Roya Sachs and Peter Marino.

Roya Sachs and Peter Marino. Photograph by Guest of a Guest/Ken Arcara.

On Monday night, a fashionable crowd of last-minute shoppers made their way to the Paul Rudolph mansion on New York’s Upper East Side for a one-night holiday bazaar hosted by Champagne Pommery and ArtList, a new peer-to-peer online art marketplace. Once the home of late Swiss millionaire and photographer Gunter Sachs and his wife, Brigitte Bardot, the 1960s mansion served as the picturesque platform for a new generation of Sachs talent: Gunter’s granddaughter and the night's curator Roya Sachs. Aided by her co-curator Astrid de Maismont, Sachs transformed the modernist townhouse into an immersive environment inspired by the season of consumerism. “Everything is for sale,” the mantra of the night, was repeated over an over again by a cast of elves, and angels, and men inexplicably dressed in glitter and little else. Walking up the home’s precariously open staircases, guests like Alexandra Chemla, Michael Avedon, and Soo Joo Park wound their way through a maze of rooms with installations by artists like Cory Arcangel and Jen DeNike. On the second floor, Kyle DeWoody and Peter Marino waited patiently for accurate personal assessments by The Bumbys, while upstairs artist Sebastian Errazuriz sold his copies of Sachs and Bardot’s effortlessly glamorous vacation photos with the intent of making enough money to throw a celebration of his own. “It depends on the amount of money I make,” said Errazuriz about his mad-money project. “If we sell them all I have a hundred thousand dollars, so I’m going need the help of my friends, maybe a helicopter, a limo, and some other stuff. If we only sell ten grand we can just find a really expensive club and do bottle service.”

Drawn to the top floor by rumors of an irate, possibly drunk Santa and more champagne, guests were greeted by a character far wilder than his mall counterpart. Wielding a candy-striped crowbar, the blindfolded Santa channeled the infamous performance of Vito Arronci, where the artist sat in a basement for three-hours repeating endlessly, “I don’t want anybody down here with me. If someone comes down to this basement, I will kill them with a crowbar.” Not to be outdone by Santa’s antics, artist Dustin Yellin dropped his pants. “Santa wanted to do strange things to me that my mother wouldn’t approve of and he tickled me with his beard,” explained Yellin, his bare bottom hanging out. “I got confused.” While security dragged the half-naked artist downstairs, Yellin’s collective of Bazaar Teens continued to sell their artful holiday goods, which included everything from a bag of frozen Ikea meatballs labeled “Teen” to a Gauloise cigarette butt framed in an iPhone. “He will be back,” said a merry-maker. Five minutes later—Yellin reappeared for an encore.