Dog Days of Summer

The climate-conditioned glass box known as the Javits Center was a welcome respite from the sweltering conditions outside. The last time I was here was for the International Auto Show. This time it was for the Armory Show. Neither were helping the climate.

My press pass blinked green as I tapped an oversize entry terminal. My neighbors blinked blue. “Different types of tickets,” I was told by the usher. Art fairs are all about access. They are, maybe, about art.

By the entrance was a large-mirrored Robert Indiana sculpture that spelled out “love in Hebrew,” according to the bored-looking gallerist, a derivative of the pop artist’s Love in English sculpture, according to a bored-sounding me.

In the oblong “platform” area anchoring the fair, I stopped by the Pommery Champagne Lounge, where a friend who works for the fair had popped a bottle of champagne for “sponsors,” only for them to leave and drink none of it. I stepped in to help. Asked “what the vibe was,” another employee of the fair offered, “I feel like art fairs have been doing so bad but this one is going wel…