| Hen vs. Fowl |
| This bird builds its nest, using all kinds of things that have accidentally ended up in the canal: plastic twist-ties, carrier bags, egg cartons, anything it can lay its little hands on. When did what change in the nature and nurture package so as to prompt the bird to trade in its previous "strictly natural" instinct for its current "whatever" attitude? The moorhen has clearly carved out a niche for itself in the big city - with a vengeance, for this little bird now displays such a vicious territorial drive as to make larger water fowl turn on their heel as soon as the little rascal launches into its speciality: water walking. Unlike its opposite number of the Christian persuasion, who quite unexpectedly pulled off the same feat, the moorhen is not at all interested in touching base with anyone else. Unfortunately I haven't yet been in a position to establish whether the heron from WR 54 would be susceptible to the moorhen's prowess. |
|
I'm not at all sure whether I should admit to being a member of an examining
board. It's hard enough as it is in less taxing circumstances to formulate a
judgement underpinned by material detachment coupled with emotional
involvement, but how could I even pretend to be unbiased in the conviction
that my collection is second-to-none? Having resolved for the time being to
take my time to ponder this issue, I have nevertheless decided to make an
attempt at propelling you into a spot of ground-breaking thinking by
infecting you with a brand-new art fair concept.
I should, however, probably start by fine-tuning your angle of incidence. Am I representing the common denominator view when I state that the thumbs-up or thumbs-down feeling of the majority of visitors has little in common with what appears in the press? Provocative talk, I hear you mutter? Not really, for both categories feature extremes which instil an uncomfortable sensation in me. I am nevertheless convinced that none of those having a direct involvement will listen to what I have to say, which implies that there's no-one to take me to task over my fantasies and I can wax lyrical. So let us proceed with the preparations. You must be familiar with the notion of art being there for the benefit of mankind. Although many people interpret this as art being there to teach mankind, this is only a matter of time: teaching is useful in so far as it achieves something, but being of voluntary service is something you cannot achieve until you have paid your dues. But enough of all this - let's get cracking. After decades dominated by what preceded the "it's cool once more" syndrome, it's nothing short of remarkable to see that although all fairs throughout the world, even the ones canvassing religion, assume that they are marketing something that consumers are interested in, it remains fully acceptable in art fair circles to try to teach visitors to appreciate something they're not yet ready for. As delightful a quest as this clearly is, it nevertheless does nothing for the mood of the noble crusaders themselves, who behave like unsmiling saviours who day in, day out grimly chomp their way through a bowlful of lumpy porridge by way of breakfast. This calls for something to get these people on board as well. I hasten to add, by the way, that the practical situation is a good deal more complex, but the sense of relief created by my solution will be all the greater for it. It is key, however, that I should succeed in convincing all those involved in the compilation of art fairs that notwithstanding their instrument of exclusion, examining boards have failed in improving both the world at large and the world of art. This calls for a slight compromise on my part, in that I will have to leave the examining boards themselves intact and even take their recommendations to heart - with a small yet vital difference in that rather than admitting or excluding contributions, the board will henceforth classify the applicants into two categories. The outcome of this selection procedure can be seen on your map of the trade fair premises. Having had your admission ticket punched, stamped or torn, you amble into a wide avenue on the left of which you can admire the approved portion of applicants whereas all those who have in the eyes of the examining board failed to meet the quality criteria have been relegated to the right: rather than being ousted, they have now been classified. Of course my suggestion will initially spark a vehemently averse reaction, not just from the rejects but even more vehemently so from those who have been approved, for what art gallery worth its salt would want to come out on top at the expense of a fellow gallery having been given the thumbs down? But all this is merely a matter of getting used to. The moment will come when there will be no greater accolade than that of having successfully crossed over from the rejected to the approved section. It should be borne in mind in this context that true martyrdom is suffered in public, for if everything pans out the way I hope it will, this novel approach will spark an all-encompassing battle. Perhaps a rectangular waterway should be installed between the two sections to calm irate tempers and enable those claiming to be able to walk on water to give an impromptu demonstration. Pamphlets will once more be penned while the cobwebs will be blown off bogged-down innovative drives. This in turn will involve greater numbers of people than ever before in art and attract unparalleled visitor numbers. I have to admit that I haven't the faintest idea as to whether this would be Good or Bad for Art. Then again I have been wondering for decades, somewhere in the recesses of my brain, whether mankind wouldn't be happier if others weren't always slagging off its carefree preferences. |