Audio By Carbonatix
Swill if you will, cuss if you must, but there are certain time-honored social covenants that shouldn’t be broken for Dallas’ (and even less-sophisticated Fort Worth’s) annual homage to the artist — Gallery Walk. Or is that Gallery Night? More an unspoken code of conduct, the guidelines listed herein appear as a definitive set of rules, but when applied, room should be left for liberal interpretation:
1. Wear black to fit in, red or white to stand out — and retro is always respected. But don’t point at those who dress for the heat and have no fashion sense.
2.Don’t drink your limit at one place. Spread it out over several art venues, unless you’re buying a piece of art — then feel free to monopolize the bar.
3. Don’t expect to get more than a cordial greeting, or a backward glance, from your host, the gallery owner. There will be hundreds of people the owner will prefer to spend time with, particularly those with checkbooks in hand.
4.Don’t hold a sharpie or a pen of any kind near the artwork to punctuate the brilliant points of analysis you’re surely making about the art — unless you’re one of the check-writers.
5. Don’t touch the art, unless the wall text clearly says it’s all right. Err on the side of caution.
6. Write down (with the pen you’re not holding near the art) the names of artists you like for future reference. Any mental notes you make will become blurry as the effects of free wine and beer take over.
7. Be on the lookout for hors d’oeuvres in less-crowded galleries that could have been sitting out since 2:00 p.m. The smell of cheese wafting through the air should offer your first hint.
8. Don’t criticize the art within earshot of an artist, because they can’t take it. Artists are shy and not known for verbal communication skills. That’s why they communicate in a visual medium.
9. Don’t repeat any of these overworked phrases: “My 3-year-old could do that”; “I could do that”; “What’s that supposed to be?”; “They call this art?”
10. Attend an after-party if you’re invited on the spur of the moment, or crash one if you’re not. But don’t decide, spontaneously and with reckless abandon, to have Botticelli’s “Venus” tattooed on your butt. That’s the Chardonnay talking.
