A rather unusual late night at the gallery or I guess what I should call the Salon for now. Some random thoughts from the beginning of my personal Art Week.
During the recently ended Fashion Week the Village seemed just slightly more vivid than normal. The cafes, coffee shops and bars were filled with colorful fashionistas in town for the shows. As Art Week begins everything has turned just a bit darker because black, as always, is the color of choice of artists and all their associates.
A little known fact, or a well kept secret, I just discovered is that the Air France lounge at JFK has one hell of a wine selection. In all my years of bartending I don't remember ever having made a french 75 but if you are at the Air France Lounge and not French it's the drink to order. I have no idea why cause they taste like crap.
Here is a bit of conversation in the car back from JFK today. Bernard Z, "So is everybody excited?" Nicole, "Kate forgot all about it." Ash, *rolls eyes. Me, "well". Gwen Z, "Katelyn is a reveur, they forget everything. It is allowed." So from this day forward my excuse for my pathetic short term memory is I am a reveur. It may be true, it may be not be true, but it does have a certain cultured ring to it.
There is nothing quite like listening to French, Dutch, and Swiss individuals arguing over what Chinese food to order from the Szechuan restaurant down the street. One thing you learn quick about Euros is that gestures are as important as words in a conversation and omg they have plenty of them and use them with abandon.
I know a little German to go with my French but I'm keeping that fact to myself. It seems the gallerists from Amsterdam don't especially like the Parisian variety and vice versa and I prefer they didn't know I understood what they were saying. I'm just evil to the end.
This should be a very interesting week at the Salon.
During the recently ended Fashion Week the Village seemed just slightly more vivid than normal. The cafes, coffee shops and bars were filled with colorful fashionistas in town for the shows. As Art Week begins everything has turned just a bit darker because black, as always, is the color of choice of artists and all their associates.
A little known fact, or a well kept secret, I just discovered is that the Air France lounge at JFK has one hell of a wine selection. In all my years of bartending I don't remember ever having made a french 75 but if you are at the Air France Lounge and not French it's the drink to order. I have no idea why cause they taste like crap.
Here is a bit of conversation in the car back from JFK today. Bernard Z, "So is everybody excited?" Nicole, "Kate forgot all about it." Ash, *rolls eyes. Me, "well". Gwen Z, "Katelyn is a reveur, they forget everything. It is allowed." So from this day forward my excuse for my pathetic short term memory is I am a reveur. It may be true, it may be not be true, but it does have a certain cultured ring to it.
There is nothing quite like listening to French, Dutch, and Swiss individuals arguing over what Chinese food to order from the Szechuan restaurant down the street. One thing you learn quick about Euros is that gestures are as important as words in a conversation and omg they have plenty of them and use them with abandon.
I know a little German to go with my French but I'm keeping that fact to myself. It seems the gallerists from Amsterdam don't especially like the Parisian variety and vice versa and I prefer they didn't know I understood what they were saying. I'm just evil to the end.
This should be a very interesting week at the Salon.
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