This is an archive of the ArtCat Zine, 2007-2009. Please visit our new project, IDIOM.

"Where beautiful girls wait to be discovered"

Juergen Teller "Kiev No. 10", 2007
Juergen Teller, Kiev No. 10, 2007, c-print, dimensions variable, edition of 5. Via Lehmann Maupin Gallery.

Juergen Teller
Lehmann Maupin Gallery - 540 W. 26 St, New York NY
7 February - 15 March 2008

Arriving at the Juergen Teller opening at Lehmann Maupin last week, I stared in horror at the huge crowd of people clamoring to get inside what seemed — and proved an impeccable assumption — a giant clothing ad disguised as an art exhibition. Luckily the crowd was smarter than I had anticipated. I pushed my way past the greedy looking eyes queuing up for their free Lufthansa sponsored sausage — because everything tastes better when it's free and corporate sponsorships allows one to justify this type of blind consumption. It's funny how popular this show was considering I didn't recognize anybody, despite their coy poses for the photographers who chased all the skinny c-listers with fur trimmed coats. The fur looked like cheap shit rabbit but at least she was tactful enough not to get her sausage bits all over the cases that held the photographs, unlike the other cow whose blatant disregard I secretly admired. Clearly someone decided that a photograph enclosed in what functions like a large table was both a practical and resourceful approach to exhibition strategy. I could not agree more. What was shocking however, was that Marc Jacobs had no hand in the show. If the patron saint of corporate sponsors heard my prayers, he would have sent copious MJ swag — or at least perfume samples. As a Board of Advisors "prime cut" member, even on the Phillips de Pury staff, we got diminutive plastic baggies that came in shiny shades shamrock and olive drab for us lucky female employees to choose from. The made-in-China tag was smaller than the MJ logo so everyone was thrilled. But for Juergen Teller — nothing, not even an appearance!

I airkissed my way to the door, finished my beer, complained about the traffic to the exit being worse than the L train at rush hour, and left with no lasting impressions except for the delightful image of one Ukrainian whore with a Third World boob job and a scar to show that was quite possibly worse than the one on Britney's vagina in that most memorable celebrity photo of 2007. Too bad Juergen didn't shoot that one. It could have been so much more poignant.