Art Basel (20–25 October) / Paris Internationale (19–24 October) / Offscreen (19–25 October) / Asia Now (19–24 October) / Post-Fair (19–24 October) / Parallel Vienna (19–24 October) / Ceramic Art Fair (20–25 October) / AKAA (22–25 October) / Moderne Art Fair (21–25 October) / Thema (21–25 October) / Coucou Paris (19–23 October) / Offprint (22–25 October) / Private Choice (18–25 October) / Outsider’ Paris (20–25 October) / Design Miami Paris (20–25 October)

For a brief moment, I had the intention of going to see all of them, but this impetus was cut short by a general feeling of fatigue and overwhelm, not to mention the call to arms circulating at liberty in the infinity of the World Wide Web, promising to eat the rich and finish the job of burning Paris to the ground on the 24th of October.

The threats worked. Most art centers and museums, as well as Art Basel, AKAA, Moderne and Private Choice, closed that Saturday. The majority reopened on Sunday. Some (I’m obviously pointing my finger at Art Basel) didn’t reopen at all.

The same people who menaced Art Basel at the Grand Palais with open fire then complained that Art Basel doesn’t care about the general public, that it was only open to VIPs for the first few days of the week, and that art and culture are only there for the rich and famous.

Excuse me, but why are we surprised that a fair that explicitly earns money from renting out booths to galleries, in return guaranteeing the safety of the visitors and the works, or perhaps the other way around, chose the safe business option to the detriment of someone else’s opportunities?

Don’t get me wrong, culture is there to be shared, and access to it must be guaranteed, but this is what public institutions are for—or, dare I say, public utility institutions, whatever that might mean. By the way, no one yelled at the Louvre for being closed that Saturday.

Before we get into the more complex topics emerging from this scandal—notably the constantly rising prices of artworks, the segregation between the top 10% of artworks sold and the rest, and the decreasing chances of success for artists of any age, all of which major art fairs, galleries, collectors and artists contribute to—what I am trying to focus on here is the lack of consistency in the demands. The desire to destroy is only romantic until you need to live through the uncertainty of the aftermath, which in itself brings lack, poverty, discomfort and pain.

Pulling everyone down or matching the lowest doesn’t automatically make things better. Instead, it increases competition even further. Let’s present a plan instead of playing God by breaking down the Babylonian tower. We have seen how that ends.

Now the professional committee for French art galleries has complained to Art Basel about its failure to reopen on Sunday and asked for compensation for the closed weekend. The story is to be continued.

My five cents: for one, reopening an exhibition (say, Cézanne at the Grand Palais, so as not to travel too far) is different from reopening a fair with 211 exhibitors and all the personnel that entails. But was the decision to close it completely from Friday evening taken too hastily? Probably.

I don’t wish looting on anyone, and I’m sure no gallery or fair wishes to experience it. In Paris, it did happen just days before Art Basel’s decision was taken.

Back to the art.

Full disclosure: I only went to see five of the above fairs. My verdict: great works, less great works, nothing terrible, all expensive. It’s hard to be a gallerist, it’s hard to be a fair, and it’s even harder to be an artist.

Whether it was because of my selective attention (also known as the Baader–Meinhof phenomenon, specifically when something catches your attention and you start noticing it everywhere, although it hasn’t become more common—sorry, I can’t help my calling to teach ya something) or because artists pick up on their environment (I lean toward this second reason), I could not stop seeing two ever-present tendencies: fire/burning/burnt/charcoal and body dysmorphia/Frankenstein/robo-human beings. Sometimes together.

Six rare films by Ana Mendieta, presented by Marian Goodman at Offscreen, show the artist’s figure outlined in earth, eventually buried, burnt or sunk in blood or water. The body is at the core of Mendieta’s practice, a body of transformation, transition, purification, forgiveness and revenge. Much of that happens through fire, the companion of humanity.