What to do with excess space in an art gallery? Leave it alone? Or prompt patrons to imagine possibilities, say, with empty frames waiting to be filled? This might have been the impetus for what was done with one small room in the Art Gallery of Ontario. Well, for me it seems a more literal approach leans toward some sort of pastiche. Framed I happily received an invitation today from My Accuser, the envelope addressed Resident (me), the letter's salutation, to whom it may concern (also me), inviting me to The Public Gallery, namely, the opening of a brand new exhibit of fresh and exciting work from the Gallery's Permanent Collection, the Artist also, as a bonus, to be available for our viewing pleasure. I was greeted at The Exit by My Accuser who instructed me to head up to The Basement, where I entered a small room and presently saw in one corner twenty earth-toned frames, each one containing a unique depiction of the wall on which it was hung, and where I, like any polite Gallery patron, spent less than a minute with each one, long enough to be able to say I understood its subject (each rendered in the current Abstract-Naturalistic mode) and to be able to see in the play of light and shadow subtle yet meaningful differences among them; meaningful, too, the chance to encounter The Artist, who stood nodding at each item in succession as if transfixed by mirrors, occasionally distracted by a call, during which I would hear either a titter about something or uproarious laughter. Once done, because enough was enough, I was led by My Accuser down to the Entrance through The Gift Shop, where I was presented with a beautiful coffee table book of the exhibit, called simply The Exhibit, an out of print first edition signed by The Artist, for which My Accuser asked that I make an offer, stipulating that no bid less than four hundred thousand dollars US in unmarked bills would be accepted. That, or a guilty plea. I reminded My Accuser, as before and always, that I did not know what crime I had committed, which My Accuser again regarded as an admission of guilt (since ignorance of the law is no defence), and promptly handed me the book. I sit on the couch book on the coffee table with all the others waiting to be sentenced
12 Comments
10 more comments...No posts
Who is your Accuser?
Brings back memories.