The very first time I had to press a buzzer, when I encountered a tightly shut door leading into a gallery space, I was disturbed. This was not what I was used to – art galleries were meant to be public spaces; I had worked in one for several years in Bangalore and the doors stood open, through the day. We would take turns to have lunch, or have it quickly behind a shallow screen near the stock-room, during exhibition days, so as not to deprive anyone from having assistance in viewing and engaging with the artworks.
Going back to the closed door – well, after I said my name the door was buzzed open, and I entered the hallowed, AC atmosphere. That particular time, I was not really impressed by the artists work, and I also felt strangely angry, because it spoke about homelessness and was terribly ironical in the clinical, closed white cube. I exited quickly into the thick sea-laden Bombay air, considering the cats and the real homeless people. Fast forward a couple of years, and this time in Delhi, once again I pressed a buzzer, and behind me were a group of student types, wanting to engage with artwork on an opening night. I was let in (yes I guess it’s a privilege to be recognized), but gatekeeping bouncers did not allow the students behind me in. I wondered about it, and asked someone later “oh that’s ok, they only come to drink and eat”… I too was a student once, and along with others, used to make the rounds of any openings in Bangalore. It was a treat because one got to meet artists in the flesh, and see the workings of the real commercial art world. (and to speak the truth, the wine and cheese was usually neither good nor substantial).
Though I am embedded within the systems of the art world, I often question these inbuilt hierarchies, about who can enter and who is kept out. Who can drink the wine and eat the cheese? Who is privileged enough to view and understand contemporary art, and who is a waste of space and energy, not worth the trouble?
Over the years I have heard stories from artist friends, being prevented themselves from ‘VIP’ openings, and feeling cheated and humiliated in their own cities and galleries where they have shown work. Why not make these events ‘invitation only’ and avoid this terrible disrespect?
On the practical side, I do recall the experiences of the other side. In my early years as a gallery assistant, I learnt to spot the hangers-on at art openings – the fake demeanour of the connoisseur, the shabby-camouflaged clothes, the quick glances and the beeline to the bar table. Servers were told discreetly to not serve them more than one glass, but no one was prevented from eating. (Anyway, there were plenty of the fancily dressed too, who consumed lots of liquor if it was being served.) Often these were older gentlemen; the types can be spotted at events at Goa too. Events of panel discussions and screenings, where there is good food and the stomach is filled with samosa and sandwiches, and hot tea. And maybe they’re really interested in the speakers too. Who are we to gatekeep anything – whether knowledge, or art, experiences or food?
Image Credits: https://cooperatornews.com/article/updating-buzzer-intercom-systems