The Harland Miller White Cube Hate's Outta Date print baghodlers would like to have a word with you.

Obviously there aren’t any guarantees here (especially if you don’t intend to break the 2 year resale) but I think the Miller print was more expensive at release and part of a much bigger stream of editioned work. 

I’m not really a fan of HM so I was avoiding comparisons of the art/artist.

A lot of hype = a lot of allocations to said members = a lot of investment protection = a lot of flipping and wild price estimations

And the ferris wheel goes around yet again.

It is the most visible to date. The founders talk about their love of George Condo.

It will have the most celebration and high profile client allocations.

So I think yes. It’ll be exciting to see it rolled out in a few weeks.

Are AA the Rolex of the art world?

I'm just saying that anyone who takes it to sell it in the short term will have some nasty surprises, but will see

I love all the artists that make me a lot of money too!

3 very strong images and a great release! I’m close to breaking my no edition rules for these!

They also have a fabulous Ed Rusha print to follow.

Is 2024 the return of great editions?

I think when you see the images, the size, and the edition count - you’ll agree it’s special.
I’ve never bought a print before.
For me, they far exceed the quality of the previous ones. Justifying the buzz. Again, when you compare to Jonas Wood Prints, or Rashid Johnson, at 6k these feel like an absolute gift at this price. Confident the floor will be higher but tbh I think living with the work will be the point and a lot of fun.
I’m excited. But not saying everyone else should feel obligated to be haha.

Just bought two. One to rock and one to stock. But uh....I have no idea what I just bought.

I bought one to list on stock X, one to list on eBay, one to list on FairArt

Dear Jerry,
Can you explain why so many people love the George Condo exhibition at the New Museum?

-- Aaron Holtz

Dear Aaron,
Among living artists, George Condo may be the most embraced by the powers that be. The Times called his New Museum show "sensational." That was just the beginning. Collectors love Condo’s paintings and buy them by the hundreds. New ones go for upwards of $450,000, and everything he makes sells. A recent New Yorker profile mentioned that Condo lives in luxury, collects Louis XVI furniture, hangs out with Kanye West, has two Upper East Side townhouses, loves expensive wines, gambles huge amounts of money and has a chauffeur-driven limousine. Curators love Condo, too. He’s one of the few painterly painters included in our usually painting-bereft biennials.

I’m thrilled that the New Museum is having a success, and I admire the curators of the show, Laura Hoptman and Ralph Rugoff; however, to me, Condo is a zombie -- a very limited, ironic, art-about-art artist whose work sounds the same visually derivative, technically generic notes over and over again. He provides almost no internal or psychic depth, instead giving people a sense of being in on some art-world in-jokes about style, tradition, kitsch and appropriation.

The top floor of Condo’s show is the better of the two, because it blatantly imparts his deep content. More than 50 portraits hang here, floor to ceiling and wall to wall. Your eyes dart from one to another, checking out his repertoire of creepy creatures, loony goons, naked ladies and art-world knockoffs. Many of these pictures look like the sort of neo-surreal work that was typical in the East Village in the 1980s, or the cartoony paintings of Kenny Scharf. A few are good, like Spanish Head Composition and a number of earlier, denser small works. But mostly you don’t have to look at any one painting here for more than a few seconds. That’s all they demand.

People always say Condo is a "virtuoso painter." The second-floor display gives the lie to this claim. Condo is an enthusiastic confident drawer who paints in high-keyed funky color with flourish. But he is simply deft and dexterous, aping R. Crumb and Philip Guston without any of the gutsiness or exposed inner life of these artists. Mainly you get the same fiendish figures in various styles. Condo does have a feel for grotesque in human physiognomy. I often find myself at cocktail parties, fantasizing that the person I’m talking to is some sort of Condo monster. Yet because Condo’s monsters turn into a cast of characters, they are defanged. Any idea of the grotesque is replaced by burlesque and shtick.

Condo’s is well-done work for a time still jittery about painting, weaned on idiotic ideas that it’s somehow suspect, that it can only be good if it makes jokes or comments about itself. This sort of deconstructionism has been done to death, and is so familiar and enfeebled that it can barely lift the gun to its own head. At his best, Condo is not much more than Koons-lite, a safe Schnabel, a more ingratiating Richard Prince.

But there’s a wonderful surprise ending to this show. Downstairs from Condo’s show at the New Museum is the radically fabulous survey of Lynda Benglis -- whose work from 1969 to 1975 is so fecund, fresh, relevant and prescient that she saves the day, letting you see that she predicts numerous contemporary artists from Urs Fischer and Isa Genzken to Rachel Harrison and Franz West. Among the mounds, glow-in-the-dark wall protuberances, and Mardi Gras-like peacock headdresses, don’t miss the large bronze, curved, double-headed, and veined dildo nailed to the wall, titled Smile. I wore one (the smile, not the dildo) when I left the New Museum.

Can someone please explain to an ignoramus like me why we are supposed to be throwing ourselves over this? I honestly don't get it and couldn't see it on the wall. I get who he is and who he has been associated with but this baffles me. I guess that's art.