<< | Disappointment. A huge one. like when you were a kid and didn’t get what you wanted. I know. I am ashamed of myself, but I was a little bit drunk in the end. I felt disappointed anyway, before that.
There was just no connection. I mean, that’s what happens when you meet people. Either there is or there isn’t. Some people are very sociable even if there’s no connection, and you can still have a talk anyway. The problem here was having expectations, as always. And about them not being met. I was nervous of going to the that opening. I wanted so badly to meet him, without really knowing what to say. I had just thought taht he must be a great person. I took for granted that if I just get teh chance to start talking to him at some point, we will get along. So imagine how happy I was when it turned out that came to have dinner with us, instead of with the other artists, the big group. That’s when I was thinking – I will get to know him! We even went in the same car, which he drove. And I sat in front beside him. First I tried some small talk... nee, didn’t work. Then I tried the easy one, a connection to his work. Saying taht “ You did a show in Bracelona a couple of years ago, didn’t you?” and connected it to my own passion for food and told him I was so happy to find a really good cooking book on Thai food in the installation, and that I even wrote down a couple of recipies. He smiled a little, but didn’t say anything... so I contnued on the same subject, asking what he thinks about the Spanish food. He likes it...but that was about it, which made me go on babbling...about how much I love Italian food, comparisons to the Spanish... but since it didn't work, I shut up after that. and felt stupid. Ok, so food isn't important to him. What do I care? A lot. I thought, maybe he's tired, or bored. he looked more bored than tired, though. When you are tired, you kind of excuse yourself... don't you? And then we stood there waiting for the others for quite a while, and he did seem bored. He was asking why it took them so long... he was the foreigner, right?... And me, playing the foreigner living in Spain, knowing how it is, when you have a meeting, having to organize something – it's always like this, making kind of jokes...I do that in situations when I feel uncomfortable. I exaggerate, in a way that is meant for them to feel more comfortable, but it just sounds like complaint, anyway. I heard it, and shut up, again. That was when I gave up, I think. When we finally got to the table, I ended up sitting beside him, but it was mostly to give him support..I know it is when you're in a group of people that speaks Spanish and you don't understand a thing, because most of them don't speak, or don't want to speak English. At least not like that in a big group. So, it was out of pure politeness, empathy, but we didn't really talk. And the food delicious, so I was completely absorbed by it, happy to have a reason not to talk. They served fresh fish, simply made, one sort after the other, We were out on a terrace in the harbor, with the fishing boats beside... the setting was perfect. When we moved on to have a drink, I deliberately took a seat at the other end of the table, thinking I don't need to make more a fool of myself now. But then, after people had been moving around the chairs for a bit, I ended up having him opposite me instead, on the short side, so I was all the time reminded of his presence, and my defeat. I had acted like a pitiful groupie in the art scene, in other words, not that exaggerated though. But i think i wasn't the first. And probably not the last one either. I won't go to history because of not really connecting with Rirkrit Tiravanija. |
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