The gallery's warehouse was adjacent to its exhibition rooms and the only point of entry for future exhibits. In one corner, along with various pieces of instillation art, crates containing sculptures, and numerous paintings, stood a life-sized motorcycle, with the number 65 displayed on each side. Throughout the year the gallery held exhibitions and competitions, all attracting considerable interest from the art world and thousands, literally, of visitors from the general public. Art and culture are always a major draw in any city centre.
“It's
a wonderful piece", the professor said, staring at the motorcycle. "Look at the detail the artist has achieved, while
still maintaining a blurry, edgy feel; the raw essence of period,
power, decline. It's...” The professor’s hands were upturned like
a couple of stricken crabs, shaking as he struggled to find his point.
“Absolutely,
the work sums up the macho, metaphysically organic dominance
associated with motorcycles, while showing the abstract creativity
where mechanisms meet art. An almost objective feminine beauty
juxtaposes with subjective function. Perfume mingled with
testosterone.” Daphne, one of the judges, was oozing enthusiasm and
appreciation for the work.
“I
assume the title will actually be, Norton”. The professor
said. “It is after all plastered all over the work, and, I think,
significant in an illustrative way. And clever. The humour of it, eh,
the humour.” He was chuckling now, giggling almost, tutting and
raising his eyes as if sharing some coquettish secret.
“It's
the flux of pluralism that I see”, the professor continued. “Almost
Bergosian. What the eye meets is the most significant, not the
considered afterthought”
“Yes”,
Daphne joined. “That was the thrust of my doctorate”.
“Norton
is almost playful in its treatment of the monolith of modernism”
the professor went on. “I love the humour of its apparent
practicality”.
“Yes,
yes”, Daphne said. “One could actually imagine riding it.
Brilliant. The casting of shadows over so many images of the past.
Great imagination, and talent”.
The
professor was in complete agreement. “Do you think it represents an
opening into other spaces. The generosity and receptiveness of the
60s. The concept of travel, love, thrill?”
“Yes,
but still with a sense of the self critical, of sadness. Look at the
blueing on the those pipes. And the number, 65”.
“Ah”.
The professor had seen the line of Daphne's argument. “The war in
Vietnam”, he said. “Capitalist industrial might and arrogance ”.
“And Che
Guevara, a motorcyclist himself, I believe, resigned from Castro's
government in that year”. Daphne said. “Norton has been created as
a biography, a veil over recent history revealing a
narrative of the abstractive nature of post-modernism. There's a
trajectory over the dialectic nature of the work that necessitates
rapture in its organic preoccupation.”
“Mm”.
The professor was stroking his chin. “It represents a significant
work. We sometimes find ourselves repudiating the hubris of
reputation. Here, Norton is
showing the decaying past in a present function. It has established
facets that can commute, switches and adjustments that mean each time
it is exhibited it could quite feasibly change in appearance, no two
exhibitions will be exactly the same. The allegorical metaphor the
artist has created is breathtaking”.
“Astonishing.
It'll probably win this year by a mile”, Daphne said. “Have you
seen the others? Oil and watercolours, portraits and landscapes.
Hideous installations and sculptures. Ugh!”
And
with that they stood looking at Norton, imagining
the delight of the other judges when they first set eyes on the piece,
meeting the artist, quaffing champaign and oysters, wine and salmon,
and generally talking about the quintessential meaning of art.
But then they both noticed a shutter rolling up in the corner of the warehouse, as a figure walked in. Strolling slowly towards Norton, the figure was gradually revealed from the burst of bright sunlight that had enveloped it. Clothed in jeans and leather, head and face covered in a black helmet, goggles and scarf, the figure mounted Norton and kicked over the engine with a continuous flow of the body. Norton came to life and disappeared through the open shutter. "Sensational", said Daphne. "Outstanding", said the Professor.
