bloggers block

Been trying to write about the mini reunion for over a week now but although I had a good time nothing memorable happened.

First Lynne left an e-mail from Montréal saying that she would be in town and could she give a talk. Due to the short notice could we meet up. This was an inkling of the department when I first arrived as people were always passing through and giving talks.

Then I get this phone call at home – one knows how much I love the phone and how I cannot recognise voices over it. After about five minutes it was Franco who was also returning to Chicago for a bit to see his son. HE wanted to get together with Barbara and John. I mentioned that Lynne would also be in town so. We would all see if we could meet up.

Kept getting flashbacks of the former days as Andrew e-mailed informing me that the cricketing world cup was going to start and he was rooting against England – mentioned that one day cricket it worthy of the kits they wear which look like jammies.

The talk was as usual, those who came liked it, those who came to be seen left early. I had to go back to teaching Lynne tried to recall some Proustian memories while wandering the department – that Madeleine was well mouldy by now.

Likewise lunch the next day was nothing special we headed down to the cafeteria in the museum and chatted, she, Andrew and me for three hours. We chatted about everything. The conversation kept coming, the conservation wasn’t the typical self absorbed type of the new ‘tute but well rounded.

Tried for days to figure out how to write about nothing special or the old normal.

Returning from picking the new grads on Sunday there was a message from Lynne – Barbara’s studio to-morrow – Monday 6PM. Wasn’t really up to heading back in the city mainly because this would mean I would be in Chicago ten days straight – three is too much for me.

Everyone was at Barbaras we looked at work, passed on gossip, I tried not to go on a tirade about the school of the Welsh real estate magnate. It was a given that the retirees wouldn’t set up in it anymore. The closest they get is the museum. Couldn’t blame them. But outside of who is still there it didn’t come up.

The perfect summation of the evening and the psyche of the old department came up and I – despite my inclination – was going to be precise.

Don’t know how it came up but someone mentioned that Ken had a saltshaker sent to him by Joy with Robert’s ashes in it. Barbara produced the same package.

So there we were all passing around a saltshaker with Heinecken’s remains over wine, me thinking the new department would be too self aware to do something like this. With Heinecken there all we needed was Joy and some of Fred’s remains.

Dinner had us going to a hotel restaurant until the Canadians revolted and we made a run for Santorini – their excuse being they rarely have Greek food in Montréal. Lynne had mentioned Jacques Tati in her lecture now we were living it. we park the two cars at the Crown Plaza – a valet comes up gives the drivers a ticket then turns the cars around. We enter the restaurant – now wondering why were are here – announce that there are six of us and while the hostess is finding us a table we make a run for Greek Town, Lynne stating that we had the wrong restaurant as we try to get the cars back and we take turns entering and leaving the hotel via various revolving doors.

Again nothing spectacular about the evening, simple quiet conversation, everyone acting as if it hadn’t been up to a decade since some of us had seen each other. There was no trying to impress each other with our endeavours but quiet passing of the evening.

As I said I was going to have the ashes stand for the unofficial reunion but that Friday at Stephen Daiter Gallery. While looking at the work Franco asked if any other people from the department would be there.

- No. This is too photographic for them. Was my answer.

Sure enough while Ken and Suzanne, Barbara and John, Franco and Jim Zanzi from sculpture were there no new photo faculty showed up. My guess was they were too busy earning brownie points at Schneider the week before.

Now while the department of photography is supposedly dealing with the medium we don’t want to deal with the uncool parts, the parts which makes photography different than other visual media. Well unless we can talk about how influential it is as an arbitrator of taste and bender of wills. We can talk about them a great deal we simply don’t make them.

Left for the train taking out Joãozão and trying to make snaps - it was dark no one would see me.