Social engagements are socially engaged

You know, when we discovered that our great grandfather had made his fortune supplying toothpaste to the Nazis, it came as a great, great shock to our family. A historical trauma. All those white teeth, you see, it was almost like a metaphor for purity. So that is when I decided that I must do something which would erase this stain. Erase the whiteness, if you like. If that is possible. So that is when I decided to start collecting – this was in the mid 1990s, and art was very cheap. However, as I am always saying to my husband, collecting is a practice, social engagement is a practice – I need time and space for my practice. So we asked Amira if she wouldn’t mind extending her hours. She used to start at 7am – she’s such a delight! – she comes in at 5am now to get the kids ready and run the baths. With that extra time, I started to socially engage with a very many like-minded folk for weekly sunrise breakfasts and meeting once a month for a delightful family supper. Amira positively embraced the late nights, always hovering while my colleagues and I discussed the latest Hauser & Wirth or our trip to Paramaribo Triennial. At 3am she’d inevitably bring out a tiramisu to calm our nerves after a particularly fraught discussion on ecologically-responsible textiles, or what to wear for the opening of Paris Internationale, or whether Muslims should be allowed to run Documenta again.

Klaus said that my little meetings were something of a salon (which confused me as I had been there the day before – the new stylist Alessandro works the most gorgeous balayage!), and that the natural thing would be to invite artists to present their work to us. Sandie o ered to invite Eloise Gore, a very talented site-specific painter who had installed a mural in her dining room. Sandie told me how she wasn’t allowed any input into what was painted, after Eloise had explained that if she was serious about her practice she just needed to transfer £30k and be out one afternoon. (Eloise refuses to have the client around while she works, because she is making a statement about class inequality, Sandie says. I told her to check if the jewellery is still in the safe…) Eloise had said she wished to make a commentary on the plight of the Spix’s macaw. Well, after Sandie passed round photos on her ipad, I was spitting feathers in jealousy: across the wonderful walls of her West Hampstead home Eloise had illustrated a positively beautiful bright bird emitting a speech bubble aimed evidently at the Climate Emergency. ‘Fuck o stupid rich fuck face prick nonce’ the bird squawked. This is wonderfully challenging.

Instead, however, we settled on a collective. I loved Eloise but maybe she’s a little too white. And I think collectives are so important. It was Klaus who thought of them. Four weeks later six representatives from the came round, a wonderful group from the Middle East engaged in social practice to do with housing and identity. They showed us some incredible videos of their work, though I forget now where they had been exhibited. Some museum, probably. It was obviously very important art though because the videos were all grainy and they accompanied them with maps and gave a great performance lecture concerning the history of their region. Then they encouraged us to make donations to help with their practice which we were obviously very happy to do. They told me £100k should be enough to finance the multimedia technology needed for their next project – drone swarms, long-range cameras – all incredibly exciting stu ! The whole night was a terrific success, only mired by the fact that halfway through ’s performance, with a funny look on her face, Amira dropped the baklava. I hope she’s not pregnant.