The gallery opening

I’m sure that centuries ago, a “gallery opening” was something much more akin to an artist unveiling some expensive work for their wealthy patron and his friends. Somehow there has been a devolution of this process to the point where the gallery opening is all about having a bunch of trendy people pop in, munch on some finger food from Costco and (if alcohol is provided) sip on something cheap from Trader Joe’s.

Suffice to say, I hate the gallery opening. Naturally, this is drawn from the childhood trauma in having attended endless (easily more than a hundred) openings at the behest of my parents. As a kid, these suck given that you’re just sitting around wondering why the hell anyone cares about this crap on this wall that you’ve seen your parents making for the last six months. Mainly you’re just hoping that some other kid shows up, equally bored as you so that you can sit in the parking lot and try and trump each others’ boredom stories or throw rocks at something.

I’ve realized that as an adult, gallery openings are actually far, far worse given that you often end up going to them of your own free will. I have to say that in general, the progression of art in the US is dead and it is so proven by the fact that most any piece in a modern gallery will require either a) a dissertation next to it explaining the artistic meaning or b) the actual artist next to it to explain the artistic meaning. This is not fun and it barely qualifies as art; more like guided tours.

And of course there is The Scene which I’ve actually never known a single person to be part of. I don’t really know who these The Scene people are and despite knowing a ton of artists, none of them are in The Scene. I suspect that The Scene is some kind of roving band hipster miscreants that drift from opening to opening, meandering in the obscurity of it all, foraging on cheap wine and crackers, and procreating amongst themselves to raise a new, even more obscure generation of The Scene.