Yesterday I attended WhiteBox’s exhibition closing party. The invitation said:

Author and curator Raul Zamudio in conversation with Mookie Tenembaum.

Please join us at White Box for the closing reception of DISILLUSIONISM, and to engage in a stimulating conversation between Raul Zamudio and Mookie Tenembaum at 8pm sharp. Mookie will be presenting his new artist book, Paranoia. Malbec wines and truffles will be served.

Although I am grateful for the invitation, and it sure was an interesting event, some things just beg to be commented. Here are some curious trivia about the evening:

  • I met Igor(?), the Russian man who “saved the gallery’s ass” (according to the Director, J. Puntes). The gallery’s website hosting company (Dreamhost) was hacked and passwords were stolen. As a result, their website got redirected to what they like to say it was a “porn site” (although in reality it was a rogue pharmaceutical online store). And since nobody remembered the FTP address or password, their site was “kidnapped” for two days, until Igor finally fixed it.
  • I found Mr. Tenembaum’s work interesting, slap-in-the-face wake up calls, quite literal, and obvious. Yet, when I commented this to him, in a good Argentinian way, he told me “it’s all subjective, there is no way I can experience what it is to be you as there is no way you can experience what it is to be me”. Sure. No wonder their country is the shrink factory of the world.
  • The _stimulating conversation_ was supposed to start at 8pm sharp. Which in the art world seems to mean 8:45pm.
  • Even more funny: their scrambling to get the audio for the projection to work, which obviously they had to subsequently mute because otherwise nobody could hear the stimulating conversation. It was also quite absurd to see them wrestle with a light beam, which they tried to direct at the panelists’ faces, completely blinding them, for the higher good of “recording it all on video”.
  • The truffles were cheese and nuts, by the way. Weird how some people off the street just saw what was going on inside, went in, took some wine and cheese, and left, not even caring about the art work being displayed. Sad. Reality.

But, in the end a fun, non-stuffy, keep-it-real evening. Too bad they made so many efforts to keep-it-real. Too many, if you ask me.