Something has always troubled me about art openings and decided years ago it was just not worth the effort to attend them. However, last night I drove two hours to attend several art gallery openings, something I have not done in over 25 years.
I was looking forward to it because arrangements had been made to meet my undergraduate college art professor there, and was sure I would run into some of the artist’s I used to exhibit with. I was not disappointed as I was able to reconnect with old friends.
On the two hour drive home I had plenty of time to reflect on just why I disliked art openings so much.
My mind flashed back to a time many years ago when I was on a trail high above Georgetown, Colorado. Upon seeing the town and valley far below I decided to pull-off and take in the breathtaking view. The mountain air was crisp and cool with a faint smell of pine in the breeze. The sound of the Aspen leaves rattled in the background. I was in that familiar “zone” that allowed me to slow down and really experience the beauty.
The sound of a vehicle climbing the trail broke the spell and I watched as it stopped and several tourists climbed out of the rented Jeep. They looked down on the city and valley, took a few photos, and were on their way within 5 minutes.
And then I realized the connection.
Their were very few people on the trail in Colorado that afternoon. They stopped at the scenic overlook to look, but not for very long and then they were gone.
Besides the artist’s there were very few people at the art gallery openings. The one’s that did come didn’t stay for long, and spent very little time looking at the art. VERY little time.
As we left the downtown area I noticed that the pubs and other trendy spots were packed and over-flowing on what was a beautiful spring night.
I am not sure if I will live long enough to wait 25 years to attend another art galley opening, but if I do, I am sure it will be the same old story.