This evening, I went to a 'private' reception hosted by a new gallery in town. Happy to welcome the newcomer (I will do anything to encourage art business - if its good for my colleagues, it will be good for me), when the (elegant) invitation was personally delivered at our gallery a couple of days ago, I looked forward to meeting my new colleague.
The new gallery is beautiful (galleries are supposed to be beautiful), and this one didn't disappoint, really. Fresh white walls, open windows overlooking a busy street, the work was spare, minimal (surely there was a message somewhere), the pseudo disco ball made from chocolate was unusual (... a lot like your realtor putting chocolate chip cookies in the oven to entice a buy, you know?), but what really threw me was the awesome cold shoulder from the new gallerist after introductions and 'Hello'. Wow, I don't think I've ever been so obviously or thoroughly examined from head to toe, and made to feel so wanting. So, dear new colleague, thanks for the invite and graceless reception. I think I'll pass on the next invite.