Mia at MOT
Aaahh, it's Friday. And the end of another fairly hectic week. So it's nice to find myself at a comfortable and sedate opening for a show by Matthew Thompson at MOT. We are five floors up, there's a nice cool breeze in the air and I'm looking out across the fading night sky at the twinkling lights of Canary Wharf and beyond.
Along the way I see Brian Reed and Monica; and there's Lisa Penny and Sally Underwood; and here's Ben Woodeson and Mia.
Mia's lovely. I give her a few kisses and stroke her face. She's likes this a lot.
She's very loving back to me too. We spend some time together.
Everyone at the view notices her. She's so gorgeous and friendly. She's stunning, in fact.
Ben smiles and takes a small lump of food from his pocket and holds it to her mouth. She scoffs it down. Then he puts her on the floor and stands holding her lead so she can't run off.
Mia is Woodeson's 12 week old puppy.
We have a quick look round the show. As usual with MOT it's precision stuff, but somewhat baffling. Reading the press release doesn't really explain anything more. What is that package (above) in the middle of the room? Has it been sent here? According to the release there's supposed to be a single work as a solo exhibition, a publication and the start of a library (I'm not even sure what that last bit means. Is that what the package contains?). There's a drawing(?) in a frame of a banner across a road, on which is written, backwards, the name Caspar David Friedrich. The same picture appears again in a small book in the gallery - drawings of the same image getting fainter and fainter on each successive page. And then there's also a table by Tom Ellis - what's all that about?
MOT often feels like a series of clues to a mystery which I can never unravel. I always quite like that and it certainly marks out a trip here from many other galleries. I just wish I was a bit more clever.
Chris Hammond who runs it has been putting on tough shows like this for years it seems and I have a lot of respect for him. This kind of thing takes a lot of work.
Anyway, I'm trying to get to the beer but get talking to Lisa Penny. I need to write something down for her so take out one of my business cards (an edition of only 1000, mind), but find I don't have a pen. A guy she is with lends me his. A very nice fountain pen; smooth and expensive looking. Which of course I drop. I'm mortifed. I don't think I've broken it but by the way he is holding it up to the light and squinting at the tip it suggests he's not too happy. I apologise profusely.
As I'm walkng away he comes after me, taps me on the shoulder and suddenly rams the pen in my neck, repeatedly, the blood shootin -
actually, no, he doesn't do that, thank goodness, he says he'll come and see me about a book in a couple of weeks. (I guess Lisa tells him that I run the ICA bookshop - either that or he really is pissed about that pen and I need to watch my step when he comes stalking in.)
Me and Woodeson and Mia chat for a bit.
Mia falls asleep.
It seems like a very good idea.