A hip evening

H and I ventured out into serious hipster-artist territory this weekend (skinny jeans, colored cowboy boots, funky belts and carelessly-flung scarves all made appearances) for a gallery opening in center city at Vox Populi (an 'artist collective' which is, as explained to me, a non-profit to which artists can pay a small monthly fee in return for a membership and a chance to exhibit their work). There we wandered the old loft spaces with squinted gazes, sliding over hardwood floors slowly, trying not to jostle the transparent plastic cups filled to the brim with cheap wine. We stopped every now and then to take a closer look, or to duck behind a black curtain for a constantly-running video, or to try and figure out how something was rigged up. There was a black and white film depicting a herd of horses running around ordinary household objects...the rim of a sink, the top of a radiator -- it was in a dark little corner with giant foam blocks to sit on. My favorite exhibit was an amazing, 8-foot-high wall of clothes that acted like a damn for a huge, messy pile of more clothes (by artist Derick Melander). White ones, on the floor, to light colors, to darker, then to black at the top. There were just so many clothes, it was a bit astounding to look at for that purpose alone. (Makes you wonder how big a wall you could build out of your own clothes....I suppose I don't want to know.) And they were stacked so neatly, we questioned whether they weren't rigged around cardboard or something. They might have been pinned, but we came away pretty sure they were only anchored on top of clothes and more clothes.

I love art openings. My friends and I used to go to just about any we could in college, and I have to admit, I go just as much for the chance snatches of conversation, the cheap alcohol that makes your cheeks burn and your head buzz around angular objects and interesting colors, the little cheese bits and fruit plates that they put out to munch on, than I do for the real art. It's nice, though, to have such a festive, party atmosphere that's centered around something bigger than just the socializing. To be able to wander alone without feeling like you're being antisocial (and, hey, you always have an excuse to leave a boring conversation -- I actually haven't seen that gallery yet. Let me just sneak away, I'll catch up with you later.) To be able to challenge yourself just to the edge of your comfort level with something slightly grotesque, and then come back to the warmth of friends and conversation. We didn't know many people there, but the people we did know were friendly and open. It was a really lovely evening. It always is.