Jesus Christ on a bicycle its First Friday!!! That means literally tens of pretentious people from dozens of U.S. metropolitan cities will be pretending to be interested in art for an entire evening. Oh, it’s a grand event. Aging closet suburban lesbians will get dressed up in their printed wraps and funny hats. Art students will push the limits of getting a D.W.I. on a bicycle. The artists will have an absolutely horrible time failing to sell any of their work while attempting to look “Artsy”. There will be conversations just so people can hear themselves talk, and plenty of people will confuse collage for découpage. In celebration of this monthly event that only art people care about, I pose a question that I have, for a long time, pondered:
Why don’t more homeless people attend art openings?
We have all been at an art opening when the aging interracial bohemian couple enters. The crowd looks upon them in a dismissive manner as they make their way to the beverage table and partake in glass upon glass of two-buck chuck before moving on to the food table. That night’s dinner (and if they have remembered to line there pockets with plastic bags, tomorrows) will consist of plate upon heaping plate of various aged cheeses and deli meats, hummus, and assorted cookies. They could clearly care less about whatever is on the wall, and evidently do not understand the cultural significance of the ex Beatle bass player’s creations of chocolate Santa Clauses complete with oversized butt plug.
I question why these type art-opening appearances are not more widely practiced within the derelict community. It is clear that the hobo’s most sought after possessions (food, booze, drugs, etc.) are also the hardest to convince commoners to gift upon them. When a vagabond approaches a pedestrian there exists only 2 responses, and each with its particular reasoning. First, the pedestrian can give the bum a small amount of money expecting the homeless to spend this pocket-change on some item off the McDonalds value menu. Second, they could choose to ignore this vagrant, knowing that they will only take they money and purchase 40 oz’s of malt liquor, a small quantity of Sudafed, or some sort of poisonous yellowish-white substance. Yet any cultural elitist knows that one can acquire food, booze, and drugs at any Friday night art opening. Often for free!
Not only is the desired sustenance of the vagabond population abundant at art openings, but also current fashion trends illustrate that they would certainly be accepted. Any Saturday stroll through Chelsea, one becomes further confused by who are N.Y.U.’s hipsters and who is the L.E.S’s homeless. Hipsters feature shaggy unkept androgynous haircuts held in place by $6 terry cloth American Apparel headbands. Homeless feature shaggy unkept hair held in place by the reminisce of an old shirt. Hipsters wear inappropriately fitted, extremely overpriced clothes from the 80s. Homeless wear inappropriately fitted clothes they have had on since the 80s. Obviously these fashionistas would have plenty to talk about at any contemporary cultural happening.
Finally, I would like to question why art galleries do not actively attempt to advertise to this population. Apparently they do not have the means to become artistic patrons, but if art history shows us anything it illustrates that they have the means to become artists themselves. Artistic movements like collage, ignorant art, graffiti, and even Marcel Duchamp’s entire sculptural portfolio illustrate that any vagabond has the accoutrements and knowledge to become a vastly acclaimed and highly grossing artist. After all, it is these derelicts that masturbate in public more often than Vito Acconci, shit in more cans than Piero Manzoni, and drag the rivers for more garbage than Mark Dion.
