SPLIT LEVEL
The Art Fair That Ate the Design Showroom
SPLIT LEVEL, Jaqueline Cedar’s scrappy, interdisciplinary exhibition, returns for its second year.
Last year, I was invited to check out the debut edition of the SPLIT LEVEL fair in New York. I don’t really cover art fairs in my own writing, so presumably I was asked to be there because of its unusual location: a showroom for the Italian luxury brand Rimadesio (the kind of thing that does overlap with my universe, even if not often here at Wrong House!). I wasn’t quite sure how it would work, but I loved the weirdness of an art fair taking place among closet systems and kitchen displays—so I checked it out and clocked a few favorites right away, like this tiny TV lamp from Chris Beeston via Alex Stoller.
Jaqueline Cedar, the artist and gallerist behind SPLIT LEVEL, is not afraid to embrace a scrappy solution, as Adrian Madlener explores in the reported feature below. She’s also cultivating a fair environment that’s accessible to those of us just starting our own collections. Read on for Adrian’s take on why this kind of fair resonates now, its cross-disciplinary exhibition approach, and what to expect from this year’s edition.
Speaking of which! We will be gathering a group for a Wrong House-exclusive tour of the show:
⌂ ⌂ ⌂ JOIN WRONG HOUSE FOR A VIP TOUR OF SPLIT LEVEL ⌂ ⌂ ⌂
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 3 at 11 AM
RSVP REQUIRED - EMAIL LILA@WRONG-HOUSE.COM TO SIGN UP
(or just reply to this email, hey!)
I’ll be there—see you then!
⌂ ⌂ ⌂
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Written by Adrian Madlener
There’s no doubt that the art market has hit a rough patch. At last year’s Art Basel Miami Beach fair, the slowdown was clear, with a number of regular blue-chip galleries presenting mid-priced pieces rather than the trophy eight-figure works that sold there during the post-Covid boomtimes. Smaller platforms have struggled to keep their doors open; many have closed. The reason: escalating operational costs; high interest rates and inflation nudging wealthy buyers toward caution; older collectors downsizing; and younger ones spending their smaller budgets on other types of collectibles.
But like most periods of upheaval, there’s opportunity to shake things up. For artist-turned gallerist-turned-fair director Jaqueline Cedar, the current moment isn’t one of doom and gloom—unless, of course, that’s what an artist exhibiting at SPLIT LEVEL, the fair she is bringing back for its second edition this year, has chosen to explore.
“The art market is always expanding and contracting,” she says, gently assuaging the loudest among the alarmists. “Emerging talents and galleries are uniquely positioned to succeed in moments where collectors are being more conservative with big purchases.” In establishing the fair in New York City last fall, Cedar set out to turn the traditional “convention center art fair” format on its head, championing a more dynamic and resourceful approach that bypasses the cost-prohibitive barriers that have long kept smaller, fledgling players out of the game.
She does it by staging a tight yet diverse roster of galleries in the “split-level” NoMad showroom of Rimadesio, an Italian brand best known for its high-end, modular architectural systems. Works of various scales, styles, and disciplinary definitions are cleverly staged throughout the sleek monochromatic setting, creating a visually intriguing contrast of different shapes, colors, and textures.
Among the 16 exhibitors that are part of the second edition this year—on view October 1 to 3—there are artist-run platforms as well as ones focused on research, archives, and stewardship. SPILL 180, for instance, evolved from a domestic, informal setting into an interdisciplinary platform that fosters inquiry and publishing through projects like BEANS, an online publication. 95 Gallon, another exhibitor, embraces a playful approach by operating out of a trash can, prompting the question of what is necessary, really, to draw people to see art. In contrast, Artist Estate Studio shifts the focus away from exhibition-making entirely, prioritizing the long-term archival, strategic, and promotional infrastructure required to sustain an artist’s career beyond sales. Despite these differing operational models, each platform is unified by a commitment to building resilient support systems that expand upon, rather than replace, traditional gallery frameworks.
What Cedar has structured with SPLIT LEVEL could, in fact, take place in any number of settings. Why Rimadesio, then? With the brand offering up the space for free, there’s much less overhead. The fair activates the sleek interior in a different way and draws in visitors that might not otherwise come in. It’s a win-win. It would also seem that a furniture showroom is more approachable than a gussied-up tent—the annual Frieze fair in London’s Regent’s Park—or an austere white cube—the many venerated galleries situated in the nearby Mayfair neighborhood.
“I’ve found the itinerant model is most beneficial in its ability to facilitate overlapping dialogues between cities and art contexts,” she says. “Rather than asking audiences to come to a single permanent destination, these projects can move into different regions and introduce artists to new communities.” There are challenges of course—shipping costs and safety issues—but in an age of digital fatigue and detached visual overstimulation, the possibility of experiencing art in person outweighs these risks.
At Rimadesio, nothing can be drilled into the walls. All works need to be arranged on tables or pre-existing shelves: the brand’s signature Zenit System post and beam storage product, perhaps. “The advantage is that most limitations tend to yield creative workarounds and seeing art in these unconventional placements can really influence the way one imagines living with work in their own homes,” says Cedar. She’s also incorporated lessons from her own venture, Good Naked Gallery, which operated out of an extra room in her apartment. “People tend to stay longer and have more engaged conversations,” she explains. “We saw that happening last year at Rimadesio for our first run—over the course of three days, visitors sat down, spoke with artists, returned, and brought friends.” The boost to Rimadesio of potential new customers doesn’t hurt, either.
Cedar believes there should be as little as possible in the way of a gallerist or dealer doing what they do best: finding artists whose work they believe in, and matching them with audiences who hold their work in similar esteem. “That relationship is ultimately about creating context and trust, not facilitating a transaction,” she says. Operating with this approach rather than a bottom-line mindset, the works on view at SPLIT LEVEL are accessible to entry-level collectors.
For her, the safest bet is not acquiring a piece of art—a recognizable “masterpiece”—that can quickly turn over merely as a shrewd speculative investment. “If it’s something you love, it’ll inform the way you spend time in your space every day, and potentially influence the way you see things when you go out in the world,” she says. When buying at lower price points, “Move intuitively and responsively toward the objects that move you,” she advises. “There’s also something really exciting about collecting at this scale because you can take a chance on an emerging artist or a new idea without the intense pressure of return or how the market may shift.”
In this spirit, SPLIT LEVEL does away with the disciplinary hierarchies that’ve hardened art-world evangelists for centuries. Painting, sculpture, furniture, objects—all are fair game. “We’re interested in where they overlap,” she says, noting that she thinks the distinctions between art and design will continue to blur as the fair develops: “A lot of artists and collectors are already thinking beyond traditional categories.”
There’s sincerity in how she operates across her ventures; pulling back the veil that normally shrouds the art world in favor of transparency. She sees levity as important, too. “The world is often absurd,” she says. “It helps to laugh about it.” Rather than approaching the art milieu with genuflecting reverence, Cedar aspires for something different: “Creating an environment where people feel comfortable asking questions, spending time with the work, and speaking with the people involved.” That, she believes, is when collecting becomes truly accessible. ⌂