By day, Joel Lubin keeps the wheels of Hollywood turning looking after his star clients, as a CAA board member and as co-head of its motion-picture group, but he is being increasingly known as a pillar of the contemporary art scene in Los Angeles. Recognized for his aesthetic point of view and his dedication to the artists he has chosen, Lubin plays prominent museum board member as easily as he does grassroots supporter. His passion for art is infectious, as seen in his ever-growing collection. Here, Lubin speaks with Editor-in-Chief Sarah Harrelson about his collecting philosophy.

By day, Joel Lubin keeps the wheels of Hollywood turning looking after his star clients, as a CAA board member and as co-head of its

WORDS

WORDS

DATE:

SHARE

Twitter
LinkedIn
Facebook
Email

SHARE

Facebook
Twitter
LinkedIn
Email

Sarah Harrelson: What was the piece, artist or experience that drew you into collecting so fervently? 

Joel Lubin: I don’t know if there was a specific piece or experience that drew me in. I have always been a very visual person and, more importantly, very drawn to creative people. I believe it was natural that I would find my way to art at some point in my life. Professionally, I have been working with artists of a certain kind (actors, writers, directors) for most of my career, so that also naturally facilitated my interest in supporting artists in other mediums, and creative thinkers.

Alex Israel’s Risky Business (2014-15) and Carole
Feuerman’s Miniature Serena (2011) atop Yves Klein’s
Table Bleu (1961-63).

SH: Do you make an effort to meet all the artists you collect? Has this ever changed how you feel about their work? 

JL: I always try to meet the artists I support. It is exponentially more rewarding if I can create a connection with the artist. Sometimes when an artist can articulate what their work is about, it gives me more insight and a deeper appreciation for their practice. And sometimes you can make some great new friends. 

SH: Do you have a driving motivation that shapes your collecting habits or is it more intuitive? 

JL: I would say it’s definitely intuitive. There is a visceral feeling I get when I connect to art. It’s always personal in some way. And, as I said before, I find there are times when I can’t articulate why a particular piece is meaningful to me, which is one of the great mysteries of art.

Brandon Landers’s The Great (2020).
Calida Rawles’s Wandering the Wild (2020), at the end of a hall.
Etel Adnan’s Planète 12 (2020) above Erwin Wurm’s Suit (2009).
Henry Taylor’s portrait of a fellow artist Tiona Nekkia McClodden (2018).
Otis Kwame Kye Quaicoe’s To be titled (Orange beret) (2021) above Sarm Derbois’s Saint Exupery (2015).
Cory Arcangel’s Ibiza / Lakes (2016) and Tajh Rust’s Subject XIV (Naby) (2020), above the fireplace.
Joel Lubin in his Los Angeles home, seated on a Charles and Ray Eames rocker chair. Artworks from left to right: Matthew Wong’s Distance (2018), Kevin Reinhardt’s Conversations with Myself, 1963 (Blue) (2020), Gary Hume’s California (2013).

SH: What were the first and last works you collected? 

JL: My first piece was made for me in 2011 by Alex Israel, who at the time was working on AS IT LAYS (his performance piece). The piece, which is part of his "Flat" series, makes up the background of his set and is very Hollywood, so of course it spoke to me. The latest piece I acquired was from Susan Chen. She is an Asian-American figurative painter whose voice is completely unique. I also recently acquired a sculpture by Thomas J Price, a London-based artist who I had the good fortune of meeting while he was giving a discussion on his practice. I can thank Russell Tovey (who has an amazing podcast called Talk Art) in both cases, for making me aware of Susan and Thomas’s work.

SH: Do you have a favorite art fair? If so, why?

JL: I would have to say Art Basel Miami. I love the energy of South Beach. Marc Spiegler and Noah Horowitz, who just moved to Sotheby’s, are friends, so there’s also a personal connection, which always makes the difference.

Generic selectors
Exact matches only
Search in title
Search in content
Post Type Selectors

Not a Doomscroll. A Deep Dive.

Subscribe now for print that informs, inspires, and doesn’t get lost in the feed.

You’ve almost hit your limit.

You’re approaching your limit of complementary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.

You’re approaching your limit of complementary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

You’re approaching your limit of complementary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.

GET ACCESS

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Want more in your life?

For less than the price of a cocktail, you can help independent journalism thrive.

Pop-Up-1_c
Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here
Pop-Up-1_c

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Want more in your life?

For less than the price of a cocktail, you can help independent journalism thrive.

Pop-Up-1_c
Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here
Pop-Up-1_c

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

You’ve almost hit your limit.

You’re approaching your limit of complementary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.

You’re approaching your limit of complementary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.
Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here
You’re approaching your limit of complementary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Want more in your life?

For less than the price of a cocktail, you can help independent journalism thrive.

Pop-Up-1_c

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Pop-Up-1_c

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

We have so much more to tell you.

You’ve reached your limit.

Sign up for a digital subscription, starting at less than $2 a week.

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Want a seat at the table? To continue reading this article, sign up today.

Support independent criticism for $10/month (or just $110/year).

Already a subscriber? Log in.