Part 3…
I headed straight for the queue through to departures. It was quite busy and the line snaked back and forth on itself five or six times. It was on my second snake that I spotted Candice joining the queue at the back. So how was this to work, did we have to say hello every time we slowly snaked past each other? Did we say hello once, then ignore each other until through to the other side? Did we pretend not to spot each other until we were through and do it all in one go? In a queue moving that slowly, even if you decide to say hello right away, at what point do you begin the hello? – you can easily be close enough to make eye-contact and speak to each other, a significant time before the queue puts you right next to each other, but this risks being mis-read by the others stuck between you, they might think you’re talking to them because of the acute angle. It’s a worry. A combination of all three worked out just fine, then it was on to the bar. Whilst sitting there, the familiar (and not entirely unexpected figure) of Mark Wallinger honed in to view, himself heading for said bar. When I say ‘familiar figure’, what I really mean is, ‘familiar to someone who has admired his work for more than twenty years, read and watched numerous books and documentaries about him and been in the professional situation to meet him on several occasions, but never has, partly due to fan-based fear’. That’s the kind of ‘familiar’ I mean. Ever the sane, fearless, person and knowing what an influence he’s been on me, Candice said, ‘Well why don’t you go and talk to him?’ Of course, I would just rack this up as another close-but-no-meeting-your-art-hero-cigar. It was around this point we bumped in to another of the East Midlands cohort, John Plowman of the Beacon Art Project (a great project you must look at it if you don’t know it already. I was fortunate enough partake in one of their ‘Beacon Bi-Monthlies’ – an event where John opens his house and invites a couple of artists to talk about their work to an audience of whoever wants to come along. There’s beer, wine, home-made soup, comfy chairs and great conversation. As a model for such an event, I think it’s damn near perfect.)
I’m not a huge fan of flying, so any pre-flight preparation usually involves at least two pints of strong lager, but I’d decided not to drink at all whilst I was away. We all know how boozy art things can get and I was going to be in Venice on limited time, with work to do. The hangover induced lethargy just wouldn’t be worth it. On the plane Candice went from telling me how disorganised she felt, to showing me her self-typed itinerary. Lists of opening, shows, parties; it was as organised and well-constructed list I’d ever seen. I felt unprepared, but then I knew exactly what I had to see, as I had to write about it. Anything else I saw would be a bonus.
