We were in Mayfair, trying on things we couldn’t afford, staring at wealthy people, drinking champagne and eating smoked salmon blinis for late morning tea at the Connaught Hotel and generally having an extremely nice time, when we spotted a very large bright pink pavillion with two of my favourite words annointing it: ART and DESIGN.
I love an elegant stumble into something. I like to think of it as a signature move.
This is how we found ourselves at the Pavillion of Art & Design in London one fine Autumn day.
Frankly it should have been called “Everything that Jill wets herself over”. What an exquisite couple of hours we spent. This is the fifth year of the Fair, and the reviews say it’s perfectly curated this year. It travels New York, Paris and London and presents the wares of the top dealers in Modern Art and Mid Century furniture, with some primitive art and contemporary jewellery (from famous artists, because they can) thrown in as well.
I really did love it. Love it.
I was also fed greatly by the profound beauty of the European men – and the women – studding the displays. Immaculately presented, suave and so god damn sexy all of them. Much as I loved the art and the design it was, of course, the people I found most stimulating.
Two exquisite french men discussing a Warhol: “$520, 000 US. It is a very good price.” “I agree. A very good price”. “It will go at the fair”. “It will go”.
Sophisticated Jeremy Irons type talking with a Japanese investor while studying a provocative Helmet Newton nude, large format.”How Much?” “The sister of this work sold at auction two years ago for $1.2 million” . The Japanese investor’s eyes didn’t even narrow. Or maybe they did.
Hundreds of works of art for an afternoon. And some of them on the wall.