Prada for looters, for art
I found this post on jossip.com and it’s too well-written to mess with so I am posting it here as is for those of you who never click links. But, for the rest of the pics you will have to click, so there ya go. ;-)
This Prada Store Does Not Accept Returns, Because It Does Not Accept Sales
You’re looking at the loneliest Prada store ever built. Its big opening was in 2005, but there was no party, and Miuccia Prada did not show up. Though behind the glass walls you will find shoes priced in the high three-figures, no money has ever changed hands here. Not a single swipe of an American Express card. That’s because this Prada store — Prada Marfa, located in Marfa, Texas, on an empty stretch of Highway 90 — is not a Prada store at all.
It’s a work of art — or, to us, a publicity stunt — from Berlin artists Michael Elmgreen and Ingar Dragset.
Made of earth-friendly earth, this biodegradable adobe building will slowly melt back into the landscape once the looters have removed the merchandise. The slow fade to oblivion will provide countless hours of conversation for motorists driving through West Texas. Starting with simple questions like “What the hell was that?” it’s sure to inspire more thoughtful dialogue – like “When is advertising art?” or “When is art advertising?” Or (for really long trips) “What is art, anyway?”
Shit. I think I need to build a store. Maybe a vacation store. And then the performance piece will be like a test. Like, can the artist be trusted not to loot her own store?
And to make it more appealing (to me) it’d have to be in writing that looting was absolutely without repercussion. Then I’d videotape me every day wrestling with the desire to not be taken in by all of the scenic travel posters. When I finally, inevitably, gave in I’d take the videographer (spellcheck tried to change that to ‘Paleographer’ so, characteristically seeing that as an omen, I’d take one of those along as well, whatever it is) with me and my friends and family as we vacationed around the world.
There’d be a psychologist and psychiatrist along to gauge how our glee overcame our consciences. I’d bring my therapist as well, because I need my weekly visits. I’d make it a condition that because I am taking her along on said fabulous world-traveling, I’d get daily therapy rather than the usual weekly visit. This would be necessary because I’d be having bouts of conscience which might ever-so-slightly interfere with my glee. And who knows? I might suffer vertigo when we stay in those glass-bottom huts on Vehine Island (where I built those bat houses with Tony Bennett a while back) or I might suffer mistaken anxiety when my body misreads the signals from my stomach from eating so “differently” than I do at present.
I might also experience Existential Displacement Disorder Angst (EDDA) for finding myself in countries in which I am unable to communicate due to the language barrier. So there’s that.
I like this plan. If you are a Paleographer interested in taking part in my art performance piece, please call.
Speaking of pretty travel posters…. next I will write about working at the travel company. Now there’s a story. Oh my.