What is there to make of an aging artist suddenly deciding to subject himself to the deracinating indignity of moving abroad.
Such is the case of my good friend Currado Malaspina.
Noting that Asia is the undisputed locus of our century's zeitgeist not to mention the new major hub for the buying and selling of contemporary art, Currado has forsaken foie gras in favor of fresh lychee and wontons and has moved to suburban Hong Kong.
"It's only temporary," he assured me on the phone the other day, "I just want to be a bit closer to the global means of production."
Not that Currado has gone soft on social justice, it just makes economic sense to be nearer to where his newest work has been fabricated these past twelve years. Chinese artisans are so much more punctilious than their French counterparts with their 35 hour work week and their hallowed month of idle August. With the demand for Malaspina's Palimpseste drawings approaching pyretic levels frenzied speculation he has been forced to ramp up his production to entirely new levels.
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| Palimpseste #1011, Currado Malaspina, 2014 |
"I need to be more hands-on with the production of my work," he went on to explain, "even Rubens used to show up from time to time to touch up a nipple or an eyelid on one of his fabled portraits."
True enough and commendably diligent in this era of extra-territorial outsource.
The benefits are truly conspicuous.
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