Friday. It’s the last working day before we begin dismantling the Jeff Wall exhibition at the Fondation Beyeler.
Our shipping agent just confirmed the return schedule for the loans. The de-installation plan that I wrote over the past few weeks is open on my computer desktop. I read it for the 100th time to ensure that dismantling days, art handling teams, couriers’ names and outgoing transport dates are all indicated correctly. A lender still hasn’t confirmed where his loans shall be returned, but I’m not concerned. I’ll find out soon enough.
I leave my desk. It’s time to do one last round to the storage space and exhibition rooms. It helps me focus and find my personal closure at the end of a great project.
I head to the storage space first. In view of the dismantling, over 100 large empty crates were delivered to us in the last couple of days. For more efficiency, the art handlers have sorted them by de-installation date. Now they stand there, in perfectly aligned groups, with little corridors amongst them, quietly acclimatizing. Next week this room will be bustling with activity, but now it’s semi-dark and silent.
I’m alone here. I slowly walk between the crates, admiring their impressive size. Next to them I feel rather small. Some crates look brand-new, others have visibly been around for some time. For me they are “crate-grandmas”. I caress them, wished them a good rest (a-hem, acclimatization) and promise to take good care of them for their journey back home.
I carefully close the door behind me and leave the room. With the corner of my eye, I see an art handler in the delivery area. He’s preparing the vertical lifts, pallet trollies and other tools for the dismantling. I feel very proud and fortunate to be working with such amazing art handlers. If I’m not worried about the dismantling schedule is because they are with me.
I reach the exhibition rooms. They are packed with visitors! They all wish to give a last glimpse at the Jeff Wall artworks. Everyone looks in good spirit. The invigilators discreetly observe from their corners. I can’t help but smile. It always takes a great deal of people, time and resources to organize a museum exhibition, therefore I love seeing the public enjoying it so much.
I move from room to room like a shadow. The visitors are focused on the artworks. They don’t notice me. I stop just a few seconds longer in front of some of my favourite pieces in the show – “Night”, “Mother of Pearl”, “In Front of a Nightclub” and “After Invisible Man”. In my head, I thank them for being here and delighting our guests. I tell them to enjoy the public’s attention for another couple of days and wish them safe travel back home or to their next destination.
I return to the foyer, where a large group is reading the introductory text about the artist. By the entrance, a nice employee is cheerfully greeting and checking tickets. In the museum shop, a woman is purchasing a poster. They will all have a good day. I’m sure.
I shut the door to the exhibition space behind me, and the silence and quiet of the back office surrounds me again. I smile.
I’m ready. Let the de-installation begin.
Comments