Koons - LONDON KICKS - Fashion, Music, Art, Film, London and Going Out

"I mean, it didn't look slick or luxurious, what was it meant to be anyway?" These less than immortal words, overheard as I walked through St James Square on the morning of the first, came from the mouth of a preppy young American suit, enervated by the sale for twelve million pounds by Christies, the day before, of a sculpture by Jeff Koons, which had, for the past ten days or so, been on public view not fifty feet from where I stood. If this is the calibre of imagination steering our major financial institutions through the credit crunch, it's going to be a bumpy ride. What is slicker than a polished stainless steel Koons? Or more luxuriant? Or more immediately apparent, more obviously 'of what it is of', than an enormous perfect balloon flower? What did they do to you as a child? Anyway, it sold, scoring a coup for London (New York being a more obvious location), breaking a new artist record for Koons, and affording all of the city (but clearly not the City) the opportunity to be temporarily blinded by catching the sun's reflection in this huge shiny child's plaything. And that twelve million? On second thoughts, so much for the economic downturn.

Jackson Boxer