The Art of the "Art Opening"

The Art of the “Art Opening”                

 Or, Can’t Tell the Palate from a Picasso?                                     

No Problem. 

Are you hesitant to attend an “art opening” at a local gallery, or at some other venue with a similarly intimidating name? Perhaps you’ve seen the ads in a local newspaper. Or, on occasion, a friend has invited you.

 

Or once, in some absent-minded mood you put your name and address on some arts mailing list, and the invitations never cease. In this latter case, you may have been enticed by the chance to win a “free professional framing” of your favorite piece. And, then you thought, you really do need to do something about Aunt Tilly’s paint-by-the-numbers number she laid on you last Christmas.

 

In any event, the time has finally come. You’re steeling yourself to make the first momentous step across that gallery threshold. You only wish you had some real, practical guidance.

 

Well, even if you can’t tell the palate from a Picasso, there’s really no problem that can’t be overcome, if you just remember some simple points.

 

(Yes, just a few years ago my buddy Arnold thought a “framed picture” was what the D.A. used to nail his Uncle Guido and send him away for ten years. But, today, after following these easy steps,  Arnold has become an appreciated regular at virtually every art opening within 50 miles. And you must be more sophisticated than Arnold, right? )

 

The first point to remember, and perhaps the most important, is that an “art opening” has absolutely nothing to do with art.

 

Yes, there are paintings, or perhaps photos (or, in many cases, “things no one can readily identify”) hanging, standing, or propped up in some strange way, everywhere. There is someone, and sometimes more than one someone, standing near the center of the gallery, wearing a flower, or some such, that everyone seems to want to say something to, and occasionally, some do. Yes, this is the artist, or artists, as the case may be. (You probably guessed this fact already, so you are already catching on rapidly.) Then there is one or more large poster-like pieces, printed, or perhaps in some odd calligraphy, telling you about the artist and his work. Yes, there are smaller cards next to each hung, standing or propped piece telling you some details about that particular work. (But, sometimes there are just numbers on these small cards. The “dreaded numbers,” I call them, which compel someone wanting to know more about a particular piece to search across the gallery for some adhoc book, find that number in the book, and then read what should have been on the wall next to the piece in first place, including the price of the work.)

 

Of course, all of this is irrelevant to the core of the art-opening experience. And this fact should be comforting to you, as much of the above can intimidate the novice. Therefore, the second point to remember is that most of what you see (and hear, for that matter) at an art opening is irrelevant to the real experience.

 

So, if an art opening is not about art, and much of what you see and hear there is irrelevant to the experience, why go to an art opening?

 

To party, of course.

 

You’re skeptical. How can an art opening be a party?

 

Do you not see people milling around, some seeming to know each other, others strangers trying to “fit in.” Many will be holding glasses of Chardonnay, a few Merlot, and of course there’s the standard quota of tea-totalers.

 

Do you not see the small plates with fancy colored, delicious looking tidbits some will be carrying?

 

Did you not notice the buffet table, probably towards the back of the gallery, occasionally right in the middle?

 

Then, of course, there’s the wine and drinks bar, usually self-serve, occasionally tended.

 

Now, what is all this? Of course: It’s a Party! Or, you might think of it as the Happy Hour at your favorite hangout. In any case, it’s nothing intimidating or foreign to your experience.

     

This is the third point to remember, and a point equal to, if not more important than the first. An art opening is really a party. With “party” (or “happy hour”) in mind you can walk past that gallery threshold with the same insouciance as when you enter The Irish Rover, or go to The Red Lounge. You feel better already, don’t you? Now, get that term “art-opening” out of your mind. Just think “party, party, party.”

 

But, you ask, won’t you have to do something more than eat and drink at the art opening? Will you not have to look at something other than the baked Brie with almonds, perhaps study something other than the labels on the wine bottles? And, will you not have to say something, something seemingly intelligent, to someone?

 

Well, yes. And, no.

 

Of course, it usually does no permanent harm to your eyes, or to your psyche, to actually look at the objects hung, standing or propped throughout the gallery, which are the ostensible purpose of the party. In fact, it is bad form to enter the gallery and head straight for the buffet or the drinks bar. I recommend you wend your way to your destination by looking briefly at most, if not all, the objects standing between you and the buffet and bar. While looking, an occasional nod, or perhaps what might be interpreted as an appreciative sigh, will establish you as one worthy of being there and partying with all the rest. But, please, if you do feel eyestrain, or your mind begins to wander back to that awful class on Existentialism you took in college, or some such mental torture, it is time to stop looking at these pieces.

 

You say, looking you can handle, but what do you say?

 

Preferably, nothing.

 

 Silence in these venues is often interpreted as a sign of profundity. Besides it’s hard to eat all those hor’s d’ouevres and drink that wine while talking. So, silence serves the dual purposes of letting you eat and drink more, while establishing yourself as a deep thinker.

 

O.K., occasionally, more rare than you might think, you will be trapped into a situation in which you will have to say something about something, probably one of the “works” displayed, or, perhaps even the whole “oeuvre” of the artist on display. Yes, the term “oeuvre” is related to those tidbits you’ve been gorging on; so, if you speak about your appreciation of those morsels, and others think you are talking about the artist’s work, so what? As long as you’re not too specific, no one will know the difference.

 

If talking about the hor’s d’ouevres as if you were talking about the artwork seems not to be working (this is rare, it works all the time for me), you may have to actually start mouthing some that at least appear to be “real art terms”. Now, remember, your purpose here is not to engage in any real conversation, which can really spoil the party, but to divert conversation, preferably to switch the person you are talking to into a monologue mode (not very hard, as most people would rather hear themselves talk than listen to you). Then, as that other person monologues, you can appear to listen attentively, but continue to eat and drink as before.

 

Terms to use that may not only further establish you as a profound person, but switch virtually any art-opening attendee into monologue mode, and more important, help you get quickly back to partying, include such words as these: “”Impressionistic.” “Real passion in those strokes.”   “Bold use of color.”

 

But the sure-fire winner is: “Post-Modern.” That term is everywhere. No one has a clue as to what it means, but anyone with any pretence to having an intellect, likes to talk about it. So, mumble something about Post-Modernism, and you’re sure to accomplish your goal.

 

Party on!

 

(By the way, there is no real harm in actually liking some of the objects hung, standing or propped around the gallery. If you don’t have to take out a second mortgage, or sell your car, you might consider purchasing one or two. In fact, this helps assure the parties will continue. My wife, the artist and writer Sandra Dutton, and I have come home with a dozen such works, usually on the low end of the price scale, for our own appreciation, or to give as gifts, over the last few years.)

 

“Art of the Art Opening,” first appeared in Harbor Journal, Volume II (Cozy Harbor Press/2009)