My first experience of “recording artist” Anthony Burdin began with a morning-after phone call. On day four of the 2004 Frieze Art Fair, a trusted colleague rang me up to report that an unscheduled, late-night event had been, well, an event. The off-site concert, it turns out, had found its way onto the fair’s special-events calendar as a consolation prize of sorts after fair organizers pulled the plug on New York dealer Michele Maccarone’s high-decibel Burdin booth, which was deemed incompatible with the merchandizing of Hirschhorns and von Plessens nearby. One wonders, of course, how a youngish dealer with the wherewithal to scrape together the fair’s substantial exhibitor’s fee and travel her “undiscovered” talent to London would not have seen it coming. Suffice to say that whether a masterminded scheme or merely a deft save, Maccarone and Burdin pulled off an outright PR coup: For

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