"WORK OF ART": RARE REALITY

On a sweltering Wednesday night it was business as usual outside the Brooklyn Museum. There were smokers, BMX bikers, a lone juggler and someone passed out on the grass. Few seemed to care about the klatch of smartly dressed people nibbling plantain chips inside the museum's glassed-in lobby. But amid this throng, gathered for the grand finale of Bravo's reality-TV show "Work of Art: The Next Great Artist", it was hard to consider anyone else. We had come to learn who would end up with the big prize: a solo show at the museum, plus $100,000.

The show, an elimination contest in the vein of "Project Runway" or "Top Chef", pitted 14 aspiring artists against each other in a series of challenges judged by Jerry Saltz, a critic for New York magazine, Jeanne Greenberg Rohatyn and Bill Powers, both gallerists, and China Chow, the presenter. A rotating cast of guest judges included big art names such as Ryan McGinness and Andres Serrano. Sarah Jessica Parker is the executive producer. In an earlier post, we pondered how such a contest could work for such a subjective field—how, indeed, does one judge a work of art? This party, where contestants rubbed elbows with judges and buddies, seemed like a good place for More Intelligent Life to at least learn how the artists felt about it all.

Though the show wrapped up last autumn, everyone involved was bound by a non-disclosure agreement that kept mouths shut on the show's result. John, a contestant who lives in Los Angeles, chose instead to opine for More Intelligent Life on the casting choices, pointing out that he was the only gay contestant on the show. "And I thought all artists were gay!"

Ryan, the lovable art-school lush whose work, in Saltz's words, "didn’t communicate his intended content on its own," revealed a theory that Miles Mendenhall, one of the finalists, had faked his obsessive-compulsive disorder as a performance art stunt. ("I read The Economist," Ryan also volunteered.) Erik, another contestant, confirmed Ryan's theory. A tattooed motorcyclist edited to appear menacing and ornery on the show, Erik turned out to be amiable and focused in person. He praised Saltz's tough love: "I didn't like him on the show, but hindsight's the best thing. Jerry's like the cool teacher in school: he pushed you when you needed to be pushed."

At 10pm guests assembled in front of a screen to watch the finale. China Chow suppressed tears as she introduced the last episode. "I get so emotional—I don't know why!" Sarah Jessica Parker arrived minutes before the screening and took a seat among the contestants in a truncated Amish-style dress. Minutes in, the final show confirmed what has been plain throughout the season: "Work of Art" is an exception to the reality television canon. Heartwarming, productive and encouraging of generous spirits, it was mercifully free of the tawdry backbiting that pervades such programmes. "Am I allowed to say that the last episode of 'Work of Art' made me feel glad all over?" Saltz wrote in his final recap. Absolutely. When Abdi Farah, a 22-year-old recent graduate of the University of Pennsylvania, was announced as the winner, all three finalists leapt to their feet and hugged in elation.

As characters, the final three contestants weren't the diametric opposites that reality television usually presents: there was Abdi, a talented, bright-eyed and uncorrupted naïf; Peregrine, a talented, bright-eyed and uncorrupted naïf, and Miles, a talented, bright-eyed and uncorrupted (though possibly duplicitous) naïf. Far from producing a dull finale, this meant that the show's drama was professional rather than personal. When Abdi observed onscreen that "Win, lose, or draw, me and Miles are going to be friends for a long time," the real-life Abdi and Miles high-fived.

“Luminous Bodies”, Abdi Farah's solo show, will be on view at the Brooklyn Museum from August 14th to October 17th

~ MOLLY YOUNG