#placing my bets on 'artist in exile' title

[autistme]

DYSPHORIA HOODIE ENJOYERS REJOICE

[kickingitwithkirk]

Beyond Seduction

Summary: Isobella Tennant wants her independence but society dictates she must conform to their ways. Sam Winchester is the most sought after artist in London and one of its most notorious rakes. He also has a secret he’s kept hidden. They come together with their own agendas and find something more than either expected.

Pairing: Artist!Sam Winchester x Isobella Tennant

Word Count: 3137

Warnings: Cursing, appearance shaming, low self esteem, dominating mother, attempted abduction and assault

A/N: for #OC Apprecation Day 2020 #OC’s are People Too

A/N II: Few months ago I came across a stash of old romance novels I’ve had for umpteen years when I had this idea for a series with Sam Winchester. I had been playing with for a while, getting nowhere, and one evening I was watching Thomas Kinkade’s Christmas Cottage with Jared Padalecki and viola Artist!Sam.    Not an original title but I liked the sound of it.

Part II Masterlist

*no beta, all mistakes are mine

London 1875

December 21

“Your daughter will marry my son by lent.” Arthur Ketch forcefully stated as he stood in front of the drawing room window.

“Of course Isobella will marry Ernest, but it’s impossible to do it that soon,” Lavinia Tennant, the Duchess of Monmouth huffed out, running her hand down the over skirt of her terre D'Egypte dress trying to hide nervousness running through her, “but she is the only daughter of the Duke of Monmouth, it will take at least a year to plan once the bannes have been read.”

“I have given you too much leeway already Lavi and will not have my son wait any longer,” Ketch said calmly, calling her the beloved nickname her husband gave her on their wedding night. Walking over and reaching out to stroke her cheek, watching with satisfaction as she trembled when he grabbed her arm instead, “or I will go to your husband about us.”

It wasn’t the first time he had inferred he would do it but there was something more in his tone this time.

Ketch’s roughness had been exciting, eliciting intense pleasures she had never felt and had come to crave. He was a far cry from her husband, who possessed a loving countenance and even temperament.

She couldn’t initially understand why Ketch hadn’t been accepted by their society. He was intelligent, charming and a Baron after all, even if the title had been bought by his father, who had been in the coal trade.

It was when she tried to end their affair his true intentions surfaced. Ketch had pursued her for the political advancement of his only son Ernest, who worked for Lavinia’s husband in Parliament.

Ketch planned to make his son Prime Minister of England and the Duke of Monmouth’s connections were his ticket. Blackmailing the duchess into forcing her only daughter Isobella to marry Ernest would solidify his position in society.

“I’ve instructed Ernest to propose again at your party in two weeks and she better not refuse him this time, you’ll make sure of that I have no doubt.” Ketch’s menacing tone said it all, he would follow through on his threat this time.

New Years Eve

“I hear he is indeed very talented,” Alexandra Pembrook informs her companion as they strolled into the library, stopping in front of the newly unveiled portrait of David Tennant, the Duke of Monmouth, “and not just as a painter according to Lady Vance.”

Isobella Tennant looked at her friend raising an eyebrow, “Since when do you listen to the idol gossip of Beatrice Vance? I thought you two weren’t speaking.”

“That juicy tidbit came by way of her ladies maid. Apparently, she overheard Beatrice telling Lady Lucas how her husband came home unexpectedly and almost caught them In flagrante delicto.”

“This is why I’m happy that I got Katie, she would never gossip about any goings on in this household.” Isobella firmly stated.

Katie had been her mother’s governess before becoming hers and then ladies maid after she was presented in society. Katie moved slower with age and hard of hearing so if anything scandalous was said in her presence, she’d never hear it anyways.

“I also heard he spent three months pursuing Lady De Burgh,” Isobella squinted slightly, trying to place the woman, “you know, Queen Victoria’s newest lady-in-waiting. Palace gossip is that he likes to savor his quarry like delicate morsels, bit by bit.”  She licked her lips in emphasis, “Too bad he didn’t see you when he was here, I’d bet my new phaeton he would’ve been more than up for the challenge of obtaining you.”

“Lexi!” Isobella gasped, using her best friend since they were both in pram’s nickname, trying to sound scandalized at the implication but grinned at her knowing the notorious Sam Winchester, who she only saw briefly once while her father was sitting for him, wouldn’t have noticed her even if he sat on her.

She did not possess the in favor looks like Lexi; golden blond hair, cornflower blue eyes and envious curves that were enhanced by the fashions of the day, that seemed to tempt him judging by his preferred quarry.

Isobella or Izzy, as everyone but her mother called her, had inherited her grandmother Tennant’s shock of long, thick, unruly copper gold hair, as did her four brothers, who at least had the fortune of being able to keep theirs shorn short, and pale skin covered in cinnamon freckles for days. What couldn’t be overlooked by anyone was, like her brothers, she was tall.

So tall in fact, she stood at least half a head and, in some cases, a full head taller than most of the men in their acquaintance. Her only redeeming qualities, according to her mother, was her title of Lady Tennant and the inheritance that came with it.

Despite being the plainest deb to enter society in years when she was eighteen, Isobella had a line of suitors and was greatly admired for her kindness, quick wit, and intelligence, especially in debate, having learned the skill at her father’s knee.

Now her admirers had drastically fallen away. It seemed what was admired in the girl wouldn’t be tolerated in the woman.

Isabella’s options were dwindling as she was no longer a blossoming flower in society, being just a few months away from turning twenty three.  

“Lexi, what kind of scandal could I get into, it’s not like I’ve got suitors beating down my door anymore.”

Lexi looked fondly at her best friend. She didn’t understand what had happened to all of Izzy’s admirers either. Her place in society and her illustrious title as the only daughter of the Duke of Monmouth had drawn a lot of the lesser ranking gentleman showing interest but she knew her friend well enough that their status wouldn’t matter to her if they actually loved her.

“You know Ernest is planning on asking again tonight.”

“You know I will decline again.”

“I can’t understand why you keep turning him down Izzy. He is dependable, would give you everything…”

“You know I love Ernest like a brother but there is no way we could make a go of it. He is too placid and I’m…”

“A damn handful, especially when that hard head of yours gets an idea. I didn’t love Pembrook when I agreed to marry him but now…I can’t imagine my life without him.”

“What I want is a man who will love me as is, let me be myself, not expect me to change for the sake of their ego.”

January 10

“Isobella Tennant, tell me that what I heard is not true!” Lavinia yelled as she swept into the breakfast nook.

Izzy and her father both looked up at the overwrought duchess. “Heard what mother?”

“That you were seen racing Ambrose Murdoch on the commons in a pair of breeches!”

“He said Boudicia couldn’t be as quick as his hunter being a mare…”

“And you were riding astride like some common…”

“… I wasn’t gonna let him get away with insulting my horse!”

“Horses, horses, horses! That’s all you think about! It’s time you stop messing with those animals and start breeding my next grandchild!”

“Lavinia! Don’t speak to our daughter that way.”

“David, I need to speak to you privately.” The duchess replied through her clenched teeth.

***

“Our daughter has turned down Ernest again, he is her last chance of getting married and it’s time you put your foot down and insist on her accepting him.” The Duke opened his mouth to say something, “No David, no more excuses. I know she is your favorite for some unfathomable reason and you’ve coddled her for far to long. She is not a fresh candidate anymore and with her plain looks and stubbornness finding another man to marry her…”

The Duke sighed as she droned on about Izzy turning out to be such a disappointment, too strong willed and independent for a woman, saddened that his wife had such a low opinion of their only daughter.

Isobella had always marched to her own beat, which was completely out of tune with her mother’s, long ago learning how to appease her vanity when it became apparent Izzy would not be the beauty her mother had been in her day.

Lavinia Emerson had been the most sought after debutante of her day, possessing luxurious blond locks, chocolate brown eyes and acres of creamy skin encasing a figure that, even after bearing five children, still turned heads.

When she accepted his proposal, David Tennant was under no illusion it was for anything other than for his title as the future Duke of Monmouth. But over the years she had come to love him and they had a good marriage, raising four fine son’s, all married with families of their own except Richard, the youngest at nineteen.

And yes, Izzy was his favorite, not because she was the only girl but she reminded him of his mother, she had that same free spirit but hadn’t above changing her ways for the sake of her family, as he was sure Izzy would once she was married.

“We’ve discussed this before and it’s time to tell her.”

As much as he hated to admit it, she was right, if she didn’t accept Ernest, who was an upstanding gentleman despite who his father was; Isobella would end up either alone, being exiled to the edge of good society and tainting her brother’s families or forced to marry anyone who would be willing to take her at her age.

Two nights later

Izzy stared out the large window still unable to comprehend the ultimatum her parents had given her.

Marry Ernest or loose Katie, her horses, and her freedom.

Her father knew what it would do to her under this virtual house arrest, to be at her mother’s by your leave and constant verbal assaults.

It would’ve been kinder to send her to a nunnery.

She thought about her visit to Lexi earlier that day.

“What choice do you have Izzy, you have to marry Ernest, you’d lose your sanity if your mother takes over complete control of your life.”

“If I’m gonna consider giving up my life, there’s one last thing I want to do and you’re going with me.”

Lexi sat up, “One last prank?”

Changing into the god awful orange servants dress she had wriggled from Lexi, Izzy ran down the servants staircase and out their entrance at the back of the house and hailed a hack to take her to Lexi’s and then the music hall.

Izzy walked hurriedly along the quiet streets after the variety shows had let out. She had been unable to find another hack after Lexi left for home so she was forced to start walking. It wasn’t the safest thing for anyone to do at night, especially an unaccompanied woman.

She was almost to the back gate of the grounds when she was grabbed by a man hiding in the shadows.

~~~

Sam Winchester pushed his hands deeper into his coat pockets, not actually cold from the night air turning chilly but disconsolate; it was his periodic companion. This last eighteen months all he had produced was portraits of London’s elite citizens, nothing inspiring him to create anything original, which gave him his fame in the first place.

He had decided to walk for a bit after leaving the Duke of Monmouth’s having repaired the loose corner of the frame around the portrait of said man. He liked the Duke, he possessed a sarcastic humor and  was personable.

For a Tory.

Sam was halfway along the high wall surrounding the vast estate when he heard a rough voice hissing in the shadows, “Stop struggling bitch or I’ll give it to you far worse.”

He ran to the end of the wall remembering there was an alleyway leading to a back entrance. Pausing at the opening he was thankful a gas light was nearby illuminating a burly man struggling to hang onto a woman in a hideous orange dress who was putting up one hell of a fight to get away.

“Hey, let her go!” Sam shouted, rushing towards them.

“Fuck off, this ones mine!” He yelled, shoving her to the ground.

Sam swung his large fist smashing into the stranger’s face. He grabbed his bloody nose for a monument and then threw a surprise right hook making contact with Sam’s left temple briefly stunning him and making his getaway.

“Bastard,” Sam spit out, rubbing his head knowing he’d probably have a headache later. He turned to the woman on the ground. She had drawn her legs up, arms wrapped around her legs shaking.

“Are you alright?” He asked as he stepped towards her causing her to start crawling backwards away from him till she bumped into the wall.

Sam squatted down in front of her, holding his hands out in a peaceful gesture and spoke softly to her, “ I’m not gonna hurt you Miss, I want to make sure you’re not hurt, can you nod if you understand me.”

She nodded once, finally looking up from the ground at him.

Sam’s breath caught.

Even under the dim gas light he could make out her unique features and felt that particular skittering under his skin urging him to grab a brush and create like he hadn’t in a very long time.

“I’m Sam Winchester,” standing up he holds out his right hand to her.

“Is..Izzy Morgan.” She replies, taking his outstretched hand. A sensation rippled throughout her in a way she never had with any man, not even with Lord Greyson.

He was the only man Izzy had freely offered herself to and had rejected her in a not so polite manner, publicly gossiping about her attempted seduction of him. It was quickly quashed by her brothers paying him a brief visit.

Sam released her hand, staring intently as he lightly ran his long fingers along her jaw, tracing the contours of; her forehead, curved cheekbones, full lips and nondescript nose, fascinated with the freckles he could just make out in the dim, scattered on her soft skin.

If only it wasn’t so dark to make out the color of her eyes but that hair, absolutely wondrous! He dropped his hand and picked up the tendrils that had come loose running them between his fingers fascinated that it was silky, not wiry, with its kinkiness as he assumed.

She was plain and exquisite at the same time.

“I would love to paint you if you’ll allow me,” she scrunched her forehead confused, “could you ask your employer for time off?”

“You want to paint me, why?”

Sam dropped the hand still playing with her hair and pulled from his coat pocket his card to show he was serious.

“I will pay you generously for your time. If you like I can speak..”

“No! I’m sorry but it’s impossible,” Izzy hurried to the gate and opened it, “thank you for helping me, I am grateful..”

“Then repay it by posing for me.” Sam deepens his whiskey-honeyed voice and watches as she shivered, reacting to it as he hoped.

“I’m sorry but I can’t.”

~~~

Izzy awoke late the next morning exhausted from her previous night’s adventures. She shuddered feeling the bruises acquired during the struggle with her would be rapist.

The door to her bedroom opened and a younger woman she didn’t recognize entered carrying a tray of tea and a light breakfast.

“Good morning my lady, I wasn’t sure what you would like so I bought a few things. Please let me know what you prefer.”

“Who are you and where is Katie?”

“I’m Margaret, your mother engaged me to be your ladies maid. I was informed that Katie decided to leave and be with her sister in Brighton, my lady.”

“Please take the tray, I only have tea in the mornings and pull out my dark brown riding habit. I’ll dress myself today and will be gone till dinner, thank you.” Isobella instructed, heading into her bath and waited for the maid to leave. After she departed Izzy threw on her outfit and hurried to the stable, saddling the first horse there and took off to Lexi’s for a confab about what to do next.

January 19

Her fingers shook nervously as she buttoned up the servants dress she had borrowed from Lexi again. From the trunk she pulled out the big overcoat and long scarf that used to belong to Phillip, her oldest brother. He had given them to her years ago when the family was in Scotland and hers had proven inadequate for riding in the climate there. Opening a small drawer she removed her old, worn riding gloves and slipped them on. She closed the trunk and locked it.

Making her way up the exterior stairs to the street Isobella locked the door leading to the cellar of Lexi’s home and walked to the hired hack waiting for her, instructing the driver to her final destination.

As the carriage travels over the cobblestone streets Isobella goes over the plan one more time to make sure nothing was missed.

Lexi had suggested she should come with her to Wales while her husband sorted out the details from his father’s sudden passing making him the new Lord of Whitmore. That sparked an idea in Izzy’s mind and they set about laying out the details to pull it off.

Isobella knew her parents, or rather her father, wouldn’t object to her traveling with her best friend to give her some time to consider Ernest’s proposal; with a slight hint that she was inclined to accept upon returning.

What none of them knew was she had her own plan in place and it was to be the scandal of the decade.

The hack dropped her off at the end of the quiet street and she walked briskly towards the address on the card.

~~~

Sam came downstairs in no better mood than he had been when his butler Crowley had awoken him late in the afternoon. At least he was dressed. Well, as dressed as he was willing to get in a clean shirt, trousers and no shoes. He had an odd exchange with the new boy Crowley had engaged to help since he was, according to Crowley, seriously understaffed with the size of his household. Sam laughed considering it was only him, Crowley, Mrs. Mills the cook and a maid.

The new boy had scurried off the fetch more coal as the door knocker sounded. Sam opened it and was stunned to see who was standing there.

“Are you still interested in painting me?”

tbc

If your interested in a tag shoot me an ask

tagging: @atc74 @alleiradayne

[caveartfair]

The 9 Best Booths at Independent Brussels

For the second year, Independent Brussels spreads across six floors of Brussels’s historic Vanderborght building this week, dotting the former 1930s department store’s modernist walls with tightly curated exhibitions. And like its New York counterpart, which this March hosted a second run at its glossy new Tribeca home, Spring Studios, this year, Independent Brussels truly spreads its wings.

Thanks to Independent’s year-round presence in Europe’s capital via the exhibition space it opened in 2016, Independent Régence, it has now cultivated a loyal following in the city. This, in addition to the fact that the fair’s inaugural edition last year took place shortly after the tragic March 22nd terror attacks at Brussels’s airport, led to a marked increase in attendance on opening day.

“Last year there were a lot of new elements; a new city, a new fair, we had the attacks four weeks before we opened,” said executive director Laura Mitterrand during the VIP preview. “It was really a fantastic edition,” she added, “but it was also a difficult time for everyone. This year feels very different.”

Over 70 galleries and nonprofits, from 32 cities, participate in Independent Brussels’s 2017 edition. Among them are returning blue-chip galleries, like Barbara Gladstone and David Zwirner, whose Marcel Dzama-curated stand arguably steals the show. Notable newcomers include Sprüth Magers, Capitain Petzel, and Mendes Wood DM, which opened a Brussels outpost in the city earlier this week, adding to locations in São Paulo and New York.

“Galleries are getting more and more excited about what they can do here, and making statements that they wouldn’t be making at other fairs or in other cities,” said Mitterrand. “It’s bringing [the fair] to a new level.”

Nine of those participating have transformed their booths into full-scale exhibitions, taking the fair to a new level indeed.

David Zwirner

First Floor, Booth 11

With works by Marcel Dzama, Mamma Andersson, Aline Kominsky-Crumb and R. Crumb, Stan Douglas, Marlene Dumas, Marcel Dzama and Raymond Pettibon, Isa Genzken, Sherrie Levine, Jockum Nordström, Raymond Pettibon, Al Taylor, Wolfgang Tillmans, Lisa Yuskavage and Jordan Wolfson, Hans Accola, David Altmejd, Peter Doig, Thomas Dozol, Mandy El-Sayegh, James Ensor, Kendall Geers, Douglas Gordon, Young Sun Han, Marcel Mariën, Paul McCarthy, Marilyn Minter, Cindy Sherman, John Stezaker, Rose Wylie

Installation view of David Zwirner’s booth at Independent Brussels, 2017. Courtesy of Independent Brussels.

Guises of every ilk fill David Zwirner’s stand, where Marcel Dzama, the art world’s master of puppetry and masquerade, has curated a booth around the theme of the mask. Titled “The Mask Makers,” it draws from Dzama’s long history with the motif, which began in the mid-’90s and culminates in the elaborate fairy-tale costumes he designed for the New York City Ballet’s dancers last spring.

The affinity dates back much further, said Dzama, standing in the booth. “The earliest memory I can think of was when my grandmother bought me this Greek theater mask in Hawaii, that you could turn around to be happy or sad,” he said. Dzama was six years old at the time.

This particular presentation was inspired by 19th-century Belgian painter James Ensor’s Christ’s Entry into Brussels in 1889 (1888), which sees a sinister, encroaching mob populated by masks and caricatures. At Independent Brussels, Dzama’s own menagerie gathers work by nearly 30 artists—from frequent collaborator Raymond Pettibon to Jordan Wolfson to Cindy Sherman. Among the strongest are a penetrating portrait of a face-painted model by Wolfgang Tillmans, Eleanor / Lutz, portrait, (2016), and, a personal favorite of Dzama, a hand-colored print by Ensor himself.

Peres Projects

Ground Floor, Booth 3

With works by Austin Lee, Donna Huanca and Gabonese sculptures

Installation view of Peres Project’s booth at Independent Brussels, 2017. Courtesy of Peres Projects.

A 19th-century horned mask helmet from the Fang or Bulu people of Gabon and a Fang figure are not typical among Independent Brussels’s offerings, which skew decidedly towards contemporary art produced in the 21st century. The sculptures are nestled amongst the work of emerging artists Donna Huanca and Austin Lee at Peres Projects’s booth, which range in price from $20,000–$25,000.

The presentation, in part, taps into Belgium’s long-standing as a center for antiquity and classic African art. But it also pulls from Javier Peres’s own passion for tribal art, and is an effort to connect these young artists to the wider art-historical backdrop in which they operate.

“A lot of people who are making work today looking at modernism don’t look at that extra step to classic African art,” said gallery partner Nick Koenigsknecht. The gallery’s past two summer shows have addressed this topic, pairing classic African art with abstraction or figuration. Koenigsknecht said the juxtaposition between Lee’s figuration and the mask, which hangs to its right, “gives me goosebumps.”

Mendes Wood DM

First Floor, Booth 10

With works by Runo Lagomarsino

Installation view of Mendes Wood DM’s booth at Independent Brussels, 2017. Photo by Renato Ghiazza. Courtesy of Mendes Wood DM.

São Paulo’s Mendes Wood DM is the center of attention this Brussels art week thanks to its new location on the city’s Rue des Sablons. The new space opened its doors with an over 40-artist exhibition curated by Fernanda Brenner, director of the acclaimed São Paulo nonprofit Pivô. Marking the exhibition’s entrance is a giant work by Swedish-Argentinian artist Runo Lagomarsino—who also claims an entire wall of the gallery’s booth at Independent Brussels.

The solo installation (priced at $35,000) comprises 40 identical black-and-white photographs, each of which is a reproduction of a single image of the artist’s mother, father, and sister aboard a ship in 1976. They are a family caught in exile, fleeing Argentina for Spain following the year’s coup d’etat, just one year before Lagomarsino was born.

“His work is all about borders, countries, colonization, and globalization,” said gallery director Magê Abàtayguara of the show, which she admits finds particular resonance in today’s political climate. It could explain why Lagomarsino has a slew of upcoming shows lined up in the United States in the coming months.

gb agency / Jan Mot

SECOND FLOOR, BOOTH 13

With works by Ryan Gander, Mario García Torres

The artistic practices of Ryan Gander and Mario García Torres, who happen to be good friends, come to a playful collision in a collaborative booth by Paris’s gb agency and Brussels and Mexico City’s Jan Mot. “The work is about the limits of art and everyday life,” said gb agency’s Julien Bouharis.

One piece, from afar, appears to be framed art-historical monochrome; on closer inspection, the single-colored sheet mimics an LSD blotting paper, complete with perforation marks. Other highlights include a telegram mailed by García Torres to his gallery (“I BET THIS WON’T ARRIVE ON TIME FOR THE SHOW = IF IT DOES, IT CAN BE PRESENTED AS A WORK OF ART  = IF IT DOESN’T, IT SHOULD REMAIN A TELEGRAM”) and an open cardboard box filled with Le Corbusier’s colored, monochrome paper swatches, “like leftovers of modernity,” said Bouharis.

Jan Kaps

Fourth Floor, Booth 4

With works by Daniel Dewar and Gregory Gicquel

Installation view of Jan Kaps’s booth at Independent Brussels, 2017. Courtesy of Jan Kaps.

On Wednesday night, Daniel Dewar and Grégory Gicquel’s work debuted in “The Absent Museum,” a large-scale exhibition that marks WIELS Contemporary Art Centre’s 10th anniversary. Earlier the same day, Cologne’s Jan Kaps debuted a solo booth featuring a stunning series of wall sculptures by the artist duo.

The four works, priced at €13,000 apiece, are carved from pink aurora marble the artists imported from Portugal, and picture mass-produced objects—vessels, toilets, even a Magritte-reminiscent pipe. The booth’s centerpiece is a decoratively carved couch, priced at €23,000 excluding VAT, inspired by a farm near Versailles.

Travesia Cuatro

First Floor, Booth 9

With works by Jorge Méndez Blake, Mateo López, Elena Del Rivero, Milena Muzquiz

Installation view of Travesia Cuatro’s booth at Independent Brussels, 2017. Courtesy of Independent Brussels.

Madrid and Guadalajara’s Travesia Cuatro has loosely focused its booth around drawing and literature. A giant pencil drawing by Mexican artist Jorge Méndez Blake, which sold for $80,000 during the preview to a Spanish-American collector, sees a lush forest with a bookcase at its center. At the booth’s center, a four-piece sculpture by Mateo López imagines the act of drawing four different types of chairs.

In addition to a series of drawings by Elena del Rivero—for which she wrote the words of Russian poet Marina Tsvetaeva with her eyes closed ($12,000 apiece)—the booth’s most striking work is a photograph by Gonzalo Lebrija taken during an eclipse in Mexico.

C L E A R I N G and Galerie 1900-2000

Second Floor, Booth 7

With works by Harold Ancart, Jean-Marie Appriou, Korakrit Arunanondchai, Hans Bellmer, Huma Bhabha, Sebastian Black, Marcel Broodthaers, Victor Brauner, George Condo, William Copley, Koenraad Dedobbeleer, Jean Dubuffet, Marcel Duchamp, Max Ernst, Aaron Garber-Maikovska, Bruno Gironcoli, Raymond Hains, Zak Kitnick, Man Ray, Calvin Marcus, Henri Michaux, Eduardo Paolozzi, Francis Picabia, Marina Pinsky, Loïc Raguénès, Ed Ruscha

C L E A R I N G, which has the Brussels art world gushing over the new 5,400-square-foot gallery it opened in the European capital on Tuesday, is also attracting its share of attention at Independent Brussels. In addition to a booth of work by Aaron Garber-Maikovska, the gallery took a second booth for its first-ever collaborative presentation, teaming up with Galerie 1900-2000 to each pick works from the other’s program.

“We represent almost exclusively young artists and they represent incredibly established, legendary artists,” says C L E A R I N G’s Max Bushman. “We’re really breaching our previous constraints, which are very much for the contemporary market.”

The resulting booth, hung salon style, sees everything from Man Ray’s 1926 portrait of André Breton’s first wife and muse Simone Kahn, to drawings by Francis Picabia, to work by nearly every artist C L E A R I N G  represents—Harold Ancart, Koenraad Dedobbeleer, and Jean-Marie Appriou among them.

Nina Johnson

Second Floor, Booth 5

With works by Jonas Mekas, Nicolas Lobo

Installation view of Nina Johnson’s booth at Independent Brussels, 2017. Photo by Renato Ghiazza. Courtesy of Nina Johnson.

This two-person booth by Nina Johnson looks at the way we remember places. At its center, sculptures by Nicolas Lobo, on offer for €2,800 apiece, loosely take the form of goggles. While they recall the iconic, pre-digital Viewmaster toy, they’re in fact based on 3D scans of a cave interior in northern Florida and preserve a memory of that place.

The surrounding walls are filled with previously unseen film strips by Jonas Mekas, clips from a series he shot at American psychologist and psychedelic therapy advocate Timothy Leary’s house in Millbrook, Connecticut, in 1965, for his seminal diary-filmwork Walden (1969). The works are on offer as a series of 28 for €56,000, with other individual works available for €4,600 apiece.

“It’s a nostalgic view of the countryside,” said Johnson, “a dreamlike version of what may or may not have been the reality of the place.” To create the work, Mekas mines his old film for images, “thinking of film as an object,” she said. The presentation precedes the 94-year-old photographer’s showing next month at Adam Szymczyk’s documenta 14 in Kassel, Germany.

Delmes & Zander

Fourth Floor, Booth 10

With work by Wesley Willis

Installation view of Delmes & Zander’s booth at Independent Brussels, 2017. Courtesy of Delmes & Zander.

If you caught the gallery’s fantastic booth at Independent New York in March, featuring drawings by anonymous artist Disko Girls, it may be little surprise to see they’ve again selected works around the theme of music, to great success.

The booth features the intricate drawings of cult American rockstar Wesley Willis, who passed away in 2003, in which he rendered Chicago’s streets, skylines, and music scene in bic ballpoint pen and felt-tip marker (and the occasional crayon) for some two decades.

—Molly Gottschalk

from Artsy News