They look around the room to see who else is there, convincing themselves that those other people on the other side of the room-there, the ones actually looking at the art hung on the wall-are talking big and smart and using art vocabulary.īut nobody talks about the art, and by that I mean nobody is an audience. They eat the snacks on tiny little flimsy plates and try to balance drinks in impossibly light plastic cups with their free hands. They dress in expensive fabrics and real jewelry or vintage kitsch and weird eyeglasses, looking like art patrons, artists, or wannabes to either. But at art openings, people stand around and chat, catching up with friends and acquaintances they haven’t seen in forever. And I don’t wish an audience on every artist. It doesn’t matter what your meaning was, or what your intention was, or what statement you were trying to make if no one laughs, it’s irrelevant dreck and you should try harder next time. My preferred medium, comedy theatre, is interactive, which is a mixed blessing.
It’s too bad visual art isn’t more interactive. Jean Sramek finds an actual audience in an art gallery.
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