Art World Meets Evolution

Last week I had two appointments which, by pure coincidence, led me right next to both Lumas galleries in Berlin, near the Kurfürstendamm and in Mitte. I only knew Lumas through their website, so of course I had to have a closer look at both locations.

Many readers of this blog will have heard about Lumas. In a nutshell, the two founders, Stefanie Harig and Marc Ullrich, sell limited edition prints (editions normally range from 75 to 150) from what they call “up-and-coming to established photo artists” for an affordable price. It seems to me that, in a sense, what stock photography is to assignment in advertising, Lumas wants to be to established galleries in the art sphere. According to their website, and after only a few years in business, Lumas is currently selling more than a 1000 prints per month, through their website and through the growing network of Lumas galleries.

Copyright 2007 Jens Haas

The concept looked very interesting to me. I know from many conversations particularly with new collectors of photography that they find the pompous demeanor of some established galleries rather off-putting. Lumas can certainly not be blamed for being overly pretentious. In fact the owners readily admit that they (while passionate about photography) are salespeople first and foremost (interestingly, Marc Ullrich is a cofounder of Strato, today one of the largest internet providers in Europe). The suffering artist is not their thing, and most of the Lumas collection comes across as upbeat in style. It is not surprising to me that websites like for example the omnipresent apartmenttherapy.com seem to be enthusiastic about Lumas: If you look for a print that matches your new colorful sofa, you’ll certainly find it here.

And that was my problem when I saw the Lumas offering in the flesh: To me, both of their Berlin galleries felt more like the poster section of an Ikea store than a real gallery. This certainly does injustice to some of the images, but the presentation didn’t spell ‘value’, and, on the other hand, it wasn’t the kind of cool low-key display which makes the photography speak for itself. Of course, like in stock photography, I guess once you dig into the collection you’ll probably manage to find a very strong photograph, and once you have put it into its destined environment, stripped off the surroundings it came from, it may look quite brilliant. But, at least for those who are not merely after a piece of interior design, it seems to require quite an effort to entirely detach the buying experience from the ownership of a piece of art. To me, it just felt very odd. The streamlined printing technique used for the Lumas prints (laser on photographic paper, mostly glossy) only adds to the impression that this is indeed an industrial product, with a hand-signed sticker from the artist on the back.

All this, of course, is just about different expectations. But, unlike stock photography that has taken a considerable bite out of the assignment market, I don’t see Lumas substituting what a good art gallery is doing. And if it brings down some of the tackier ones… well, a dash of Darwinism certainly won’t hurt.

Power, Money, And Immortality

Most recently, I was shocked and outraged to learn that there is a lot of shameless self-promotion all over the web. Apart from shameless self-promotion, for me the last few days have been all about dentistry, the eternal war against my various phone providers, dealing with relatives of all age groups, and waiting at rainy airports. Since, for better or worse, the photo of the bad tooth has been done before, I’ve picked the airport thing for the latest self-promotional piece. There are even traffic cones in it!

Copyright 2007 Jens Haas

Oh, and why do I *really* do a website of my own? As C. B. said after he quit the job at the post office and wrote his first novel: “There may be vomit on the keys, but at least it’s my vomit…”

Back In Your Mother’s Kitchen, By Mara L.

In my latest entries to Jens’ blog I tried to give some last minute advice for summer traveling (fatty Spanish food, rip-offs in Venice, and so on). By now, it is nearly June and I guess that those of you who are off to Europe are already on your way. I certainly have arrived at what is inevitably the first stop on every traveler’s sojourn at her homeland: my mother’s kitchen.

I shall spare you the petty little disputes, the nasty remarks from your mother about the fat-reduced joghourt you’ve come to prefer, and the comments about you looking like a stick rather than a young woman. This is the effect of the New York Diet. Happily, you can sit through the marathon of eating at home (breakfast, lunch, cake, dinner, dessert), relying on your newly acquired ‘thin habits’. They make sure that it will be easy to skip breakfast altogether, avoid part of lunch, and decide to have your cake for dessert at night—and to still feel like you are enjoying lots of amazing food!

Copyright 2007 Jens Haas

Eating my way through all the things that, in the eyes of my relatives, are unavailable in Manhattan, I found myself thinking that they are right with respect to two real spring classics: aspargus and dessert made from rhubarb. There’s lots of aspargus in Manhattan, but oddly, it tastes not at all like aspargus. There certainly is some external similarity. But once you return to Europe, you recall that it is a total fraud. Especially white aspargus is a high art, one that is seemingly not acquired in just a few decades (or even centuries) of cultivation.

However, I decided to share a recipe with you which you can actually put to use in Manhattan. In May, Italians and Austrians make all kinds of delicacies from rhubarb, and I have seen some fine quality rhubarb in Manhattan. The rhubarb is there, you only have to put it to good use! Here are three super-simple and wonderfully delicious things to do with it. The easiest: Cut it up, and cook it briefly, with lots of lemon and some sugar. You won’t believe how tasty the result is, a perfect addition to crêpe and potato pancakes of every kind, and equally nice on it’s own. Second, rhubarb cake can be made with any cake batter that you like, by simply mixing the batter with the same rhubarb-lemon-sugar mix (in this case, the mix shouldn’t be boiled for more than a minute before it’s added to the batter, and then baked in the oven). Third, the same thing is absolutely terrific as a lighter summer version of cheese-cake.

I admit that rhubarb looks a little rustic in the store, not precisely like the most elegant ingredient. But wait until you see the mix of green and pink when you cook it, it’s a design must!

Coming up: Wiener Schnitzel