ADDISON STONE (clip from the interview “Twenty Under Twenty-Five: New York Artists to Watch”): Every artist remembers her first time seeing New York. I’m no different. My boyfriend drove me down from Rhode Island on the I-95 through the Palisades, the Bronx, Harlem. You get an assload of ugly smack in the eye even before you hit midtown. My body was caffeine, malted milk balls, and adrenaline.
First thing I did was dump my bags at my shoebox dorm room at Pratt, and then I headed straight to Carine Fratepietro’s gallery show. Sweaty palms! By then I’d completed three of my Billfold series, the paintings I was doing of Bill Fieldbender, plus the one of Nancy Hurley, which had gotten me a lot of attention. My “Mom and Dad” paintings, we called them.
That first day-into-night, I was wearing my Converse All-Stars and drainpipe jeans and a purple T-shirt with paint splattered all over it, but I didn’t have time to change. Also, to be honest, I don’t care about shit like that. Sure, I’ll wear the sparkly gown, especially if it’s a freebie. But I do better if I walk into a room as me. Fashion is art, but I’m not someone who needs costumes or flashiness to signal myself. The work itself has to speak loudest.
Irony was, what I wore that night defined my first brush with the press. Everyone ended up writing about Addison Stone—the “Maynard winner” and the “Chandelier Girl” and “hot young artist”—who showed up to her first opening looking like a junkie. Hand to God, I didn’t care. I looked bad, but I looked good, you know? I came through the door exactly the way I wanted.
CARINE FRATEPIETRO: I was born in Lyon, France, but now I have homes everywhere. Or maybe my home is on airplanes. My life is hectic. I raised my son Zach in this jet-set lifestyle. Italy one day, Miami the next. When all your passion is art, you are always tracking in search of the next new star. I do believe that my son benefitted from a global education, but some days, I wonder if the whole craziness of Zach and Addison was because he was too used to the game of pursuit.
I was an artist long ago, before I learned that my real gift is my eye. I see what others don’t. My private collection was recently valued at two hundred million. I will tell you now, it’s worth more—though it is never good for people to know how much money you have. Addison Stone’s chandelier video was youth and beauty and laughing in the face of death. Her portrait paintings showed immense knowledge, sensitivity, and sensuality. She was too young for such breadth. I did not believe it. But my eye knew not to look away.
That night of her opening, I had a dinner engagement. It was Zach who met her first. Momentous, yes? Suddenly they were together all the time, the magazines, gossip sites … it seemed that all at once, the world revolved around Addison and my son. Zach is a party boy. It’s not good to present yourself to the world as a party girl because of the company you keep. But that sword was double-edged, no? Because my son will never shake his fateful connection with Addison Stone.
ZACH FRATEPIETRO: When my mother can’t be at openings, she likes me to go for her. She’s old-school European, and so she thinks a member of the family should always be present, to act as host. The art world is tiny and powerful, and I have a good eye, too. I’m more serious than the press makes me out to be. My biggest career issue is that the press hates society kids. They think we’re trust puppies. The press started calling me “Zach Frat” and “Zach Brat” all the way back when I was at Collegiate. But I only party as hard as the next guy.
Zach Frat, New York, courtesy of Alexandre Norton.
Alexandre Norton’s family has even more money than mine, and they never give him the shit they give me, because Alex doesn’t strive to be more than a good-time guy. I’m serious about my future. People don’t understand that your last name only gets your foot in the door, which can be a blessing and a curse. Being the “son-of” is a pretty limited narrative. And people want you to fail on that; people judge you harder. People assume you get all the breaks. Addison wasn’t my easy break—I found her all on my own. I was onto Addison before Carine or any of the gallerinas had her on their radars. I’d seen pictures of Addison. She was so hot. Sometimes Russian looking, other times South American, sometimes Asian or French. I never knew a girl who could look so many different ways. With those glittering eyes and that secret smile.
Talking Head went for a joke price. I think Addison sold it to us for six thousand or something? She wasn’t with Max Berger at that point, so my mother bought it outright. Cheap as it was, Addison was still the featured star at the group show my mother was exhibiting through Berger Galleries. They exhibit and sometimes resell our private collection, along with their own pieces.
There were a lot of up-and-comers that night, and I’d handpicked most of the art on the walls. But Addison was my It Girl. She was my discovery.
ARLENE FIELDBENDER: Bill and I set it up. We are both guilty as charged. Can you blame us? It was too easy. We clipped a few photographs of Addison, along with her recent press and a scan of some of her portfolio pieces, and we emailed everything with a note to Zach Fratepietro. We knew her face would catch his attention, and we knew he bought art on behalf of his mother. The ball was rolling so fast and hard with Addison. Getting her into a real New York show was absolutely the next piece of it. I said to Bill, “Zach Fratepietro couldn’t spot talent if it bit him on the balls, but he will respond to a pretty face. And then Carine will be able to see what Addison is.” Zach will always be under his mother’s thumb. At the same time, he’ll always be desperate to prove that he “discovered” the next Big Thing.
Of course they bought the piece immediately, because Addison had priced it too low. We thought she could get twenty times that amount, and we encouraged her to sign with a smart dealer, but Addison could be stubborn. Anyway, she now had plenty of money—all the budget she needed to live in New York City. Clothing allowance, food and living expenses, all of it.
Bill and I hadn’t counted on the fact that Addison would end up turning over most of that money to her family. We had no idea Addison stayed poor as a church mouse all that first New York summer. We only found out about that much later.
ZACH FRATEPIETRO: Friday night of Addison’s first show was insane. I don’t know who leaked it. It was the usual gallery opening scene, but it felt jacked up. Everyone seemed to know that Addison was newsworthy. It was like she had this pre-fame. The gallery was wall-to-wall people: the regular money crowd, plus the celebs and the hangers-on in their velvet blazers and stilettos and fake eyelashes and micro-miniskirts, and then Addison, killing it in her jeans and messy hair and paint splotched down the front of her shirt. She was an original.