I have updated my flickr account: http://www.flickr.com/photos/theuc/

Øystein Aasan (left) and Randi Thommessen at “la vitrine”, Paris.

This is the second part of our e-mail conversation, again, in slightly abbreviated form. For full text, please refer to: (→ link)

Why don’t you try and get us all excited about a specific artist or artwork from your collection?

This is difficult, as it is difficult to choose one artist or artwork, especially as I am as well a gallery owner, so then of course I also think as a gallerist and wishes to push my artists, so despite saying I try not to be pushy I will push one of my artists; Øystein Aasan (→ link), who just had a solo show opening at la Vitrine (→ link) in Paris. He is a really hard working dedicated artist, the first artist I invited into the gallery, I have known him since he was 19, as we went to foundation school together (my background is being an artist, with a bachelor in Fine Art from Central St Martins in London, I have however completely put to sleep the artist in me) so I have really followed his development as an artist, he has also introduced me to a lot of really great people within the art world as he moved to Berlin before he even finished his studies, and he has been a close friend of me since we first met. He is also the artist I have the most works of in my collection, as I bought works of him before he started selling through galleries and receiving scholarships, because I loved his work, but also to support him so that he could concentrate on his work.

One of those early works I bought of him is “Untitled (mirror) no1″ where he has cut a photograph of a young woman hanging up clothes to dry into rectangular squares and glued them into a grid on a board, with squares of mirror foil in between. When using this technique he spreads the image out, making it larger, but it also makes the viewer try to pin the image back together visually in order to get a sense of what the image is, it plays with proportions, details stays the same size, while other elements are enlarged, like a shirt in this image which is easily read in its expanded version, while the mirror foil takes in the surroundings and integrates it into the work. Øystein has continued working in this manner, but I have a few of his early grid works, which have a somewhat different character than his more recent grid works.

(…)

“Untitled (mirror) no1″

Can you give us three good reasons why becoming a collector is a bad idea?

It can be very expensive. And if you have a habit of impulse shopping, then this can be a financially hazardous addiction.

Space, as your collection grows, you need a place to keep the works. Preferably so that you can see the works on a daily basis, that means bigger flats or houses. Or you need to get a good storage space.

Collecting easily involves travelling to art fairs, biennials, openings etc., these events often involve a lot of partying and big amounts of champagne, thus an unhealthy lifestyle. On the other hand, travelling is so much more fun when you travel with a purpose.

Actually, there is only one reason why collecting is a bad idea, the expenses. But hopefully only the short term financial situation suffers, if you are a collector with a good flair, the value of your collection will rise quicker than the money you put into the collection. Then the question is, when the prices of an artist in your collection goes up; sell or not sell, or are you able to sell? Hopefully your income from your other activities will rise so that you can continue your habit without selling. The works you appreciate the most are likely to be the works whose value rises the most.

What’s the question you wanted me to ask, but I haven’t?

Why are women collectors and artists less noticeable than their male adversaries? Though I am glad you didn’t, as I do not have any good answers to the question.

Of course I would now like your answer or your thoughts about it and would extend it by adding: Why do you think men are more noticeable? And do you think it would be a good idea for women to be more noticeable or should the guys step back?

This is such a difficult question, and I regret I brought it to your attention. First, I do not think men should step back to give space for women, the issue is more complicated than that.

I think the reason for this unbalanced situation is mainly due to structural and historical reasons, besides women normally being the main carer for children. Having young children, especially if you have more than one child, makes it more difficult to travel to fairs, get around to do or see shows, and often a female artist with children seems to disappear for a while after they get children, which again can make it difficult to get back on the forefront of the art scene. The age one normally gets children is also the age when the career might be in its formative stage, when one is still considered young and emerging, all of this makes it difficult to combine a successful career with getting children, especially for women, men seem to get away with it more easily.

And then the majority of collectors are men, I guess partly because men still seem to earn more money than women in general, but I also think men are more likely to have a ‘collecting gene’, not only when it comes to art, it can be old weapons, cars, records, stamps. In my impression women are in general not often collectors in the same way as men can be, men more often want to own. However, I seem to be an exception to this, as I collect hats, shoes (perhaps not very unusual for women) and art.

I remember reading somewhere about women reading both male and female authors to the same extent, while men tend to prefer male authors. I think the same applies for art, men tend to be more interested in the issues male artists are concerned with, so then male artists are more likely to sell their work. And obviously, if one sells work as an artist, one can concentrate more on the studio practice, which again is the key issue for a successful career.

It does however seem to slowly change, more and more female artists are having successful careers. But there is still a long way to go before the art world gives men and women the same opportunities. It would be interesting to see how many successful male and female artists have children, how many have one child, or how many have several children.

Maybe it also has something to do with a craving for power on behalf of the male specimen? Visibility and publicity clearly is a form of power these days … we could discuss this topic at lenght, but this here blog might not be the appropriate arena.

To come to a conclusion somehow: Do you have a question for the next collector?

Why did you buy your first work of art?

Alas! The question I have tried to avoid to ask but that I was obviously interested in anyway! I was hoping that it comes up, and here it is. Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions during youir travels between Oslo/Miami/Paris!

Feel free to comment on this conversation in the comments or the discussion forum at Independent Collectors. Throw in some more questions, I will forward them to Randi every once in a while, if she doesn’t read and answer them automatically.

Picture credits: R. Thommessen

This is Part One of an abbreviated version of the interview. For the full text, please visit the discussion forum at Independent Collectors. (→ link)

Ane Mette Hol (NO) – beautifully made drawn reproductions of objects on paper (→ link).
Øystein Aasan (NO) – see the second part of the interview
Johan Thurfjell (SE) – often narrative works with a touch of sentimentality

Randi Thommessen and me at Art Rotterdam, 2009.

The first question I want to ask you is the one Christian Pfaff came up with in my last conversation:

If your house is on fire and you’ve rescued all the pictures, which one would you put back in the fire because you don’t like it but would want to have the insurance pay for it?

I can’t think of any work I would put back, or, rather the only work that came to my mind is not valuable enough for there being any point in putting it back, it is a painting of by a Norwegian painter, and since I bought it she has more or less disappeared and is forgotten, and what I have managed to find of images of her work shows she has become less and less interesting as an artist. I have a drawing of her as-well, which is the first art work I ever bought, and that I still really like. And actually this painting, it was not me who bought it, but my deceased father who got it as a present for me, though I picked it out myself. So for sentimental reasons, I would still keep it, even though it does no longer excite me.

Not for the fire.

Apart from that, putting a work back in order to get the insurance money, that would be insurance fraud.

This is a very politically correct answer, I’m sure your insurance company appreciates you sticking to the rules ;) And having lured you in on an entertaining question, here is a more serious subject: You are a collector but you also run a gallery, Lautom Contemporary (→ link). Which one came first, which will stay longer and how do you keep the two separated, if at all?

I bought my first art works about 15 years ago, but I would not say I started collecting until a few years back, as it was just a few one off occasions. I did however decide to start collecting art prior to deciding to start a gallery, as I discovered that a lot of art and artists that had really excited me 10 years before, were now successful and well established artists, I sensed that I might have a certain flair for contemporary art. But before I actually started adding to my then tiny collection, I had already decided to start a gallery.

So it’s a bit like the „chicken/egg“ dilemma, isn’t it? Do you also buy from yourself?

Obviously I buy art from my own gallery, but not only, and I see my private collection as separate of the gallery. When artists in my gallery have particularly good pieces, I do take these pieces with me to fairs or make them available for sale in the gallery, even though I really would like the work myself, it is important for the artist and for the gallery to show as good work as possible, I can’t just show the second best and keep the best pieces for myself, but then, if the work in question does not sell, I will not be too disappointed. (…)

And then the last part of the question: Which will stay longer? I hope they will both stay for a very long time. Though I hope to collect until I die, but stop as a gallerist a few years prior.

Untitled (Drawing for Floor), Ane Mette Hol, 2005

Being a collector, is running a gallery an advantage or a disadvantage? How do other collectors react when you hand them your card and they see that you’re a gallery owner as well? Does it put them off?

I can’t really see it being a disadvantage being both, except that you often have to first focus on selling art from your gallery, before you can go hunting for your own collection. On the other hand, you might get easier access to art works, and better prices if you buy from galleries you have a relationship with, and with time you do build relationships with other galleries, as colleagues.

I can’t say I have felt I have put collectors off by telling I am a gallery owner, but I am not a pushy gallerist. (…) When I meet people, I see them as individuals, not as collectors, gallery owners, politicians or other (…). If I communicate well with a person within the arts, then there is a chance we might like similar art and collaborate in some way, but it is up to the collector to check out if he likes what my gallery is showing, and come to me as a collector. (…) That is how I work, so I expect others to function that way too. (…)

Let’s turn to your collection again. Can you tell us a bit about it? Is it “about” something?

No, my collection is not about anything, I buy pieces I like, at least normally within my price range. I feel I buy quite different type of works, though I do see however as my collection is growing, that even though it is not intentional, there is a certain link between the works, and I guess that link is me, and who I am as a person.

If I were to look at your whole collection, taking my time, what do you think would the collection of works tell me about you?

Very difficult, as I am not good at talking about “Who I am”, but then who is?

I think I would seem rather schizophrenic; I have humor and can be quite playful, but I am also rather dry. I can be romantic, and a bit melancholic, but perhaps not very passionate. I have an intellectual strike. I like simplicity, but I am messy (I am not sure one can see this from the collection, but it is true) and I am not very colourful. Maybe I am a bit shy and not the one to search the center of attention, but I am not afraid to show myself.

I am not sure all of this is true about me, some of it I guess is quite to the point, but some of the descriptions I dare say are wrong. And maybe, if you Tommi, were to look at the whole collection, maybe you would find a completely different Randi than I did. So maybe you should look at what I show here at Independent collectors (which is not my whole collection), and tell me who you see?

This one backfired, didn’t it? I would agree on the non-colorful melancholy that manages to transport a certain sense of lightness and humor. Which is indeed a rather strange combination. Probably that’s why I picked you to have a conversation with … You also seem to take things not too serious, which I think is a very good thing and I believe this atmosphere is a basic building block of your collection. At least of the part that I can see.

(End of Part 1)

In the second part, Randi talks about an artists she really likes and I have asked her to give us three good reasons why becoming a collector is a very bad idea.

1. Visit at least 12 exhibitions in galleries.
2. Have all the art in my collection framed.
3. Get something (anything) nice by Trimpin.
4. Trade art (the remnants of the duel).
5. Don’t give a damn about rules.

I thought it would be a good idea to make up a few rules for my collecting next year but after I wrote “1.” I realized that this is probably the most boring thing to do at the end of the year.

But I couldn’t stop myself from writing until I started with “5.” – and this will be that.

PS: 2010 is such a great science-fiction date!

Early in 2009 I discovered the work of iri5 (aka Erika Iris Simmons -> link). I love the concept of her “Ghost in the Machine” series, where she takes cassette tapes (remember those, anyone?) by a certain artist to create a portrait of ouf that tape.

Here is an example of John Lennon, selected because of its landscape format, not because it’s my favourite, to be honest:

Have a look at her flickr set to see more examples (-> link). Ian Curtis from Joy Division is an awesome piece!

I contacted iri5 to ask her if she would be up for a collaboration.

We agreed that:

1. Since she doesn’t know me and has never seen a photo of me, she wouldn’t research me online.

2. I would write a few pieces and record them on cassette and then send her that tape (it turned out to be 17 minutes).

3. She would listen to that tape and, if she decided to go ahead with the project, to create a piece based only on my voice and the content of the pieces I had recorded.

Here is the result:

It arrived in a large box, filled with vintage book pages that corresponded to the pieces I had written, some where folded into small petals. And there was an amulet with a small scroll of paper with a writing of her own + a very beautiful, handwritten letter.

The portrait is created from the “data rich” tape, as iri5 put it, the unrecorded tape being left in the case (actually, it’s on the right).

Yes, the portrait doesn’t look very much like me, but that’s not the point. The point is that she only had my voice and language to go by. So it’s a portrait based on emotion & imagination, rather than on physiognomy. I believe that the memory of how people look gets transformed over time by what one feels for them or thinks of them.

I simply love this piece.

One visitor commented on Contemporary Istanbul: Concentrated Mediocricy. I can see their point. These two examples I just couldn’t resist posting, to illustrate the situation:

The picture below is not from a local art market, but from Contemporary Istanbul. Ramex Gallery from Kassel in Germany was exhibiting works by Mehmet Güler, an artist who is at the time of writing not even featured on their website, but listed on artfacts, if you want to have a look. Their booth had the feel of an art market in the village next to where I live, with stacks and stacks of paintings that all look alike.

I’m not saying this makes it low quality contemporary art (in fact, I think it is, anyway), but if you then have a whole table of prints made up like greeting cards (the only thing missing was a “Get well soon!” headline) it’s a downer … if that would be part of the concept … but look as I might, I couldn’t detect even a trace of a concept.

And then, around the corner, and forgive me if I don’t even want to make the effort finding out which gallery it was, they printed out the artist’s name in Comic Sans typefont on hand cut sheets of paper. I think it even was the only artist they featured …

Please forgive the low quality pictures but I didn’t dare enter the booths out of fear of being talked to …

Without wanting to sound cynical I still firmly believe that there is a BIG difference between contemporay art and works by artists who happen to be alive.

Some other thinghs a lot of the galleries could have done better in my humble opinion is the number of works on display. Some booths were so crowded with sculptures and other stuff I didn’t date enter, again, because I was afraid I’d knock the stuff over.

Let’s be positive: Contemporary Istanbul has a lot of potential. Just don’t mention taxes.

Very early in my collection days (so that’s like what, about a year ago?) I got the work “48.085″ by Rudolf Reiber, consisting of 49 drawings, showing the stellar constellations above the artist’s roof window, as recorded in black ink on white paper in 49 nights.

A highly inaccurate method, reminiscent of the good old days when guys like Keppler were having a go at that sort of thing. Also reminiscent of the desire of man to “count the stars in the sky”. Also very appropriate to accompany my collection of Science Fiction literature …

It was now on loan for a show at the Hospitalhof in Stuttgart in Germany – and I missed it. Maybe the effect wears off after your third loan or so, but I’m really sad I couldn’t make it. Anyway, here is a picture, provided by Rudolf just a few minutes ago, and I had to share it:

And I love the way the 49 drawings (hung in 7 x 7) are streched across that corner! This just might be a way how I can fit them in my appartment in Ulm after I have moved! I will measure those walls on the weekend …

I love it when I see a work of art that grabs my attention, as it happened with the following works by Oliver Scharfbier (seen at the Zone B booth at Contemporary Istanbul, as mentioned before):

Visually attractive, maybe a trifle decorative at first sight. So what. I then bought a surprise art bag from them, which includes one of his works. And out comes nothing like I have seen before, but a work that deals with words and language and that is self-referential in a way I can appreciate.

This piece is #2 of a multiple of 15 pieces by Oliver, especially made for this “kunst-tüte” edition. Each has been made individually and each is slightly different (I guess, not having seen the others).

The text says: “Auch immer das gleiche ist nie das selbe.” (Even more of the same is never exactly the same.)

Maybe not very deep or world changing, but I can put that sentence into a very nice relation to other works of art I own and even things I do myself, so I’m expecting this piece to last for quite a while. (Actually, I should maybe create an exhibition at Independent Collectors titled “True Zen Sayings” … )

OK. Off to a dinner now … ;)

My first day in Istanbul led me through a customs-couple searching what little luggage I had at Stuttgart airport, an almost empty (40 passengers) Airbus of Turkish Airlines whose inside panelling was making squeekie noises and a limousine ride through maniac traffic to what must be one of the poshest hotels I have ever been to.

I expected Istanbul to be different than most places I have visited in recent years, but when I looked out my window and saw this dude standing at the edge of the roof with his shopping bag, I had proof of my theory.

Off to the artfair (-> link) where I was greeted by a busy but nevertheless charming Jasmine who gave me my luxurious VIP package. I met one of the IC members who was attending, spoke to Fiza Akram from Canvas (-> link) and naturally I had a look at the art.

I could jump to a preliminary, not too charming conclusion, but I will have look again today and report back with pictures. I have seen at least 4 or five things that made me go back and in the special “Berlin section” of the Fair, I overheard the guys from “Zone B” (-> link) talk about their “Kunst-Tüte”.

I went back later and talked to them about it. It’s a series of surprise bags, each featuring one item of a 15 strong multiple by an artist from their gallery. The only thing you know, when you buy it, is the artist and the price: EUR 80.-

I bought one with a work by Oliver Scharfbier (-> link), whose name sounds like a drink I would like to try, and whose black/white/red “paintings” on display at their booth had caught my eye earlier (images will follow).

So here is the “Kunst-Tüte” in the hotel armchair. I will open it tonight …

I haven’t heard about their gallery or the artist before but I like the idea of buying something, not exactly knowing what it might be. True, it might not be the most original idea on the planet, but in the environment of Contemporary Istanbul last night it was the one thing that grabbed my attention in it’s lightness.

“Pleased to meet you … ” is a series of conversations I have with other collectors and members of Independent Collectors. These conversations happen via e-mail, skype, phone or in real life and will therefore be a bit different each time. A new conversation will be published every month.

The first conversation was conducted by e-mail with Christian Pfaff from Hamburg, who has spent over 86% of his life as a collector already … and he is just 44 years old at the time of writing!

“To administrate an addiction is not a style.”


Hallo Herr Pfaff, where are you right now?

At the moment I’m sitting on a roof terrace in Kathmandu, Nepal, thinking about my soon ending six months time-out and the return to Hamburg. Every 5 or 6 six years my wife and me use a time of a half year minimum just to recharge and enjoy.

This sounds like a good plan. Has anything shown up on your “art radar” in the places you’ve visited this time? In contrast to your usual dwelling place Hamburg?

Since my travel brought me from Canada and Alaska to Nepal and Thailand, I had the opportunity to meet some artists and visit galleries. I accidentally found a very interesting gallery in Ottawa, Canada, called “Le Petit Mort” (→ link) which is showing contemporary local works not specified in any media. The owner Guy Berube does a fine job bringing an exotic variety of artists together. However, I liked the paperworks of the young upcoming Ottawa artist Graham Robinson who creates lots of his sculptural artworks with cardboard. I bought three of his recent works.

“I don’t buy shares from a soccer club, I’m in for the games!”

I’d be scared to have the works sent to me by mail from Canada. In fact, I even worry when they’re shipped within Germany… aren’t you afraid something could happen to them?

I travel as often as it is possible and of course I’m always looking for art related places and buy art there. Shipping this works sometimes can be really funny and most ends up at the main customs office in Hamburg. I recall receiving a big work on canvas from Asia without receipt. The officers were more interested in the old movie posters I had put in the package to stuff the thing. I’m still waiting for the fragile cardboard works from Canada. So far no sign that they’ve reached anywhere. I’ll pray for a while.

While we keep our fingers crossed that they will arrive unharmed, could you tell us about your style of collecting: Charles Saatchi or Ronnie Biggs?

My style of collecting isn’t either methodical or going for the big catch. Coming from a family with creatively gifted but also neurotic personalities, art always was part of my daily life. My aunts collected reliquaries from catholic saints or created costumes. One even studied with Wilhelm Baumeister. My cousins faked antique furniture or made stamps from little newspaper classified ads. One family member ended up in jail for the forgery of train tickets in the post WW2-time. It’s no wonder that I started collecting art (and doing art by myself) very early. But my access to the art world is a very direct one: I collect what I like. I don’t care for big names or the show. I appreciate the whole picture, meaning I like to meet the artist, I like to know more about his works, his opinions and about him- or herself. Investment and stockbrokership is definitely not my cup of tea. It never was. And even now with a nice little collection the thrill doesn’t come from the gain of worth of the one or the other piece, but the story every picture tells. Back to the question: I was never a strategic collector in the way Saatchi did it. This way of administrating an addiction is not my style. The Biggs Thing – preparing for the one and only chance – is neither my approach. Why wait for only one artist or even one work?

“Does the work evoke feelings, does the artist? That’s what we are talking about.”

Since you mention thrill, I just cut in here quickly, if I may. The thrill in collecting, how much of it is coming from the nightly walks you take around town, when you are armed with … well, what are you armed with? I heard some interesting stories about that from you in Berlin a while back.

The thrill about collecting is not about buying, even if i must confess that it gives me sometimes a kick to see the red dot. I like good concepts, interesting ideas, craftsmanship and most important a authentic attitude from the artist or the work. I like humor in this sometimes so bureaucratic and stiff intellectual scene. Off course there’s also a „hunting part“. Walk through studios, art spaces – looking for a good catch, looking for an eye-opener or even for a good laugh. I appreciate that very much. Since i’m also in interested in the off-side like street-arts i sometimes stroll at night through the streets looking for the newest, coolest stickers, tiles, tags and whatever – try to scratch, cut or peel them of or find out what the next big thing of 56K or other guerrilla artists is. I can remember doing it by myself ages ago, so it’s both, fun and thrill…

You seem to rather not talk about the saw (or do I just think you mentioned a saw?), so let’s talk about some of your favorite artists from your collection… name three:

4000 (Thomas Egeler), Hamburg, Germany – unbelievable
Christian Junghanns, Hannover, Germany – my pop art revolutionary
Andy Warhol, still – I love the shoe drawings he did in the NY Times


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… PART 2 can be found in the Independent Collectors discussion forum, where you’ll find out why Pfaff is collecting “4000″ instead of Jonathan Meese, how the glamorous part of the art world compares to his own, what the question was that I haven’t asked him, and some more.

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And since I don’t want to leave you with such a stub, here is PART 3 of the interview …

Talking about personal and emotional attachment to artworks … Imagine your house is on fire and you can rescue just one piece from your collection. Which one and why?

The question which piece of art I would rescue from my collection in case of the big fire somehow reminds me of that long unnerving trial I had to undergo to be allowed to do the social service instead of the military duty: “Would you shoot a terrorist who’s trying to kill all kids in a kinder garden?”. Usually it’s not about the final answer but about the way you got to it … It’s really hard to decide: the Picasso or the first drawing of my son? More than about every single artwork I think about my diverse collection as a whole. Still, there’s one work I really appreciated for the last twenty years or so. It is a small still life by 4000. That little piece of shitty wood was just perfectly right at the time it was painted. It shows simple things: a bottle, an apple,a table, a small book, no more no less – acrylic, black and white. The splintered piece was given to me by the artist in a melodramatic situation at an early grey Hamburg morning after a furious opening. It’s an artwork perfectly made for me. I changed the hangings in my house constantly for the last decades. The still life stayed.

I could keep this going but I have been intruding in your holiday long enough … to finish off, do you have a question for the next collector?

If your house is on fire and you’ve rescued all the pictures, which one would you put back in the fire because you don’t like it but would want to have the insurance pay for it?


This is a great question!Thank you Christian for your time, your stories and your pictures!


Feel free to comment on this conversation in the comments or the discussion forum at Independent Collectors. Throw in some more questions, I will forward them to Christian every once in a while, if he doesn’t read and answer them automatically.

Picture credits: lottegandaki