Seven Days in the Art World Read Online Free

owner of Christie’s and a leading collector, wields a double-edged sword in the art market. * When Pinault guarantees a work for Christie’s, he either makes money on the sale or, if it’s bought in, adds another piece to his collection. “François Pinault is my favorite collector,” confesses Ségalot. “He has a true passion for contemporary art and a unique instinct for masterworks. He understands quality. He has an incredible eye.” Building up the mystique of the collections on which you work is an essential part of a consultant’s job. Any piece of art acquired by Pinault receives the value-added stamp of his provenance. The artist is the most important origin of a work, but the hands through which it passes are essential to the way in which it accrues value. As a matter of course, everyone involved in the art market talks up the provenances with which he or she is affiliated.
    Pinault is one of twenty collectors that Ségalot and his partners work with on a regular basis. “The best situation in the art world—by far—is to be a collector,” explains Ségalot. “The second-best situation is ours. We have people acquire the works that we would buy ourselves if we could afford them. We live with the works for a couple of days or weeks, but eventually they go, and that is an enormous satisfaction. In some cases we are very jealous, but it is our job to marry the right work to the right collector.”
    How does Ségalot know when he has encountered the right work? “You feel something,” he says with fervor. “I never read about art. I’m not interested in the literature about art. I get all the art magazines, but I don’t read them. I don’t want to be influenced by the reviews. I look. I fill myself with images. It is not necessary to speak so much about art. I am convinced that a great work speaks for itself.” A faith in gut instinct is common to most collectors, consultants, and dealers, and they love to talk about it. However, it is rare to find an art professional willing to admit that he doesn’t read about art. It takes bravado. The vast majority of subscribers to art magazines do simply look at the pictures, and many collectors complain that art criticism, particularly that found in the dominant trade magazine, Artforum , is unreadable. Most consultants, however, pride themselves on their thorough research.
    People who buy at auction say that there is nothing like it: “Your heart beats faster. The adrenaline surges through you. Even the coolest buyers break out in a sweat.” If you bid in the room, you are part of the show, and if you buy, it’s a public victory. In auction-house parlance, you actually “win” works. Ségalot says he never gets nervous, but he does acknowledge a sense of sexual conquest: “Buying is very easy. It is much more difficult to resist the temptation to buy. You have to be selective and demanding, because buying is an extremely satisfying, macho act.”
    The psychology of buying is complex, if not perverse. Ségalot tells his clients, “The most expensive purchases—the purchases where you suffer the most—will turn out to be the best ones.” Whether it is because of the intense competition or the financial stretch, there is something irresistible about art that is hard to get. Like love, it fuels desire. “Give me a bid, but be prepared for me to exceed it,” Ségalot warns his clients. “I have created situations where I was anxious to speak to the collector after a sale because I had spent twice as much as agreed on major purchases.”
    I try to formulate a question about the correlation between making money as a consultant and overpaying for art. When consultants are on commission, they don’t earn anything unless they buy. When they’re on a retainer, no such conflict of interest gets in the way of the job. But as I struggle for the right words to broach this delicate subject, Ségalot looks at his watch. A flash of alarm crosses his face. He