The Smart Trousered Philanthropist…

But first…
Dulltown, UK: Today’s heraldic term is ‘honour point’ – the upper middle part of a shield. Me, I had mine left blank – I don’t really see the point of ‘honour’, in fact I’m not really sure what it is. (HP)
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‘Hello there, good morning, is this exhibition of work yours?’
‘Yes, it is, do you like it?’
‘Well, I’ve had a jolly good look around… I was particularly taken with the conical heap of dirty cardboard coffee cups, I see that you are a fan of Starbucks.’
‘Yes, you see, it’s a time-based piece, as I work day-to-day, I just…’
‘Yes, yes, indeed – and the large blow-ups of demands for payment for utility bills, threatening legal action – didn’t you consider having them properly mounted, and possibly put in frames, rather than just pinning them to the gallery wall?’
‘No, no, they would lose their significance, the perceived and created hierarchy of the publicly displayed object is subject to manipulation only by….’
‘Yes yes…’
‘…and a frame, or an expensive mount, it would negate the raw and extant relationship between the…’
‘And what about those old Victorian prints that you have vigorously coloured in with cheap wax crayons – did you credit the original artist for using his or her work?’
‘Oh?… Why would I do that?…’
‘Now then, what about these plastic bags containing finger and toenail clippings? I see that there is a used sticking plaster in one of the bags too, it seems to have a spot of blood on it.’
‘Oh yes, I accidentally cut my thumb opening the packet of freezer bags – the plaster really had to go in there with the other human debris of existence… part of the process… essential to the work!… You see?’
‘Yes I do, I do… Are all these pieces for sale?’
‘For sale? Oh, yes, of course… Are you a collector, a curator perhaps?’
‘In a sense…’
‘In a sense?’
‘Yes, you see I am fortunate enough to have accumulated, in my life, more money than I could ever spend, and I like to travel, doing a bit of good where I can. I am a sort of philanthropist… My aim is to go around making the world a slightly better place.’
“The world a better place”, that’s a wonderful thing to do!’
‘I think so…’
‘So, would you like to buy one of my pieces?’
‘I’d really like to buy them all.’
‘Really!… Wow! That’s great!’
‘But there is one condition.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes, I want to take them with me, today.’
‘That would mean closing my exhibition, it has another three weeks to run.’
‘Yes, I’m afraid so.’
‘But you would pay for them all?’
‘Of course, I can give you a cheque right now.’
‘Alright… This is marvellous! Have you got transport to take them?’
‘Oh yes, my Bentley is parked at the end of the street, look you can see it out of the window, it’s the burgundy coloured one.’
‘Oh yes… What’s that trailer attached to the back of it?’
‘That’s my portable incinerator, Do you want to give me a hand carrying your stuff out? The whole lot should be ashes in under twenty minutes.’
‘You are going to burn all my work?’
‘Yes, that’s the idea. Just think of all the people who would have come in here to see your work – all that disappointment, the sighing and feeling that the art world is turning to shit, their feelings of despair, the wasted journey coming to the gallery, not to mention the hatred directed at you personally for putting this rubbish on – you, the perpetrator of this whole pointless pretentious shambles.’
‘But, I still get the money?’
‘Oh of course… but, I’ll double the amount on that cheque if you legally swear on oath that you will give up art all together.’
‘Oh dear! That’s a bit of a shock… I’ll really have to give that some very serious thought… Right, I’ve thought about it… Yes!…’
‘Excellent! Now there’s a bit of good I’ve done today! You start taking them down and I’ll go out and fire up the burners…’
‘Oh, by the way, can I video us burning it, you know, as a performance piece?’
‘Certainly not! You haven’t been listening have you!…’
‘Sorry, I’ll really have to stop thinking like that…’
‘Yes you will!…’

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in art, conversation, creation, drama, dreaming, heraldry, history, humour, surrealism, words and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to The Smart Trousered Philanthropist…

  1. I clicked like on this, but I really don’t know what to say further…..its very deep, actually, was it supposed to be? 🙂

  2. Dana Doran says:

    Oh yes! Perhaps these are the “emerging collectors” that I’ve heard about recently….instead of a “theme” for a juried exhibition, they suggested tailoring submissions to those that might attract “emerging collectors.” hahahahaha

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