I’m no stranger to design fairs; I’ve been going to them for decades. But TEFAF is on another level. Just entering the Park Avenue Armory feels different from, say, the Winter Show, which offers plenty of extraordinary furniture and art. But TEFAF really feels like a world apart. I think it has a lot to do with the aroma of money. It was palpable — the intensely transactional mood of the crowd, which seemed to be there for serious business, and the gallerists matched their energy. The Armory looked the part, beautifully decked out with columns of fresh flowers and garlands adorning entranceways, along with a custom-built balcony where guests could have fresh oysters and Champagne while looking out over the Drill Hall below. And then there was the selection: so many exceptional pieces that are probably destined for private museums.
I decided to focus on pieces I would love to live with, albeit in an imaginary apartment — there is no room or budget in my actual one. Everything I gravitated toward was small, except for a magnificent chair made by Paul Rodocanachi for Jean-Michel Frank, circa 1935. Rodo, on view at Galerie Jacques Lacoste, is made of limed oak upholstered in original Hermès tan leather with X-shaped legs connected by a crossbar. I imagined this would be the chair I would sit in to study my new treasures. And there were many.
Rodo, by Paul Rodocanachi for Jean-Michel Frank, circa 1935.
Photo: Wendy Goodman
I was immediately set on fire by a trio of hand-carved ebony objects by Alexandre Noll at Galerie Lefebvre. They included a round lidded box, a rectangular platter, and a rectangular box. Noll was a French artist and furniture-maker whose work with wood made the material feel and look like clay to sensuous effect. My obsession with his work led me to visit his daughter Odile, who lived outside of Paris in the family house she grew up in with much of her father’s furniture. Out in the back garden, his studio was a time capsule, exactly as he’d left it with unfinished work and all his tools. It was one of the most meaningful, inspiring pilgrimages I have ever made.
A trio of Alexandre Noll works at Galerie Lefebvre.
Photo: Wendy Goodman
I always love the art at Karma and chose three paintings for my fantasy apartment: Landscape With Giraffe, ca. 1950–55, by Gertrude Abercrombie; Untitled (Woman With Pearl Choker), 1954, by Hughie Lee-Smith; and Roses, 1937, by Zenzaburo Kojima.
From left: Landscape With Giraffe by Gertrude Abercrombie. Photo: Wendy GoodmanUntitled (Woman With Pearl Choker), 1954, by Hughie Lee-Smith. Photo: Wendy Goodman
From top: Landscape With Giraffe by Gertrude Abercrombie. Photo: Wendy GoodmanUntitled (Woman With Pearl Choker), 1954, by Hughie Lee-Smith. Photo: We… more
From top: Landscape With Giraffe by Gertrude Abercrombie. Photo: Wendy GoodmanUntitled (Woman With Pearl Choker), 1954, by Hughie Lee-Smith. Photo: Wendy Goodman
I was very surprised to see a small John Chamberlain, Tonk #2-86, at Anthony Meier. I would never have guessed I would want to live with a Chamberlain piece, but I could live with this one. I would place it on the table in the middle of the living room along with other objects that feel very different in mood and material. It would definitely shake things up for me in a good way. I never thought I would see a diminutive work by Chamberlain, and this one caught me by surprise.
John Chamberlain, Tonk #2-86, at Anthony Meier.
Photo: Wendy Goodman
I would worship daily at the altar of Alberto Giacometti’s Chaise à Stampa, 1963, at Galerie Jacques Lacoste. I feel this way about any drawing or sculpture by Giacometti — there is something sacred about whatever he has touched.
Alberto Giacometti’s Chaise à Stampa, 1963.
Photo: Wendy Goodman
I know I would never be sad if I woke up to Pablo Picasso’s Visage en Relief from 1947, an oval dish that was cheekily hung above a 2nd-century Roman marble statue of a woman, from Galerie Chenel in Paris. The Picasso face beaming above a headless classical statue was delightful. The playfulness of the face juxtaposed with the drama of the exquisitely carved marble was unexpected.
Pablo Picasso’s Visage en Relief from 1947, above a marble statue.
Photo: Wendy Goodman
I would be extremely tempted to give these two small sculptures from Galerie Jacques Lacoste as gifts to my siblings: My brother Ed would get the lion; my sister Stacy gets the dog.
Photo: Wendy Goodman
I was also stunned to discover the intricate pieces in a lit case at Hostler Burrows were not woven baskets but blown-glass pieces with canework within! How this was achieved is beyond me, but the result is so mysterious and so beautiful. These are the work of Danish glass artist Tobias Møhl. They would have an interesting conversation with the Chamberlain piece.
Tobias Møhl’s Black Net Collection from 2026, at Hostler Burrows.
Photo: Wendy Goodman
I also loved this bronze lamp sculpture by Alberto Giacometti, Coupe aux Deux Figures, circa 1950, at Galerie Lefebvre. The more Alberto and Diego Giacometti in my world, the better.
Alberto Giacometti, Coupe aux Deux Figures, circa 1950, at Galerie Lefebvre.
Photo: Wendy Goodman
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