The short cut

At about midday while Yaeer Goren a painter at the beginning of his career was ready to leave to have lunch in one ot the restaurants close to his studio, the door opened up and a tall young man about his age entered, and walked towards him in a resolute step. It was one of the art college graduates that graduated a year or before Goren did. He was an energetic type that reached renown in rather a short time.

'Hi how are you?' The young man turned to him.

'I'm fine thanks,' Goren replied watching curiously the Young man's face.

'Listen I want to talk to you about a thing that may interest you. You got time to spare?'

I was on my way to a snack bar two paces from here,' Goren answered him. 'Let's sit there and talk, okay?'

The young man's name was Ehud Assafe, and his quick ascent in the local young art circles lately was known very well to Goren, thus despite his bad financial state he decided to invite Assafe to have lunch with him.

Who knows he might have some news item that may improve my status in the ever growing art community, while I'm still lagging behind everyone. Goren thought hopefully.

Assafe accepted his invitation and they left the studio, and in a matter of a few moments they were sitting facing each other next to one the tables that were set on the pavement, in front of Goren's preferred snack bar.

His guest did not waste time, and explained right away what's was on his mind, the matter was a group exhibition and Assafe was its curator.

'We need one more artist to join us, and in the short time that I've been in your studio I've seen enough works of good quality.' Assafe said and turned back to his plate for a short while, but raised immediately his eyes to his host while munching.

This was not Goren's opinion, he had doubts whether he should destroy the little he had already created lately. He took his time, and did not comment while he went on eating.

One never knows, the opinion of others is always different, and maybe I'm simply not sure of myself. He thought hopefully and looked again at his guest. 'Who're the rest of the participants and where and when the exhibition is going to take place?'

'It's not going to be a crowded exhibition with many participants if that's what worries you, there're two more participants expept you.' Assafe answered him, and when he noticed the frown on his host's face he hastened to add: 'This exhibition is going to be reviewed not with a few words, but with a full review for each of its participants. There's no reason to underestimate it, I've worked hard on organizing public relations for it, and that's its great advantage.'

This additional sentence and the fact he knew the two other participants convinced Goren to take part in it. Above all he is not approached every second day and asked to participate in an exhibition.

He had a few more question to his guest concerning the exhibition's exact date, and the gallery's address; and wrote down his guest's mobile number, they shook hands and with it the meeting ended. His guest went away and Goren returned to his studio excited, to choose the art item he wishes to exhibit; and do whatever he could to improve it, as the exhibition was due to open up in two weeks time.

He did not have much work for truth sake, but calling his two colleagues from time to time, and the excitement that took hold of him prevented his ability to work on and create. He even went as far as to see the intended gallery, and to his surprise it happened to be a store whose owner has suffered a bankruptcy; thus the place was empty, and looked a huge open cave in the building that rose above it.

His enthusiasm has vanished completely of course, and he even thought to turn to Assafe and declare his retirement from the future exhibition. But the industrious curatror appeared a second time in Goren's studio accompanied by a reporter, who interviewed Goren for the promised review in a well known art magazine with a wide circulation.

The exhibition's opening was very modest of course, the ex shop's space was filled with the great performing art exhibits of the three young artists, and several relatives, acquaintances and colleagues bothered to come to the "gallery". The gallery's location at the southern part of town was not sympathetic at all, and its small hall forced part of the visitors to wait their turn on the pavement on the gallery’s front for a short stroll; intil they’ll be allowed to enter the narrow hall to watch the exhibits. In spite of the “gallery’s shortcomes the atmosphere was very pleasant, the promised reviews were published beforehand heaping compliments on each one of the exhibiting artists, as promised.

As far as Goren was concerned it was an unexpected surprise. He did not think even one solitary moment that his exhibit was entitled to such compliments. But just like his two colleagues he roamed about very proudly among his guests, and answered their questions with much patience. The guests’ interest encouraged him very much. The gallery's location and the harsh noise of passing vehicles on the road so close, did not harm his satisfaction.

At about midnight when most of the guests left already, a middle aged man appeared to his and his colleagues surprise. That man was attired elegantly as befits his status, a fact they have learned after he introduced himself, he was the manager of the city's main museum. He moved from exhibit to exhibit with much patience, and exchanged a few words with each of the three participants.

After a short pause of excitement in which the three artists managed to recover, This middle aged man asked each one of the artists to explain his motives and what was his inspiration, which had driven each one of them to create his exhibit. At the end of this stage the three of them stood around him waiting with expectancy to his verdict.

'Who is Yaeer Goren?' That very important man asked, and right after Goren introduced himself to that man, he asked Goren to follow him outside.

'Listen young man I'm very impressed by your exhibit. I want you to have a personal exhibition in our museum.'

'What,' Goren muttered dumbfounded. 'But I haven't any works to exhibit.'

'It's not a matter of weeks you've six months to prepare your exhibition.' The museum manager said, pulled his visit card and put it in Goren's blouse pocket. Before Goren gathered his wits, the museum manager hailed a cab and left.

'What did he want?' His two colleagues rushed to him animated.

'He's stark mad!' Goren mumbled and burst out laughing. 'I've got half a year of hard labor before me.'

. Haim Kadman 2002 – all rights reserved.