my scathing review of art exhibition for un magazine. can i get my $200 now?
You walk into the room and the whole room is just colour, painted walls and floor, but not the ceiling, an "immersive something" you might think. The walls are pretty high so you might not really notice the ceiling anyway and that space is reserved for the almost 30 fluorescent lights lighting up the room, hey that's a lot of lights. A lady says to you or your friend, did you notice the colour and you say well, ah yeah.
It kinda hurts your eyes to stand in the room, the colour makes it extra bright and of course the almost 30 fluorescent lights above you doesn't help either, so to give your eyes some rest you look at the white door which the artist didn't paint any colour, probably so that people would know where the door is when they need to make a quick exit from the gallery, as you do every time you go to a gallery.
I was introduced to the artist 3 times in the space of 1 beer which is a pretty good effort. At first the artist introduced themselves to me, then i think a stranger introduced them to me and the artist said they thought I said my name was Emily, but that's not my name at all. The last person that introduced me, I also managed to sign up to my mailing list, so it turned out to be not so bad in the end.
Well I'm not there anymore so I can't really remember but the room was mostly a kind of peach colour and the floor, red. There is one or two paintings, the kind that you could move, on the walls as well. They involved some shadows, some shading, maybe the artist was trying to add some extra depth to their other wise previously flat work, otherwise why would they do that.
After the opening I drove away in my open air sports car. Yep life as an art critic can be pretty sweet sometimes.
<insert photo here in said car> <it exists>