespeare, Edith Hamilton on Mythology, and Harry Thurston Peck&rsquo;s Classical Literature and Antiquities. Elise Paschen commissioned me to create a painting for the cover of a book of poems entitled Bestiary (Red Hen Press). Her poems, which draw upon her Osage heritage, I found both provocative and powerful. I reread Bestiary recently and found that her poems release a torrent of emotions and images, which any artist could draw upon for ideas.

<h4>Tell me about your studio practice. What is the typical evolution of one of your paintings, for example? How long will you work on a piece, and do you have a set plan when you begin or do elements develop as you work?</h4>

My normal practice is to get up, have breakfast, go out for a good coffee, and get back to start work by 9:30am or so and I work until 6pm, with a 30 minute lunch break. Often I return to the studio after dinner and work until about 10pm. My works begin with small thumbnail sketches that get transposed into small drawings, which are then gridded up to canvas size. The large paintings usually take about two months from beginning to completion. As I work on the pieces, often my plans change and I add or take away elements in the composition. Sometimes, I move on to a new work, only to return to an older work.

<h4>Describe your studio. Is it Organized and tidy, or more of a hodgepodge?&nbsp;</h4>

My studio fluctuates from being organized and neat to a hodgepodge, as I move to the completion of a project.&nbsp;

<img alt="" data-caption="James Mesplé, &lt;i&gt;Erato&lt;/i&gt;, Muse of Erotic Poetry, multi-media collage on paper, 2013-14, 9 ½&quot; x 7 ½”" data-rich-file-id="447" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/447/original/erato-web.jpg" />

<h4>What inspires you to produce work? Do you have a long list of ideas ready to go, or do you wait for a spark of some kind?</h4>

I have dozens, probably a hundred, sketch books full of ideas, quick sketches done on my travels to museums and intriguing places here and abroad. I refer to these constantly, and one sketch may inspire several works. However, I have come to the conclusion that I would need several lifetimes to make use of all of my sketches. Sometimes, ideas happen in dreams, and I get up and sketch them down before I lose them. Daydreams are easier.&nbsp;

<h4>Are there artists, past or present, whose work you really admire?</h4>

An early influence was Ivan Albright, whose paintings I first encountered in the Art Institute when I visited as a grade school student. In Missouri, I gained much from two of my earliest teachers, Fred Shane and Thomas Hart Benton. In Chicago, I was inspired by the Imagists, especially the paintings of Ed Paschke, who later hired me to give egg tempera workshops to his students at Northwestern. And I studied under Karl Wirsum, at the SAIC. And, of course, I am influenced by numerous Old Masters, especially Botticelli, Piero di Cosimo, and Martin Schoengauer.

<h4>You have a history of teaching at various educational institutions. How was your experience with teaching? Any comments on how the landscape has changed in art education, or on the current state of art education?</h4>

I taught full time for ten years at the Francis Parker School, and part time at the studios in the School of the Art Institute.&nbsp; I enjoyed both, but teaching never left me with enough time for my work.&nbsp; I have been away from teaching for years, so I cannot speak authoritatively on the current situation.

CGN interviews artist James McNeil Mesple

Artist Insights: James McNeill Mesplé

Realizing Realism: Gwendolyn Zabicki

By KEVIN NANCE

*This profile was published in the May-August 2014 issue of Chicago Gallery News

<img alt="" class="left" data-caption="Tom McCormick and Janis Kanter at home in Hyde Park. Painting: Mary Abbott, &quot;Imrie,&quot; 1953 o.c., 71 x 74&quot;" data-rich-file-id="213" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/chigal/rich/rich_files/rich_files/213/original/tomjanisvert.jpg" />If the secret of a happy marriage is compromise, Thomas McCormick and Janis Kanter are one of the happiest couples on Chicago&rsquo;s art-collecting scene. Despite their significantly differing tastes&mdash;he leans toward mid-20th-century abstract painting, mostly by deceased artists; she favors contemporary work by living artists in various media, photography in particular&mdash;McCormick and Kanter have blended their interests and, along the way, created one of the city&rsquo;s most eclectic yet surprisingly harmonious private collections.

Over their 22-year marriage, this Chicago art-world power couple&mdash;he owns the Thomas McCormick Gallery in the West Loop, while she chairs the board of directors at the Hyde Park Art Center&mdash;have learned how to negotiate with each other on their joint acquisitions. Sometimes it&rsquo;s a matter of one bending a bit in the other&rsquo;s direction. Other times it&rsquo;s a matter of one spouse recognizing that the other&rsquo;s enthusiasm for a particular work of art is so primal, so unshakable that resistance is futile.&nbsp;

&ldquo;I would say the decision-making is heavily weighted to one side of the couple,&rdquo; McCormick says with a smile, pointing his chin in Kanter&rsquo;s direction during an interview at their sprawling historic home, a 1904 Holabird and Roche mansion in Hyde Park that they bought and refurbished five years ago. &ldquo;One of the first expensive pieces we bought together was at the Chicago art fair at Navy Pier a while back,&rdquo; McCormick recalls. &ldquo;I step out into the corridor and here comes Janis walking towards me. She&rsquo;s got that look, and I know I&rsquo;m in trouble.&rdquo;&nbsp;

His wife doesn&rsquo;t deny it. &ldquo;If I don&rsquo;t like it,&rdquo; she says with a twinkle in her eye, &ldquo;it doesn&rsquo;t get very far.&rdquo;

&ldquo;Or it goes in my man-cave upstairs,&rdquo; he offers. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s all me, straight down the line. She walks by there on tiptoe.&rdquo;

&ldquo;On occasion I walk in and go, &lsquo;I could really do something in here,&rsquo;&rdquo; she says. &ldquo;And then I think, &lsquo;I need to be out of here.&rsquo;&rdquo;

In all seriousness, McCormick&rsquo;s willingness to accede to his wife&rsquo;s judgment has grown over the years, in part because his experience has taught him that her more experimental tastes and instincts (&ldquo;I definitely like things that are weirder,&rdquo; she says) are more on target than might be initially apparent. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m a little bull-headed,&rdquo; he admits. &ldquo;But Janis helps me see things that I would turn a blind eye to otherwise. I would be much more inward-looking, much more of an old fart about all this stuff if I weren&rsquo;t married to her. More often than not, what happens is that we&rsquo;ll get something that I&rsquo;m not crazy about, and then six months or a year later, I really love it. It grows on me.&rdquo;

One of the earliest examples of this was the piece Kanter fell in love with at Navy Pier all those years ago: a photo-collage by the Scottish artist David Mach of a Chicago River scene, which now hangs in their entrance hall with a small collection of Asian ceramics beneath a chandelier of Murano glass. McCormick&rsquo;s initial hesitation about the Mach piece was that it was so large, and as his wife says, &ldquo;Wall space is at a premium in this house.&rdquo;&nbsp;

That&rsquo;s true despite the fact that the house is a rangy 8,000 square feet. &ldquo;Some people with eclectic collections display them salon-style, but Tom and Janis don&rsquo;t do that,&rdquo; says Kate Lorenz, executive director at the Hyde Park Art Center and a longtime friend of the couple. &ldquo;They hang things with space around them, so everything kind of breathes.&rdquo;

___

Husband and wife came by their respective collecting knowledge and practices via distinctly different routes. McCormick, who studied printmaking at the University of Kansas, is a largely self-taught collector who began acquiring (and sometimes reselling) antiques, especially furniture, oriental rugs, paintings, prints, textiles and ceramics, as an undergraduate. &ldquo;If it&rsquo;s not nailed down, I&rsquo;ve probably bought and sold it,&rdquo; he says. &ldquo;I never did cars, but you never know.&rdquo; By 1992, when McCormick moved from Kansas City to Chicago and married Kanter, he had narrowed his business model to dealing in paintings, but continued to collect most of the other genres he had loved as a teenager.&nbsp;

She, on the other hand, had grown up surrounded by art as one of three children in a collecting family. Her parents, Chicago tax attorney Burton Kanter and his wife Naomi, began with little money (&ldquo;They used to frame pieces of wallpaper,&rdquo; their daughter recalls fondly) but, as their fortunes improved, collected work by local artists and, eventually, blue-chip pieces by some of the biggest names in the international art world. Eventually the senior Kanters amassed a collection of about 1,200 artworks.

But Burton Kanter in particular never lost interest in contemporary and local artists, often developing relationships with them that proved mutually beneficial. &ldquo;He was a patron,&rdquo; his daughter says. &ldquo;Artists would come to my dad and say, &lsquo;Hey, Burt, I really want to do this body of work for the next year. Is there a chance that you could support me for this amount of money, and you&rsquo;ll get the first six pieces of your choice?&rdquo; &nbsp;

After their father&rsquo;s death in 2001 at the age of 71, Kanter and her two brothers inherited the family collection, which they have since culled down to about 500 pieces. About a third of the McCormick-Kanter collection, displayed in their homes in Hyde Park and Sawyer, Mich.,&nbsp;

is from the Kanter family legacy, and includes pieces by Jackson Pollock, Franz Kline, Hans Hofmann and Andy Warhol, including ten works from Warhol&rsquo;s &ldquo;Myths&rdquo; series.&nbsp;

Another third features works by artists represented by the McCormick Gallery, including mid-century abstract expressionists such as the 92-year-old New York painter Mary Abbott, as well as Chicago artists such as Dawoud Bey, Roger Brown, Tony Fitzpatrick, Richard Hunt, Judy Ledgerwood, Laura Letinsky, Wesley Kimler and others.

The final third includes works jointly acquired by McCormick and Kanter, with the latter&rsquo;s taste&mdash;her special emphasis on large-scale photography, including a series of commissioned portraits of their daughters, Tatum and Reese&mdash;a bit more apparent. Several of these works were acquired at art fairs or through the Hyde Park Art Center, often as a result of Kanter&rsquo;s passionate and sometimes rather sudden attachments to them. &ldquo;She tends to be pretty sure about things very quickly,&rdquo; Lorenz says. &ldquo;Just the other day, a show was going up in one of our galleries and she was breezing through. By the time she got to the end of the hall, she had essentially bought something. We hadn&rsquo;t even put the price list down, but something shook her, and she was ready to add it to her collection.&rdquo;

McCormick is a more deliberative buyer and more attentive to the price of an artwork than his wife. But he is not without his own all but uncontrollable enthusiasms, including a passion for elegant Mexican serapes (McCormick has 40 of them in his man-cave, displayed on a rack system with hand-cranked dowels that he designed himself) and various artworks featuring dragons.&nbsp;

&ldquo;I&rsquo;m a dragon guy,&rdquo; he says helplessly, then recounts what happened one year at the Armory Show in New York, when he spotted a ceramic sculpture featuring the mythical creatures by the mid-career Chinese artist Li Lihong. McCormick had lusted after the piece since seeing it on the cover of Art + Auction magazine two weeks earlier; now, beholding it in the gleaming porcelain flesh, he could barely contain himself.&nbsp;

Within minutes he was on the phone to his wife, who calmly told him: &ldquo;Tom, just get it.&rdquo;

___

It&rsquo;s difficult to quantify the McCormick-Kanter collection, which consists of a core group of about 150 paintings, prints and photographs divided between their two homes, plus hundreds of other objects, including collections of textiles, antique oriental rugs, Italian art glass, Asian (especially Japanese and Chinese) ceramics, salt-and-pepper shakers, Mexican and Arts &amp; Crafts pottery, art furniture and a wide variety of sculpture. The remarkable thing about the works on display in Hyde Park is that despite the fact that they are arrayed in fairly close proximity and often grouped together in juxtaposed fashion, they cohere far more than they clash.

&ldquo;Janis has an eye for design, and the house itself is such a platform,&rdquo; Lorenz says. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s an amazing house that they&rsquo;ve refreshed and put a new palette on, and it holds art wonderfully. When you walk in and see an Andy Warhol next to a young photographer next to a ceramic pot, it all makes sense, because it&rsquo;s all held together by the house.&rdquo;

It&rsquo;s held together, too, by a couple who have assembled their collection the way they&rsquo;ve nurtured their marriage: by knowing when to bend and blend, when to stand firm, and when to tell each other to just get it.

*Publisher&#39;s update to the print edition:&nbsp;Artworks from the Kanter family collection are owned by Art Enterprises, Ltd.

Kevin Nance is a Chicago-based freelance writer and photographer. <a href="https://twitter.com/KevinNance1">Twitter @KevinNance1</a>