The Art Opening - A Review

I'm not reviewing the art. I'm reviewing the opening. Maybe someone can let me know if this is typical for Upper East Side gallery openings. I think this was my first.

I attended this opening in somewhat of an official capacity. An artist that had been in residence at Hall Farm was a part of the show. I like her and her work very much, and she had a prominent wall dedicated to her stuff. First-rate.

Right. So. The scene...

First of all, the place was tiny. There were seven artists in this group show, and there wasn't even room for them in this gallery, much less the loads of people they invited. To give you an idea of how crowded it got, I opted to spend a good portion of the evening standing outside in New York's sweltering heat.

One of the artists in the show was the dude who played Furio on "The Sopranos," which I didn't expect. Who would? I liked his work, actually. It combined the Italian Renaissance with elements of modernity. Furio was wearing a really sharp suit, and his paintings were priced literally ten times what everyone else was charging. And I was scared of him.

Then there was this reality show TV crew there. I asked them who or what their subject was, fully expecting them to reply "Furio," but no. They were apparently waiting for some lawyer to arrive. Why this lawyer? I guess he lives an interesting life. So their plan was to follow him around on a typical day and put together a presentation for Court TV. The TV crew put a sign up on the door informing us that by walking in we granted permission to use our voices and persons on the public airwaves. They got some good footage of Furio and a stretch limo that pulled up. When I left, the lawyer hadn't shown up yet.

The gallery owner seemed to be working the room like a pro. His wife, well, she seemed to be dressed like a pro. I wanted to get a photo, but it actually seemed indecent to do so. She was wearing a gold... top, I think? It almost covered her ample bosom. Her skimpy bra was in full view the entire time (it hooked in the front), and her skirt was high enough to see the hint of butt cheeks. She was in her fifties. She was not unattractive, except for how she put herself together. She made everyone in the room feel overdressed. The artist I knew made a "wardrobe malfunction" joke, but I assured her that the woman's outfit seemed to be functioning exactly how she intended it to.

I would describe the overall crowd as high-monied/low-class. And it freaked my shit out.