Labor Class by Bernard Klevickas

The art fabrication business straddles an odd line between the inside/outside aspects of the art world. Some employees are unknown artists fresh out of art school and some are artists with some shows under their belt but not established, and there are some artists who have given up on their own work, then there are also many immigrant workers; all are underpaid.

Stella comes in with his poodles while sucking his thumb, Koons in a leather jacket puts on his glasses so he can see clearer, Otterness with his silver hair tied in a ponytail inspects the color as a patina is brushed onto one of his bronzes. A. Carter the investment banker arrives in a limousine to Q.C. his sculpture. Eric Fischl is seen in the corner examining a series of Tumbling Women. Renaldo finishes welding on a Kapoor piece so that he can leave early to go to court regarding his illegal immigration. I punch out (having come in early) so that I can focus on my own artpiece for a couple hours. It's not a ladder so much as individual cells in which one's effort does not propel one further up the hierarchy. There is little communication between artist and artisan other than the job at hand. I can't help but wonder at what point any crafted object there becomes fine art. It seems to occur when placed in the white box or fair booth of the prestigious gallery though it then quickly morphs from art into an expensive commodity.

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