Wednesday morning, 9:30 am at the University.
In Unit 2, Will is squatted on the floor, manoeuvring cables and plugs next to a black hand painted plinth, under Sophie's gaze: the loop of the video Dancing on Kelkule' (B-END) isn't working because of a missing remote, and she's just back from Argos where she bought a new DVD player with a remote; now it's just the case to understand which cable goes in which plug. Meanwhile, Francesca is standing on the ladder, cleaning the dusty and so far neglected surface of the spotlights. We've spent the previous days scraping the floor, then polished by the cleaners, sanding the wall and re-painting it: the long, rectangular gallery looks fresh and new.
All the works are up and ready but three: Habda is gone to Charlotte's studio to collect two and is due to come in at 12-ish. We are adding a new piece, Night Gown, that the artist has just finished, because the left hand side wall next to Dylan's installation looks a bit empty. For a moment, setting up a show looks like furnishing a home. You notice an empty space above the sofa: you buy a mirror or something in a frame. For a great collector, that would be a painting.
The other missing work is THE Odyssey. Not ready yet.
The day before, I had my very first long face when I discovered that the MDF panel was painted at 4.30 pm and was going to take all night to dry up. Moreover, the switches' plates didn't have their gloss yet. That meant finishing the work on Wednesday, the opening day, by 6 pm. Hah.
9:35 am.
My long face and I are at the spray workshop in order to beg Andy, who's swamped with other work, to spray finish the plates, which will dry in two hours (two hours!) We exchange pleasantries, and then Andy makes my morning by saying that he did the job at 8:30 am and we can collect the plates in half an hour or so. I jump back downstairs to meet D.V., who is now officially helping Silvia and has been nominated our guardian angel: a skilled technician, practical and direct person, he will reveal himself to be an essential add. We go in search of a gun...for hot melt glue, not to shoot anyone of course.
11:30 am.
The panel is dried and ready on trestles in the workshop in front of the spray finishing room. Silvia and D.V. are inserting switches in the holes, which click perfectly in place. The gun is not warming up. It takes 10 minutes before realising that the plug isn't working. New plug. The gun works. At 11:46, we have our first test of gluing a plate to a table, to see if it holds. It does. More or less.
12:07 pm.
Back in Unit 2. The video loop works, but there are problems with the plinth crashing the cable and stopping the connection. A big, black, heavy TV sits atop of the plinth and has to be removed every time a new arrangement is made. Nonetheless, Will doesn't loose his high spirit. I get a text from Habda: all well, she is on her way with the works. If we need anything just let her know. Same text from Clementina, who will come in the afternoon. Fran is adjusting the projector's position for Gusztav and Katja's video Transposed Bodies, which in the meantime has been kept playing: although none of us speaks German, I think we now know the lines by heart.
12:33 pm.
I go back to the workshop room, which is 5-7 minutes walk from Unit 2, to see how the plates gluing is going. One line is done. The lines are 21. The switches 160. One line per hour makes...I suddenly realise that the work is proceeding very slowly because of the accuracy Silvia is putting in choosing the right colour combination among the six selected. I make her promise to speed up, then I regret saying that: beautiful things are always slow. From the back of my mind, I hear a voice shrieking: No.Time.For.Cheap.Poetry.Damnit!
2:30 pm.
I bring the guys something to eat and have my sandwich along the way. Two lines done. But, most of the plates have been arranged, it's just a matter of gluing them.
3:05 pm.
Back in Unit 2. Charlotte's works are up and look amazing, I may make some more considerations in a minute. On D.V.'s suggestion, I am putting the screws in the wall for Odyssey in advance so, if they really finish last minute, at least we will save time on the hanging. Will, who in the end managed to fix the video but isn't quite done yet, and I diligently take all the measurements according to D.V.'s instructions, and mark the four holes for the screws.
4:16 pm.
I spend at least half an hour to check that the holes are on the same line: not easy when you have a 224 cm long work and a spirit level measuring only one meter.
I need a string. And blue tack. There was plenty of it but I can't find it anymore (I will find it two months later, in the back pocket of my shopping trolley. And I have the suspect it was actually me who put it there). While the others start to clean up the space from tools and additional dust, I go to buy some more tack justincase and to see what the situation is with the work.
4:30 pm.
Still gluing. Some of the plates have started being temperamental and refuse to stick. The three bottom lines are all done. Plus the first two and some other random plates. I receive a phone call from Fran saying if I wanted to go home with her and relax a bit. I thank her and decline.
5:05 pm.
The corridor outside the workshop bears the marks of my pacing back and forth. Inside, the guys are pitching on.
5:23 pm.
I receive a phone call. What.Is.The.Piece.At? I am not surprised by the hint of impatience in his voice. My calm wears off for a second, but I reassure him that we are almost there, the screws are in the wall already, and all we have to do is to pop the work onto...I don't see any screws in the wall, is the answer.
What?
There are no screws in the wall.
Oh, brilliant. After having pulled myself together, I ask to speak to Will, who explains to me that he prefers to see the work before putting screws, just in case it needs to be moved...I give up for a couple of minutes and report to Silvia and D.V. They urge me to put the screws in the wall.
5:31 pm.
I call Will again. Same conversation. I feel like hot metal between two anvils, and about to be squeezed like a lemon. I run for it, back to Unit 2, and can feel my throat drying off. When I get in breathless, I am not even able to speak: Pu...Scr...heh...Wall...No...W! And I also remember to say Pls.
While GoodWill does that, I quickly fix the video camera that has to film everyone activating the switches in place, on an existing ledge above Russel's work. There is just a plastic string holding it in place, plus loads of blue tack. God bless the Blue Tack. Wish me luck.
5:47 pm.
The screws are in the wall. Will and I are on our way to collect the work. As soon as he and D.V. lift it, a couple of plates fall off.
5:51 pm.
People stare and cars honk while a panel with 160 coloured switches floats about, carried by two rather exhausted guys. Silvia and I waddle behind, hoping not to have to grab other fallen plates. We miss the shortcut to Unit 2 and take a parallel street. It seems to take forever.
5:54 pm.
Artwork approaching! I sprint forward, open Unit 2's door wide and declare: "They're here". There are people in the gallery. Thank God it's just the artists. The others wait in front of the work's spot to finally see it. Great expectations are in the air.
5:55 pm.
Odyssey enters Unit 2. Just one last effort and...pop! It perfectly sits on the screws. It's straight. It holds. A spontaneous though slightly exasperated applause bursts out. Fallen plates still to be fixed.
5:57 pm.
Video camera is on and records my panicked face
and waving hands as the first thing. I cross the gallery carrying the ladder and bump in a couple of acquaintances who came to see the show...early. I am not dressed nicely, have no make up, and my cheeks are bright red. But I definitely feel relieved.
6:00 pm.
SORRY, WE'RE OPEN.
