Story and Photos by Elizabeth Fernandez

The buzz began months ago, as the media began announcing Art Basel Miami Beach, one of the most significant and influential art shows in the entire world. By December, everyone in the United States must have known that South Florida was hosting the most important art show in North America.

European artist Tea Mäkipää takes a picture of her sculpture, titled 1:1

I attended Art Basel for the first time with the highest expectations. I’m no stranger to art galleries, and the idea of having representatives from over 200 galleries in my own backyard had me giddy long before the event hit Miami Beach December 7-10. I had fantasized for weeks about the opportunity to see artists from all over the world, and I was not disappointed.

From the second I arrived in Miami Beach, it was obvious something different was in the air. The entire city positively hummed with creative juices. Sculptures dotted the landscape, such as Tea Mäkipää’s 1:1, a full-scale model of the inner pipe workings of a house. The streets teemed with people, from avid art collectors to the merely curious. The excitement of the city was a palpable thing, and as I made my way into the city, I could feel the exhilaration.

Before I stepped into the convention center, I found myself drawn to the Art Video Lounge. The day was gray, but I did not feel ready to face the convention center just yet. Merely walking outside the looming blockish building threatened a stimulation overdose, and the pleasant garden with its scattered sculptures seemed much more attractive. As I strolled through the Botanical Gardens, I felt a smile creep across my face.

Aaron Young, of the Harris Lieberman gallery, designed this piece of conceptual art for Art Positions, an exhibit of galleries in shipping containers containers converted into works of art

After a brief walk, I found myself at the darkened Art Video Lounge. I consider myself a film buff and have always been fond of short films, so I was particularly excited about the exhibit. I stepped into a darkened room separated into viewing areas by black curtains and hanging projection screens. The first video I noticed was by Nathalie Djurberg, appropriately titled Tiger Licking Girls Butt. The clay animation film definitely delivered on its promise. Over and over again, a young woman drops her towel and leans forward onto a bed, and a comical tiger licks her.

“Why do I have the urge to do these things?” the girl asks herself every time. I couldn’t quite contain my urge to laugh, and considering her other short films, such as Danse Macabre, in which a group of socialites meet a group of Mafiosos with hilariously tragic results, that may have been the reaction Djurberg was hoping for.

Meanwhile, the screen to the left played Sea of Tranquility by Marco Brambilla. It seemed in direct contrast to the flamboyance of Djurberg’s work, a subtle and tragic short film which consists of a single shot of the iconic Apollo 11 lunar module slowly decaying until it turns to sand and blows away. The emotional contrast left me feeling slightly unsettled, a somehow pleasant sensation that did not abate once I stepped into the convention center.

The entire event was an exercise in contrasts. Esoteric works of every kind of imaginable artifact ever loosely considered art seemed comfortable next to timeless works by Picasso and Salvador Dali. Yet somehow, it all seemed to blend perfectly. As I perused the representative art of over 200 galleries, I felt as though I was witnessing a microcosm of the entire world, a living museum showcasing the creative aspirations of the human species.

Fruits of Evil, by Diango Hernandez

Fruits of Evil, an installation piece by Diango Hernandez, drew my attention as I stepped into the convention center. It definitely stood out, the forest of black half-filled light bulbs in stark contrast to the white walls of the exhibitors’ booths, but it left me asking what one would do with such a work once purchased. As evocative as it was, I could not imagine any practical way of displaying the work outside of a gallery or a museum. Frequently throughout the day, I found myself struck by the impracticality of so much of Art Basel. The show possesses a delightful sort of uselessness. The experience itself is reason enough for its existence, and that holds true for the artwork as well.

Between the Torus and the Sphere IV by Richard Serra, a color etching of seven black curves with a white background, may have seemed simplistic at first glance, but for a measly $8,000 it promised to make my life more Zen. Even as financially strapped as I generally find myself, I honestly felt sorely tempted to purchase it. As much as l liked the piece, I think what interested me most was the idea of it as a work of art.

I spent most of my time at Art Basel vacillating between amusement, wonder, incredulity, awe and playfulness. At times, such as after spotting Your House by Olafar Eliasson, a hand-bound book of 454 laser cut pages creating the recessed image of a house, I’m struck by the child-like desire to take the art off the walls and just playing with it.

By Sunday afternoon, Art Basel had left me more then weary. It left me feeling world weary, and that may be the international art show’s greatest draw. I felt as though I had spent a weekend jet-setting across the world, sampling all of the artistic communities and trends along the way.

I have never quite been able to find a single definition of art that I can agree with. To me, art is a sensation, an experience, a lifestyle, and an attitude. It can be anything that touches another human being, anything that attempts to express the innermost workings of the creative act to another. Life itself is a living, breathing work of art, and so is Art Basel.