By Jessica Wade

Art Week came on the heels of Fashion Week and the clientele and game-makers' polish and verve were virtually indistinguishable. Both fashion and art are fast moving and expensive markets that call the elite their patrons and attract coiffed socialites, celebrities and party revilers that arrive to see and be seen. Lenny Kravitz was seated along the Marc Jacobs runway just days before he started negotiating for art work at Pulse and The Armory.

Word of a three-hour wait outside and in the rain at The Armory spread quickly through the galleries at Pulse, one of the competing art fairs in the original building that hosted the 1913 Armory, so I delayed my visit to the final hours of The Armory at Pier 94 on Monday. Collectors, not celebrities, are given top priority during Art Week and VIP status came with many perks at The Armory as plained by Ashok Pai, the connected man about town and my host who goes by Shoky. Would I like to socialize in the VIP lounge over a complimentary drink where I could arrange for a car service to take me to my next destination? I wanted to see the art and knew an hour was not nearly adequate to see everything so I declined all offers and felt $20 richer not having paid the entry fee. Art lovers and acquaintances of Ashok directed me toward the "best piece in the show" simply described as a garbage truck.

The Armory is what the art world refers to as a "Blue Chip" art fair meaning that the galleries and artists present are well known and established. The prices of the artwork reflect the renowned reputation of the artist and it is exciting to run into Damien Hirst's Judgment Day hanging on a modest sheetrock partition and ponder the physical act of collecting the hundreds of thousands of house flies piled onto the thickly layered canvas. The brown-black shimmer of the sculpted canvas is mesmerizing and demands a closer
look. What once appeared solid dissolves into tiny dots whose shimmering wings become recognized as the repulsive and common housefly who buzzes and annoys and begs a fly swatter as remedy. With the presence of so many flies I figured I must be close to that garbage truck.

When I happened upon the Social Mirror by Mierle Laderman Ukeles, the New York City Department of Sanitation's first and only "artist-in-residence," the polished garbage truck loomed over all booths and art around it. The rear loading compactor shimmered with mirrors that reflected the clients, spectators, artists and their art within its waste container. The Armory aisles were on display in the mirrors, which transformed the waste container into a three dimensional cinematic-like display of the "see and be seen" actions
of the fair's participants. The art world ego on display in the mirrors was complicated and humbled by the rear compactor's introduction of a large flat screen projecting Ukeles documentaries of NYC sanitation workers. The videos were viewable from artfully arranged seating making up The Armory's social space or rest stop at the center of the fair where cell phone conversations and people watching was de rigueur.

Unlike Pulse on Sunday where the fair ran overtime with free beer being carted down the aisles and last minute art sales, the end of The Armory on Monday was tired and slow. The carpet was literally pulled out from under us as we were forced toward the door by
maintenance workers pushing massive rolls of grey carpet. Paul Morris, co-founder of The Armory, mentioned as we left that the original 1913 Armory, from which the current Armory takes its name, was closed with a conga line through the aisles. I agreed that they should incorporate this tradition next year.

-Jessica Wade, fashion designer

j e s w a d e
313 w 14th st #2f
nyc ny 10014
www.jeswade.com

Photo courtesy David Willem