Would you ever expect to lounge on a bed of pool noodles, grab free drinks in a moving freight-elevator-turned-bar and dance to a strobe light inside a larger-than life garbage bag, all in the middle of Chelsea? No Soul for Sale: A Festival of Independents has culled these elements from all over the world—from Brooklyn to Tel Aviv to Reykjavík.
This weeklong conference of artist-run spaces and nonprofits includes hourly performances, film screenings on the roof and installations. It was created as a pseudoconvention for independent institutions and artists’ collectives, to promote access to art and information about it through new, diverse avenues.
From June 24 through the 28th, from 1 to 9pm daily, more than 30 international independent artists will transform four floors and the roof of the Chelsea X building (formerly the Dia’s Chelsea space) into a sea of temporary installations, separated only by lines of red masking tape on the floor. But that doesn’t mean that the installations are bound to the ground. From their elevated scaffold platform complete with grass carpeting and Apple computers, Philadelphia’s Fluxspace members give tours via cell phone to art lovers who are out of the area.
Berlin’s Galerie im Regierungsviertel presents Forgotten Bar Project, which moves from floor to floor each day, setting up its open bar from inside the building’s freight elevator. Take your drinks up the neon-bathed stairs and out onto the roof, where the Studio Film Club will show films after dark. Although the suspended-tarp-cum-movie-screen is not exactly high-tech, it’s worth a trip up into the open air just to see Jeffrey Inaba’s pool furniture. Consisting of small, multicolored tubes that have been cut and refastened to create chaise lounges, the noodle furniture is arranged in four clusters, with an x-shaped walkway dividing the chairs.
Brina Thurston’s Saturday performance (5–6pm) of Le Jazz will take audience participation to a new level, as she offers free haircuts to re-create the feel her father’s New York salon from the 1980s. Who can pass up a free trim?—Helene Eisenstein
