Murder in an Art Gallery

There are only a few things that truly get under my skin.

1. People who are rude repeatedly, with no inkling of their rudeness.
2. Disrespectful youth so consumed with themselves that they border on extreme egotism.
3. Scheming and conniving cats.
4. Women who start sentences with “oh well… I’m sorry you feel that way…”
   

Luckily there were no cats or demeaning women at the art gallery Saturday because I think I would have been a perpetrator of homicide.

The first two things on that list were found in abundance on my combo field trip to the Artists Alliance Gallery and Ghana National Museum. For my Art History of Ghana class we are required to attend the one field trip of the year which happened to be this Saturday, September 26.

If Satan planned a field trip he would chosen September 26, invited my Art History class, and set his sites on the Artists Alliance Gallery and then tacked on the National Museum to add insult to injury.

I understand that among all people there are differences in the way art is appreciated, but the events I will describe to you were inexcusable.

We arrived at the Artists Alliance Gallery at approximately 8:45 am, just in time for it to open. Our fantastic professor, Mr. James Anquandah had arranged for us to meet with Ablade Glover, a well respected and well known Ghanaian artist, who also happened to be one of Professor Anquandah’s former associates. This friendship allowed us to have a private meeting, tour and lecture from Mr. Glover.

When we entered the gallery I was shocked, and pleasantly so. The gallery was three stories, well lit, positioned with a view of the ocean and full of contemporary Ghanaian art. I was itching to walk around and take in the works bit by bit.

I should have known things would not go as planned when an absurd number of students started flashing pictures of themselves with varying hand gestures and facial expressions in front of pieces of Art. Interesting I thought… does anyone plan to stop these hoodlems? It clearly stated at the entrance NO CAMERAS.

The lecture was informative and entertaining, discussing the transition from traditional to contemporary art, the bastardization of kente weaving patterns in commercial clothing… (Awesome. I was wearing a fake kente skirt that day. Nice move Alexis.) and other topics in Contemporary Art in Africa.

When the lecture concluded the students jumped out of their seats as though there was a winning lottery ticket for the student who reached the other side of the room first. The noise began to escalate with students chattering away, flashing pictures again, pushing people out of their way. I looked around and saw students fondling paintings and leaning on whatever canvas appeared to be the most inviting.

At this point my skin was crawling and I wanted to punch a variety of well dressed Ghanaians in their manicured heads.

I was relieved to find I was not alone. Most of the American students and a few Ghanaian students in my class were staring gape-mouthed as well. Finally I walked up to Prof. Anquandah, grabbed his shoulder and simply said :

“Sir, I can’t handle this. There are too many artists in my family. Watching students touch the paintings, disrespect the artists… I’m about to lose it.”

He smiled knowingly and shook his head. Patted me on the shoulder and shrugged his small frame with the release of a sigh.

Ignorant Ghanaian college students: 1.
Professor James Anquandah/Art-respecting student alliance: Nil.

After the horrifying experience at the gallery I had high hopes for our next stop, the National Museum of Ghana.

This was, to say the least, a mistake.

To save the readers at home from another rant that would be satisfying but unnecessary I will summarize.

Imagine:

1. No air conditioning in a small building out in the African sun.
2. Students desperate enough to write down whatever they see on display placards that they will happily push you over the banister on the 2nd floor to get a peak before their comrades.
3. Artifacts from a few archaeological digs around Africa encased in dusty, fogged over cases.
4. Exhibits featuring descriptions with questionable adjective usage and photos blown up far past their optimal size so that they are pixilated – creating the perfect storm for a vision of something strangely reminiscent of fifth grade science project poster boards.

I love Africa, but I did not love this field trip.

You live you laugh you learn.

Tonight when you lay down to bed, please… pray for the Artists in Africa. Sweet baby Jesus do they need it.