Giant Robot Store and GR2 News
9/24 was a special night.
It’s hard to put into words we have for 9/24. Thanks is easy to say, but for us at this moment, thanks means everything. We have to thank the artists involved and the buyers too, there were many of you. We have 99 art pieces and our walls are filled. Throughout the night, many of our artist friends and close customers wished us well.
The evening started with a visit from artist James Jean. We can’t thank him enough and he even modelled the DRx vest. It was his birthday event soon after, but he still stopped by. There were also numerous folks milling around. Who were they? Why were they there? It was the special Grody figure from our comrade Luke Rook, who’s now in Tokyo. He made a run of a vinyl figure just for us. At 6:30, the price list was released and we were pleased at the maturity and kindness by the art and toy collectors. We’ve seen anger and fighting, but gladly all were as kind and “gentlemanly” as can be. We thank them too.
As the night continued, a great array of food courtesy of gr/eats and “mom” appeared, and by the end of the night, the food was decimated. I almost got a taste of something. See the cake? It says “Thank You” in mom font.
Many artists who we support and at the same time, support us came through to say hello. The night flew by, it was nearly a blur. We are touched.
“People at Art openings are pretentious and weird.” I hear variations of this comment all the time.
Either of these scenarios sound familiar? Standing next to a person by the bathroom for 10 minutes and not even saying a polite hello—much less making an introduction? Or even more awkward; standing next to someone whom you know is your Facebook friend, but neither of you are acknowledging this fact or each other? I rarely have this interaction with the same person when we meet in a restaurant, nightclub or even at Trader Joe’s—so what gives? Uncomfortable moments like these have got me thinking. Is it the other person? Is it me? Or could it possibly be something to do with the art venue?
The weird thing is, I go to museums often and I really do love art. I have become somewhat obsessed with artists such as, Brancusi, Dali, Hokusai, Freud, and Murakami to name a few. Yes, these are Masters, I know, I know, and yes, their works are mainstream and accessible, so it is not a surprise really that I like them.
Yet nothing has been more nerve wracking at times for me, than going to an art show. You know, one of those great gatherings, with great up and coming artists, like the ones that you get invited to on Facebook? Something like those. So I’ll get an invite to one of these shows; and having the predisposition of a hermit crab–but knowing that I could use a little of that stuff called “culture”—I’ll throw my Repettos on and venture out from under my rock.
Here’s a dirty little secret…
Sometimes, I don’t even know who the artist is, or even the art medium that I am about to show up for. Quelle Horreur!! I know, I know, but off I’ll go. Then, it will happen that I get there and I have the awkward experience of either showing up way too early; or, being stood up by certain friends of mine (who will remain nameless ahem, but know who they are.)
As soon as those neon, dark-under-eye-circle-magnifying lights hit me—so do the butterflies. This calls for activities such as; typing a faux text on my blackberry; pretending to have to use the bathroom–and then often—just walking out. It’s kind of involuntary. Halfway down the street, after pulling out of my ‘karma good’ parking spot, I will have a little “what is my problem?” moment. If I do end up staying, I am tense, awkward and hyper-aware of every movement of my body. I’m not really enjoying the art because my brain is slowly melting as I try to adjust to being in the space correctly.
New people. Art. Florescent lights. People. Noises. Music. Nowhere to sit. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere to sit. How am I standing? Ahh.
Then, after settling into the place, I will often find myself taking on another behavior, even more bizarre. I will float around, avoiding eye contact, ignoring certain individuals and having light, safe conversations, mostly avoiding the topic of the event that I showed up for in the first place; the Art.
“I saw you but didn’t get a chance to talk to you.”
Huh? We are in a space about the size of a matchbox and are having a hard time connecting?
What a peculiar condition.
Well, having the propensity towards a hypochondriacal nature, I do sometimes self-diagnose. After much self-examination, I have come up with a little theory. What clinically might be known as a form of social anxiety might possibly have a more accurate diagnosis. I have taken the liberty of naming this condition:
Art Show Syndrome—or—with all due respect, A.S.S. I see A.S.S as a benign condition that affects a person’s attitude, posture, and vernacular in various degrees while participating in the Art Scene. A couple of weeks ago, I started an unqualified behavioral study of myself and other art goers surrounding me. Though I have not done enough research to argue what the causes or cures are for everyone, I think I have found a few simple facts that are at the root of my own A.S.S behavior. I will share.
Maybe some of you can relate…