Saturday, 1PM.
I open up the gallery. A few months back, I had applied for their Curatorial Open Call and was awarded with a solo exhibition.
As a result, I now have real estate in Seoul; the space is mine for the next ten days.
There’s some wine bottles left over from the Opening the previous night. I wipe away the red glass rings on the table.
_
My friend Jeongmee walks through the door. I give her a tour of the exhibition and then we sit and talk about art, teaching, life in Korea, Cuba and New York City. I ask her about her new monograph, which has just been published.
_
A young woman enters. We speak in a mix of Korean and English. She can relate to the work: her sister married an American man and lives in Chicago. She felt overwhelmed and disoriented walking the streets of that city. Saying goodbye to me, she hesitates and then asks if I’d like to have lunch with her.
_
An older couple arrives. The man asks if it’s oK to take photos of my work. Later, he asks if I am happy with having only fifteen works in my exhibition.
_
A collector comes by, together with an opera singer. We talk editions and pricing but also what it means to sing in other languages.
_
A woman is gallery hopping on Saturday. She spends a good twenty minutes looking,
taking photos and some video as well. She asks me which is my favorite work in the show. We walk over to the photo of the dress shoes. I try to explain that although the shoes are well worn they are shined to a high gloss. And that there is something strangely intimate about them drying out on the street, late at night. There is more to say, much more. But my broken Korean will not do for that. We take a selfie together. She smiles again and bows to me as she leaves.
Later, she comes back in. She hands me a bouquet of flowers with a hand written note.
I can’t believe such kindness and I feel the emotion welling up inside.
_
The day winds down. It’s 6PM and time for me to close up. Just then, a truck pulls up outside the gallery. The driver walks in with the most beautiful bouquet of orchids.
_
Is it real? Or was it just a dream?
Good night, gallery.