Fresh Air Fair

PHOTOS BY VIVIAN TANG

 

 

Callicoon, New York, population 216, best know for its Annual Tractor Parade and haunted motels, has gotten a bit of buzz lately thanks to Callicoon Fine Arts, a modest gallery space run by Photios Giovanis, who imports some of New York’s more interesting emerging artists like Ben Berlow, Daniel Gordon and Margaret Lee. This past Saturday, the New Art Dealers Alliance, organized in part by Giovanis, took over the sleepy town for the third installment of the NADA County Affair.

A departure from their more serious endeavor, the NADA art fair in Miami, the County Affair focuses on the quirky and unconventional, rather than selling art. “Temporary tattoos in the countryside seemed like a fun way to spend a Saturday,” mused Sam Wilson of Brooklyn’s Klaus von Nichtssagend Gallery, whose booth was hawking adhesive body art created by their artists. Wilson, whose own bicep tattoo by Donna Chung was melting in the afternoon sun, added, “The highlight of the fair, as with any art fair, is seeing all the familiar faces transplanted to a new location. Being in the country with a bunch of friends from New York reminds us why the art world is a fun world to work in.” Those familiar faces in attendance were critic Carlo McCormick, artist Spencer Tunick, and Jack Hanley, who moved his lively San Francisco gallery to New York two years ago. Hanley’s booth sold buttons and T-shirts made by Simon Evans, Xylor Jane and Chris Johanson, and cupcakes and lemonade for the sweet-toothed. Bushwick’s Fortress to Solitude built a makeshift gallery out of plywood to display their group exhibition. There was a live performance by Lucy in the Sky, whose set was interrupted by a 10-year old visitor who grabbed the mic to establish his city street-cred amongst the country locals: “I live in Park Slope!” Of course you do, kidâ??that’s where children come from. But what really motivated so many art-loving city-folk to leave the comforts of their skyscrapers and sweltering subways? The alpaca petting zoo.