So you want to be the next Jeff Koons?


September is here again. I’ll get back to the serious stuff, but my holiday email backlog is getting in the way. I keep getting junk mail offering me online art services. I pass this one on, with the kind thought that – if there is anyone out there who still wants to be the next Jeff Koons, Damien Hirst, or Takashi Murakami – this might be the next logical step in the production line factory model, if not the next chapter in art history. Maybe they have a similar service for art writers?

Dear Sir and madam
Allow me to introduce ourselves: We are the Oil Painting Studio. We would like to offer our painting and giclee prints services to you. In our studio we have 30 highly skilled professional artists with over 12 years ofexperience creating paintings for our international clientele. We have worked creatively worldwide with a large number of commercial enterprises, professional artists and galleries in Europe and America. They all praise our professional high quality of production and artistic workmanship. Many of our clients use our works for their business and art displays...We safely and professionally pack and ship your paintings through FedEx or DHL. Please send us an email today describing what is your desired topic to be painted, and some indication of the approximate size. In return we will send you a pricelist. The Shipping cost is based on your location and the size and dimensions of the painting or paintings required. I hope that we will have a chance to cooperation and be good friends!
We are Looking forward to hearing from you.

Best Regards
The Oil Painting Studio

Jeff K., meanwhile, is everywhere. He is like the Walt Disney of contemporary art. The king of one size fits all 1980s postmodern kitsch is still getting away with it, still wildly popular with nouveau riche Russian oligarchs and French luxury goods moguls who fancy themselves as Louis Quartorze. Amazing. I caught his much discussed Versailles show in Paris last summer, and I suppose the funniest thing was how, amidst all the priceless 17th century art and rococo home decoration, it was Koons’ daft sculptures that were being protected behind thick plastic boxing and laser censors (actually, it ruined the works). I would have thought that they were totally non-stick and untouchable, no matter how much critical vomit or bile someone might want to throw at them.

He is now at the Serpentine in London, and there’s loads more to come in a big show about art and branding (“Pop Life”) this autumn at the Tate Modern, with Murakami too, of course, as well. I had Koons' ear to ear grin all over my Financial Times last weekend, talking the same inane drivel about his happy, shiny art, and why inflatable lobsters are so good for the soul. The quote “most expensive living artist”™ unquote was in a good mood, as always. Wow. It’s all so now and cutting edge, I’m surprised it hasn’t been booked for Roppongi Hills in 2015 or 16. That’s one place where steel inflatables, puppy dog flowers and well pressed stockbroker suits will always look good, no matter how long the bubble has been burst.







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