‘Artists’ whisperer’ Michael Werner looks back on the birth of Art Basel and his expansion to the US by Clément Dirié

‘Artists’ whisperer’ Michael Werner looks back on the birth of Art Basel and his expansion to the US

Clément Dirié
‘Everyone in the artworld is talking about globalization,’ he says. ‘To me globalization is an illusion’

In the second part of this exclusive interview, legendary dealer Michael Werner reflects on his time in New York, the American market, and what keeps him motivated after half a century in the business.

Clément Dirié: Do you remember the first years at Art Basel or Art Cologne?

Michael Werner: I was at the first Cologne art fair in 1967 as an employee of [Berlin art dealer and gallerist] Rudolf Springer. Only 18 galleries participated. I asked: ‘Can I sell one work on your booth?’ I hung a 1 × 1 m early Ernst Ludwig Kirchner drawing with an expensive frame I'd bought on credit. It sold for DM 8,000 and I made 2,000 with the commission!

For me, Basel was a child of Cologne, and I was more on Cologne’s side. But at the openings you could buy fantastic things. With Rudolf Zwirner I bought Fantôme bleu (1951) by Wols for USD 120,000. He sold it to the Ludwig Museum so fast that I didn’t even have to pay my half.

I like Basel. I had a gallery in Bäumleingasse from 2015-16 in the Erasmushaus. Today Basel is, for me, much more interesting than New York; it could serve as a model for the artworld. I also love Paris because it’s also a model, maybe one from the past.

Is there something common to all the artists you represent?

I have always worked with the same artists. I still have a motivation: to reestablish the traditional German visual arts. But it won’t happen in my lifetime. We have this new legislation on cultural heritage that is a disaster. Also, the German market doesn’t exist. German collectors go to London or New York. Ambition is not very high. I made all my decisions alone with one aim in mind: to create a ‘German position’ in art. Although German artists are very successful, there is still no German position.

I’m not a buy-and-sell art dealer. I am a promoter. In the 1990s, especially when I started to be active in America, I made exceptions to my personal tastes. I had had 15 years of no success regarding sales in the 1960s and 1970s, then success came and I started to be part of the mainstream movement.

One story is maybe emblematic. I bought some Eugène Leroy drawings but I never thought I would work with him. Once, driving back from France, I saw a sign saying: Wasquehal. This was all I knew about Leroy, the name of his village. [At his house] a tall heavy man came to the door. I spoke to him with the 20 French words I knew and explained that I was a promoter who worked with artists with whom I had an exclusivity. He told me: ‘Nobody is interested into my work. Have the exclusivity – carte blanche.’

Your specialty is really to promote artists who were not successful or have been forgotten.

Yes, but it was very different from having an experience of a show with Buren in the 1970s. That was still private because Buren was not successful, I was not successful; we were minor.

Today everyone in the artworld is talking about globalization. To me globalization is an illusion. It is all political… Many countries have got rid of their culture. Either it was taken away or they lost it.

Eugène Leroy and Michael Werner in the artist's studio, Wasquehal, c. 1996.
Eugène Leroy and Michael Werner in the artist's studio, Wasquehal, c. 1996.

Do you like New York? You established a gallery there in 1990.

I became a New Yorker. For the 10 years I lived there, each month I spent 15 days in Cologne. I was disappointed by the New York art scene because it is a model of contemporary culture just playing with materialism. For Americans, the only thing that counts in art is novelty. Content is not interesting. An artist’s personality is a factor, but what principally counts is success. We did a lot of influential exhibitions, but as soon as the next wave of artists came, the collectors sold everything. They had no conviction in art.

American artists don’t talk about art. I only knew two with whom I could talk for hours: Don Van Vliet [aka Captain Beefheart], because he thought he was a pioneer, and Brice Marden.

I have a family in New York; I married Mary Boone. Mary, being very American, thinks artists have to be nice people. She called me the ‘artists’ whisperer’ and gave me that job, which I did very badly. This is how I became friends with  Julian Schnabel. He is impossible, but I like him. We also had a contract with  Jean-Michel Basquiat, the most suspicious person I ever met. I told him that Penck had painted Hommage à Basquiat. He said: ‘Why are you making this up?’ I answered: ‘Why would I?’

James Lee Byars was the most hated American artist in America. Everything he did is sort of a misunderstanding, but a productive one. That made me take him into the gallery! Even if he was a pain in the neck, he had great standards and this mystical aspect. He represented what I missed in America.

All the artists we have talked about are unique individuals who have come together over time, with me acting as a catalyst. I’m fascinated by eccentric people who produce complex and interesting art. I was always there with them; I struggled intellectually and emotionally with them. There was equilibrium.

Top image: Michael Werner and Markus Lüpertz, c. 1974. 

Extract from the Art Basel | Year 48 book. For more information, click here.