Sam Detch

The wealthy collector is king.
 
The once appreciated voice of the critic is lost in the compiled banter of auctioneers and socialites. Artwork now is created as quickly as it is bought and stored in a dark room at a perfect 68 degrees fahrenheit. The system is locked in and artists are born into the market. For the past decade, the wealthiest one percent of the world has had the power to write artists into the history books, or keep them buried.
 
I hope we, the other ninety-nine percent, can trust in their intentions. As of October 18th, 1973, the art market became the new Wall Street, and despite my childish dreams of becoming an artist, it seems I was actually born an investment analyst. The system, the game, is monumental and global, and the amount of powerful
people and entities that are involved is actually frightening. The continual and consistent inflation is seemingly endless.
 
This is my subject matter. I have the power to sculpt any face on the planet, with a single google image. I have sculpted a collector, a dealer, and a critic. I will sculpt auctioneers, curators, museum directors, and artists. I will shed light on the totality of the system, like no artist has done before. This is my debut in the game.