Art Gallery Ramblings

I work at an art gallery. And while this job is probably the easiest thing I've ever done for money and it affords me free time to rant on this damn thing, I manage to find fault with it. Mind you it is certainly not enough to make me quit or anything. Far from it. It's just one of those occupational hazards that most people have to deal with. That hazard is as follows:

People.

And I ain't talkin' about the magazine. What is it with people? Maybe it's just the people who come here, but they all seem excessively angry and impatient. I get interrupted all the time, even while answering the phone and saying "Good afternoon, Art Gallery of Sudbury, Andrew speaking." I rarely get past the "gallery" before the caller jumps in. "What time do you close?" "Do you have anything by Ivan Wheale?" "Why don't you have anything by Ivan Wheale?" "Where can I see some Ivan Wheale?" "I bought a painting of a tree at a garage sale for 50 cents and I want you to tell me if it's worth anything." "What do you mean you don't do appraisals?" "Well now what am I supposed to do?"

And those are just the people on the phones. The people who come in are even worse sometimes. There's a sign which says "Admission" right in front of them, yet they walk right on by and I have to yell at them to come back and pay the $5, which they then complain is ridiculous. The temptation is almost overwhelming to ask them if they'd just walk into a movie theater or a concert without paying. But I don't want to be one of those people who talks bigger than they act, so I WILL do that the next time that someone makes a stink about five measly dollars. Besides, the five dollar fee is only for this one exhibition. Usually it's $3, which some people make an even bigger issue out of.

But the absolute worst have been the times when we have an exhibit on that doesn't consist solely of paintings of landscapes. I've had people come to see an experimental project and demand their money back because "That isn't art." Our conversation went something like this:

Them: Um, can we have our money back?

Me: Uhhh.... is there something wrong?

Them: We came here to see art.

Me: Do you mean paintings?

Them: Yeah. We've never been here before, and that isn't art. So, can we have our money back?

Me: Yeah, I guess so. (grudgingly hands back their six dollars) But just so you know, that is a form of art.

To which they kind of scoffed and headed for the exit. Luckily the boss had been standing nearby and came over to declare them airheads alongside me. That's always comforting when the big boss agrees with you. The old adage about customers is so so so so so so so wrong. One other line I've always wanted to use on an angry customer: "Would you like me to get the manager so that they can tell you the exact same thing I just did?" sigh....One of these days.

But the creme de la creme of downright goofy people came in this form:

We were in the process of setting up an exhibit in the main gallery, so naturally there are tools, screws, nails, plaster, and works of art all over the place. In an attempt to keep out the public, we put up a portable wall in front of the door. In ordr to get to the upper floor where an exhibit was showing, people would have to use the back stairway. Seeing as most people tend to ignore me, or at least give me the barest sign of recognition, I decided to double the effect of the wall by posting a sign on it stating the detour.

While I was speaking with a woman about summer classes, a man was delivering his daughter to class (15 minutes late). He rushed past my desk and found himself confronted with the wall. Cursing, he began to try to move it out of his way. I excused myself from my conversation and informed the man about the back stairs. He then cursed me and told me that if there was a different way to go, then I should have put up a sign about it.

Well, such is life. I feel much better following this cathartic episode. However, I will continue to be baffeled by human nature. Reading from Life of Pi by Yann Martel, one remark rings particularly true. This is an approximate quote. I'll look it up and change it later:

"There was a sign outside the zoo that my father had put up. In large red letters it read 'Do you know what the most dangerous animal in the zoo is?' with an arrow pointing down towards a red curtain. People clamboured together to peer behind it. Behind the curtain there was a mirror."