Red Dot & Spectrum (RDS) is an art fair organized by Redwood Art Group, with gallery booths starting at $8,800 for 13.3m² and personal/artist booths at $4,300 for 3m². This group also oversees ArtExpo New York, Art Santa Fe, Art San Diego, and other fairs. RDS consists of three sections: Red Dot, Spectrum, and Special Collections. Whether you visit during the public days or the VIP preview hours, it’s always packed, creating a hard–to–walk atmosphere. The event takes place in the Mana Wynwood Convention Center during the first week of December, and with its dark and dark ceiling, it feels even more cramped than the large tent fairs of Miami Art Week.
As its name suggests (referring to the red stickers placed on sold artworks), RDS is heavily sales–oriented. Imagine the same ostentatiousness as gold leaf overuse in the Middle Eastern markets, blended with Pop Art, and a Western buyer base—it’s exactly like that.
The loud music playing throughout the venue gives the impression of a massive party that has yet to begin. However, this doesn’t lead to a positive experience, as it hinders communication between visitors, galleries, and artists, disrupting the formation of meaningful connections.
Whether it’s due to overly flexible regulations or last–minute gallery improvisations, many works were crammed into lifeless corners of the fair. It was disheartening to see pieces —as an artist— displayed in a chaotic, uncurated manner, resembling a shopkeeper showing off extra stock.
RDS was undoubtedly the fair where gallery staff seemed the most frustrated. This low morale could be attributed to poorly functioning air conditioning, the overpowering perfumes worn by visitors, pervasive cannabis odors, and the pressures imposed on employees by galleries. The poorly managed VIP preview —where an overextended guest list (by an uncontrolled link share) led to overcrowded booths and chaotic walking routes— set the tone for the entire fair. Despite works being installed and mounted, the promised display of digital artworks on still–wrapped TVs remained absent during the preview.
Adding inappropriate yellow lighting to the already claustrophobic venue created an even worse viewing experience. When artworks framed with glass or coated with glossy varnish were hung above eye level, they reflected the light like street lamps. If the artist was handling their own display in a small booth, one could understand their efforts to maximize exposure and sales. However, when galleries deliberately opted for poor lighting and high placements, they betrayed their agreements with artists, failing to uphold curatorial standards. Given these conditions, I wouldn’t recommend this fair for young artists looking to display their practice.
The minimalist booths —seemingly aiming for simplicity but often signaling “this is all we could manage” or “we only brought a few pieces in our luggage”— failed to balance the overwhelming colors of other displays. I observed AI–generated photographs being sold, though the artist struggled to articulate their process or intentions, raising questions about whether they were exploiting generative fill features. Additionally, selling physical artworks in exchange for cryptocurrency felt disconnected from the habits of this fair’s audience, ultimately weakening the impact of such pieces.
George Maskharashvili’s experimental/maximalist works stood proudly, demonstrating that one could innovate while remaining decorative. Mine Berthet’s Pieta or Venus, which involved transferring negative images onto canvas with oil paint and then reversing the image via an iPad, allowed viewers to experience color transformations in real–time. Daniel Vargas’ Geometric Inner Reflections booth, despite being one of the smallest, was far more professional and organized than most gallery–managed spaces. William Lynch’s Love series, though seemingly confined to a single artistic concept, likely achieved the sales volume the artist sought. Brenno Fantin’s Studio Shoes appeared to be a last–minute addition to fill space in his booth. Meanwhile, JP Pasquier’s Vibration/Cross/Ring series was one of the rare conceptually and experimentally significant contributions to the fair. I also found RS Biggs’ Auction Room enjoyable for its commentary on the art market.
It’s hard to imagine an RDS without comic book characters. Every year, the fair showcases works that exhaustively combine and exploit popular culture elements for consumer appeal. This year, Spider–Man, Popeye, and figures transformed into Trump or Jesus were prominent. Barbie–themed manipulations such as Immigrant Ken, Black Jesus, and Goddess Kali/Jeanne d’Arc by Pool & Marianela drew significant attention.
The presence of naked women painted with colors —akin to the Black Tape Project from previous years— continues to be a problematic feature of the fair. Unless such performances are contextualized as art or activism, they merely serve to commodify women, resembling the crude sales tactics of placing models next to cars at auto shows.
The fair also prominently featured works addressing themes such as the American flag, the Bible, Trump, MAGA, and the return of Israeli hostages. Adopting a neutral stance toward such subjects existing in an art fair context may end art bigotry in the long run. Art is inherently tied to ideas, whether or not one agrees with them. Segmenting content into ‘acceptable’ and ‘unacceptable’ categories under the guise of individual freedom only reinforces such regressions.
Erhan Us
Conceptual Artist, Writer, Curator
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