Rago Auctions

A 2022 Guggenheim Fellow, Los Angeles-based artist Linda Besemer (she/they) has been pushing the limits of painting since the early 1990s. The "detachables," as Besemer calls them, are works created from the 1990s and into the 2000s that comprise a host of forms and methods but all share a remarkable element of construction: the absence of any underlying surface. For Besemer's Fold series, the artist applied paint to a surface and then peeled it away for a flexible painting that could then be hung over a supporting rod.

Reflecting on Besemer's 2022 retrospective, StrokeRollFoldSheetSlabGlitch at the Kleefeld Contemporary, critic Christopher Knight noted, "This is painting as paint, nothing more, which opened up a surprisingly complex set of considerations." For Besemer, those questions relate both to the history of abstract art as well as broader considerations of gender and binary modes. As the Kleefeld Contemporary exhibition text put it, the paintings become "disengaged from underlying discourse about systemic patriarchal inequities equated with the figure/ground binary." In their most recent work, Besemer has integrated the digital glitch into their probing of painting's subversive possibilities, asking "is a glitch an unremarkable disruption of digital programming, or can it be a formal catalyst for critical and political intervention?"

Besemer is represented by Vielmetter Los Angeles and has works in the permanent collections of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art and the Whitney Museum of American Art, among others.

A tireless collector, patron, and curator committed to new and emerging art, Kenneth L. Freed assembled a broad and smart collection over the course of his lifetime. He acquired a vast majority of the works from the primary market or directly from the artist’s themselves, often selecting seminal works by artists who were at the time still relatively unknown. This special presentation is Rago's final offering of works from Freed's remarkable collection.

By dint of his untiring commitment to and passion for new and emerging art, Freed assembled his expansive, informed collection over the course of 25 years. Often befriending the artists whose works he acquired, Freed was driven by a sincere passion for discovery of new and under-recognized talent, and uncovered his own aesthetic identity along the way. The selection offered here includes seminal and key works by artists who, though relatively unknown at the time, would become much sought after, among them Kevin Appel, Tam Van Tran, and Udomsak Krisanamis.

In addition to his contributions as an art collector, curator and patron, Freed is recognized as a writer, scholar, and intrepid traveler. Prior to his passing, he was involved with a number of Boston-based organizations, including the Institute of Contemporary Art, the Museum of Fine Arts, the Boston Lyric Opera, and the Boston Latin School Association.

Kenneth L. Freed in conversation with art journalist Louise Nicholson about becoming a collector, the joy of the chase, and his advice to collectors today:

Louise Nicholson: Ken, when did you start collecting?

Kenneth L. Freed: I make a distinction between when I started to buy art and when I started to collect. The first thing I bought was in 1973 when I got my first job that actually paid me something. I bought a Robert Motherwell print, one of the Africa series. But it wasn’t until the early 90s that I decided to pursue art in a more focused way. I set out to be modest and domestic; instead of storing big pieces of work I would collect drawings, all contemporary and, at that point, American.

LN: And how did your focus change from drawings to sculpture?

KF: I met lots of young artists, doing roughly what you might call post-minimalist, post-Tuttle kind of art. And I met young dealers all hiding from their creditors because the market had collapsed in the early 90s. I started to see things I liked, and in a small way to acquire little installations, little scattered bunches of objects. Then, in the mid-90s two things happened that totally changed my life. One, I started to travel a lot, to go to LA and Europe because I had time; to Berlin, to Rio, São Paulo, and occasionally to London.

LN: And the other thing that changed your life?

KF: I started to see things that attracted me in sculpture. I went to an auction in Guadalajara where I was offered a piece by a Brazilian artist that collapses down into a nice little box but when you put it up it would fill a whole room. And I turned to a very famous Miami collector and said: "You know, Carlos, I’m never going to be able to put this in my home." And he replied, "That’s how it starts!" Anyhow, I bit the bullet, rented a storage space and from that point on there was nothing to limit me. I became a collector of painting and sculpture by lesser-known and emerging artists.

LN: Do you enjoy the chase, which seems to be an important part of being a true collector?

KF: Yes. It became a kind of hunt, a sport. I found people of talent, then tried to connect the dots, to try to find out “I like this, and this, I don’t like that.” And to build a kind of mental map of who is doing this art, what makes it interesting, and so forth. That’s what I have found compelling for roughly 15 years.

LN: You have been a patron of unknown artists who then go on to be highly respected. Does this give you great pleasure?

KF: Absolutely! If it weren’t for that aspect I don’t think I would have done this. It was not primarily about acquiring things; acquiring was a consequence of the activity, the activity being finding the people, finding the art, trying to encourage them, curating shows and showing the work in my very filled apartment – having open houses, inviting people, and all that; getting the word out. So, buying the art was a way of saying "I think this is good."

LN: How did you seek the artists out?

KF: Initially, it started through meeting young gallerists. They introduced me to young artists, who talked about other artists. The information is always there. It is a question of having the sense of which information you have to acknowledge. It becomes an experience thing, and eventually automatic.

LN: Did you go to directly to artists’ studios?

KF: Yes, especially in other cities. I would get a young artist to drive me around and we would visit a variety of collectors, artists—young and more experienced—and galleries.

LN: How do you see the difference between investment collecting and what you have done?

KF: Well, if you can’t trust your own aesthetic judgement, then what is the point of getting involved? You need to spend some time making mistakes when you start out. To some extent, it was about trying to help young artists and educate myself, and in another way, it was just the sensuous and intellectual pleasure of it.

LN: How would you describe your collection? And what brings you to sell it now?

KF: I chose it all, not dealers. And for 99% of it I was the first owner. Now I want my babies to grow up and take care of themselves! I want it all out there. I’m offering a very wide range of material, about 900 of the 13,000 pieces I have. I have absolutely no regrets; it’s been a wonderful ride, totally, but it’s one that’s coming to its natural end.

LN: Finally, what is your advice to a budding collector?

KF: Buy early and often! The best place to start to learn is the group shows. If you are interested, get into it, do it until it plays itself out and then move on, which is what I’ve done. Basically, you’ve got to stumble, to buy things you like, then let your taste develop because if it doesn’t, you’re robbing yourself of what is the special value of the whole process.