The Art of Small Eats
Today is a day of art openings and receptions. How does one judge an opening? Obviously first on the list—what's being shown; however, since the event is billed as a reception I pay close attention to what is served.
At out first mid-day reception three platters of small finger foods appeared on a narrow table replete with a white tablecloth. The first platter looked delectable, but it was all show. I did try another item from a different plate—which was better. My main suggestion to the folks who arranged the reception—less formality. I did have the sense that someone was watching how many of these treats you ate. Fluted wine glasses and wine served by a young woman assured the owner of the gallery that no one was filling up an eight ounce glass of wine.
I wore jeans and noticed that she did not ask me if I wanted a glass of wine. She did ask a rather well attired woman—in heels. Since I truly paid attention to the ceramic pieces a second woman interrupted my reverie and asked if I'd like a glass of wine. "No thank you."
At the late afternoon reception all the food was on a table in a small room off the gallery space. Because the photographs in the exhibit were so expressive and evocative I didn't even walk into the small room for the first ten minutes. Instead I stood in front of lush, well-composed, stunning color. I especially liked two views of doorways in a small town in France.
When I did go into the small room adjoining the gallery I loved the array of cheeses, plates of crackers, bunches of grapes, and plastic glasses for wine. My favorite—the goat cheese on a slim cracker.
Tonight I'm going to an opening in a small local gallery. I've attended many openings there and I enjoy the food. One of the owners loves to cook and she takes out small dish after small dish and puts them out. It's a never ending potpourri of classic appetizers. My favorite—a shrimp canapé.The openings are always crowded and the exhibits are usually engaging and contemporary. People know one another and conversation flows, artists stand beside their work and discuss the what and how of their piece.
Tonight I hope that she makes her chocolate dessert — and that I'm in time to have one.
This last exhibit is all photography—with a theme, faces.
At out first mid-day reception three platters of small finger foods appeared on a narrow table replete with a white tablecloth. The first platter looked delectable, but it was all show. I did try another item from a different plate—which was better. My main suggestion to the folks who arranged the reception—less formality. I did have the sense that someone was watching how many of these treats you ate. Fluted wine glasses and wine served by a young woman assured the owner of the gallery that no one was filling up an eight ounce glass of wine.
I wore jeans and noticed that she did not ask me if I wanted a glass of wine. She did ask a rather well attired woman—in heels. Since I truly paid attention to the ceramic pieces a second woman interrupted my reverie and asked if I'd like a glass of wine. "No thank you."
At the late afternoon reception all the food was on a table in a small room off the gallery space. Because the photographs in the exhibit were so expressive and evocative I didn't even walk into the small room for the first ten minutes. Instead I stood in front of lush, well-composed, stunning color. I especially liked two views of doorways in a small town in France.
When I did go into the small room adjoining the gallery I loved the array of cheeses, plates of crackers, bunches of grapes, and plastic glasses for wine. My favorite—the goat cheese on a slim cracker.
Tonight I'm going to an opening in a small local gallery. I've attended many openings there and I enjoy the food. One of the owners loves to cook and she takes out small dish after small dish and puts them out. It's a never ending potpourri of classic appetizers. My favorite—a shrimp canapé.The openings are always crowded and the exhibits are usually engaging and contemporary. People know one another and conversation flows, artists stand beside their work and discuss the what and how of their piece.
Tonight I hope that she makes her chocolate dessert — and that I'm in time to have one.
This last exhibit is all photography—with a theme, faces.
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