Art in Teams. At an intiuitive level, we have known how to build teams for a long time. Businesses, schools, armies, churches, they all build teams in their own special ways. For the leader, it is a rite of passage to conquer ones own individuality, to selflessly place the members' interests above ones own, and to place the team's interests above those of the members.

Building teams is not easy. Job adverts say "must be a team player," but does anyone know what that means? It means subverting your own interests to the goals and needs of the group. Communism in the very heart of capitalism, as it were, and although it sounds nice and cosy, it is devilishly difficult to achieve.

Partly, it's the inherent individualism in all of us, that which is is part and parcel of our humanity. We strive for individual success, because at the end of the day, it is our success, our pension, our life. Yet, we also do best for ourselves when we cooperate in ways that preserve our independence.

Nowhere is the contrast between deep human individualism and broad teamwork more apparent than in art. It would seem that from day one, the artist is trained to be the lonely individual, wholely, completely, utterly. This may make some sense, as economically, the signature is what counts. The individual wields the signature. And, the signature is one artist, one mind, one creative spirit. Your entire art career is a product of beating your fellow artist, and claiming all for yourself.

Teams and Artists. The conundrum of teams and artists faced us in Mexico City this last June. At the 5th Int. Festival of Cabaret we presented The Value of Art, a game show of competing ideas, for competing artists.

Art is about money, and we decided to create teams by that most symbolic use of money in the art world -- the auction. Instead of auctioning works by artists, we auctioned the artists themselves; a sly comment, perhaps, on their own value and how far they would be willing to "sell themselves" for success in art.

To start, 5 artists were selected to lead 5 teams, some by choice and others by turning up earliest. Each leader was given 9 tokens of Feather Money. This was a variant on our old favourite of flower money, with feathers carefully laminated in plastic. From a monetary perspective, these only had the value that we gave them, and that was established by what followed.

Our door crew, adroit in the fine arte of Caberet, introduced each new arrival through a ritual of Austrian Schnapps as apéritif, fraudulent contract signing, and finally onto my stage, where I, Auctioneer of Artists, awaited with toy plastic hammer at the ready.

With each, I politely asked the person's name, and explained that they were to be sold at auction. Then, I yelled loudly and rudely at the 5 tables: "Who will bid on this fine specimen? Do I hear Two Feathers for the lovely Dolores?" With enough shouting and teasing, teams responded with bids, and the auction entered full flow. "Two," would yell one table, "Three" another, or more likely, Dos, Dos and Tres Plumas because it was all in Spanish.

In money as in art, secret perversions and dollops of public chaos are the essence of preservation. Teams quickly reminded me to collect the sale price, and when feather funds ran low, assets were sold: beer, thankfully, but also designer clothing, consumer items and even sexual favours. Some artists were sold with extra Feathers, and whenever I spotted sharing and harmony on the rise, I threw a few Feathers around to shake things up, it being important to establish my credibility as the responsible central banker of the feathered economy. Immense fun was had by all, including loud arguments about breaches of the rules, favouritism and corruption on the part of the most plumed one.

The Team as Art. I do not know whether this would work everywhere. Would the teams survive the night? Would it work with non-artists? If we replaced gregarious Mexicans with self-important Austrians, would they see the joke? Would the lack of an alcoholic primer in a formal business setting result in too much analysis?

In the event, in team-building terms, it worked, and worked spectacularly well. We took unprepared people and pushed them into a stressful situation; we broke through the cultural individualism of the singular artist, we bonded little twinkling stars into bright new constellations of talent. In those 40 short minutes until "tercera llamada" and the show started in earnest, we got the artists thinking about the core elements of art: money, cheating, deception and fraud.

Our goal was met. It was, in fact, the fastest I've ever seen teams bond. Economics has an age-old truism, that the value is best proven in the price, and the sacrifice of valuable Feathers paid for each new Purchased Artist ensured their high value. It was also a heart-warming experience to participate, as each team welcomed and absorbed the new purchases into their bosum, worth as much to them as, oh, sometimes as much as 7 Feathers.