Eventually I found the Museum of Installation
And with expectations high I walked down the stairwell
I was cold and my head had assumed a lightness following 3 light and bitters consumed at lunch. I was greeted by a row of abstract prints, all similar in design namely pink, yellow and green stripes on a variation, the sort of thing you'd see in Alec Stewart's lounge. At this point I spied Michael, the artist
Hello there, he exclaimed, nice to see you again
Let me explain, I had met Michael through a mutual friend a few-years earlier-
the piece is in three parts, he explained , parts two and three and are through the door
And part one? I asked
Why you're looking at it,
Of course, I am, I laughed,
I was just fooling around, I said beating a hasty retreat, I'll see you in a minute
The second room was brightly lit and was composed entirely of mirrors, everywhere I looked there was me: badly dressed, balding, the bright lights had the bizarre effect of making me appear unattractive - I moved quickly on
The third room was almost pitch, at the far end was a pocket sized TV on the which from which I could hear a commentary, as my eyes grew accustomed to the light I noticed two shadows in the far corners. I walked to the far end of the room - the piece was drawing me inward. The shadows were big industrial fans, the TV displayed a moving collage of pink, yellow and green stripes.
I lingered alone in the dark-space looking fruitlessly around trying think about what to say to Michael who waiting for me at the front-desk. Finally, I re-emerged blinking into the light, Michael was waiting thumbing through the visitors book and reading their comments.
Michael, It's good, I love it, - not for the first time in my life my vocabulary was letting me down, Michael got up and led be back into the dark-room
It's a pity you didn't come when the fans were on, the effect is one of walking through this door is of being in a wind tunnel. One girl was so shaken she literally was unable to walk to the far end
Why are the fans not on then? I asked
Complaints from the office upstairs, its so petty we're only open Wednesdays to Fridays 3 'til 6 yet they still complained to the landlord
What sort of company are they, I asked
Architects,
Right, remembering a meeting with an architect once, that would explain it
The piece still works though, Michael; insisted
Yes, it does, I said, when are you exhibiting next?