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on the one art fair this blog would have attended if it had known about it: the Comic-Con, at the Javits Center.
This preference is not because of some chip-on-the-shoulder resentment about the high-falutin' art world so much as a standing revulsion to the idea of having fairs in a city with the largest year-round real estate commitment to art. Every year dealers take work from where it looks the best, bubble wrap it, and schlepp it over to where it looks the worst. All for the convenience of a few uber-mavens who don't want to walk around Chelsea (one supposes). That, and the ultra-distilled odor of commerce that wafts over all fairs, makes it just too depressing for this sensitive artist.