A 1981 Andy Warhol portrait of felon-baron Conrad Black sold for $240,000 yesterday. The Los Angeles art dealer who bought it, however, had no idea who Black was when he started bidding. Ouch. Though really, it's probably far more useful to recognize a Warhol than a Black, especially considering you won't be seeing much of the latter for the next 15-30 years. Stay tuned for Black's sentencing date, postponed this morning by 10 days to December 10.
Former Seventeen editor Atoosa Rubenstein "said she is not thinking about business, only 'play,'" with her new web venture, a series of videos that debut on YouTube today. "But business is hardly on the back burner. She is seeking investors (although for now she is self-financed)." That stunning piece of news is one of many contained in Times trendtard Stephanie Rosenbloom's Style profile of the 'Toos today.
As part of a settlement between Conrad Black and the convicted fraudster's bankrupt Ravelston Corp., the convicted fraudster will pay nearly $400,000 to buy back a portrait of himself painted by the late Andy Warhol. "Andy used to take a Polaroid shot, blow it up, put it on four silk-screens of different colours, and sell them. We got on very well, so he sold me all four for the price of one.... He was a very entertaining character." [The Globe & Mail]
A reader writes: "I have become concerned of late that David Beckham inadvertently married the late Andy Warhol." We can sort of see her point.
"Famous author" Rob Byrnes—he wrote the gayest book on earth, Trust Fund Boys—has sniffed out a new angle on the mysterious burning and beating of UES 'society doctor' Denton Sayer Cox. Cox claims that an assailant attacked him on a street corner. But the cops think his injuries are the result of a "gay pickup gone wrong," based on the types of burns and the fact that Cox's wallet was, uh, in his apartment. Sad and not at all funny! What is a little bit intriguing, though, is homo-chick-lit writer Byrnes' take on the whole sordid mess.
From an article on Area, the post-Studio 54 club on Hudson Street that, in its heydey (1983-1987), was frequented by artist Andy Warhol, singer Boy George, the "brat pack" actors, writer Jay McInerney, and an assortment of artists, musicians, and NYC party people: [DJ Johnny Dynell:] "One summer night the room was really packed, and I noticed a sudden commotion on the floor. I ran down from the DJ booth to see what was happening. This guy had had a heart attack, and was just lying there. My first reaction was to stop the music and turn the lights on. But I realized that people would stop dancing and start crowding around him. So I decided to keep playing music. But what should I play? It would be the last thing this man would ever hear, assuming he was still listening. 'Last Dance' by Donna Summer would have been good, but I didn't have it. I hate to say it, but the last record he heard was Madonna's 'Holiday.' It was just out and very popular, and I knew it would keep people dancing. But if it was the last record I ever heard, I'd be really pissed."
1. Join former S.E.C. Commissioner Arthur Levitt for a discussion on corporate fraud (and perhaps, the resulting state of your portfolio) at the Union Square Barnes & Noble.
2. Catch Vincente Minnelli's 1958 musical, Gigi, on the big screen at Ames Auditorium.
3. View Warhol drawings and prints from the '50s at the Sheehan Gallery.
