Norton

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.