Picture this: a group of art enthusiasts, yours truly included, embarks on a cultural escapade to the art institute of Chicago. Rodins, Rembrandts, Sargents, Saint Gaudens and so many more big shots were on display, then there was this chair – a Hector Guimard chair to be exact.
After admiring this regal seat for some time, we continued on our journey through the museum’s labyrinthine wings. But lo and behold, some of our favorite pieces we were hoping to see seemed to have pulled a vanishing act. Mysteries abound, we turned to the ever-knowledgeable guardians of the gallery – the museum guards. “Hey, where’s that Van Gogh portrait that used to be here?” I innocently inquired, only to receive a verbal shrug that would make a sailor blush. “I don’t f***ing know!” the guard retorted, as if they were just as puzzled as I was.
Undeterred, we pressed on, hoping to see a Saint Gaudens sculpture which too wasn’t where it should’ve been. I asked another guard hoping they might shed some light on its whereabouts. Alas, no luck. “They don’t tell us s**t!” came the enlightening response. It was at this moment, surrounded by art and confusion, that my scheme took shape.
If the guards were clueless, why not exploit their confusion? The “Hector Guimard Chair Removal Service” was born. All we’d need to do is print up some hats and shirts, swagger into the museum declaring our expert status and make way with our new chair. And yes, I got those hats and shirts made!
Fast forward a couple months, and I found myself decked out in my “official uniform” at the Dreihaus Museum, where fate would have it they were having a Hector Guimard show. The receptionist got a kick out of my ensemble, the guards however, were less than amused. Apparently, they didn’t appreciate the humor in my newfound profession.
The Guimard exhibit itself was, of course, incredible, showcasing the brilliance of the Art Nouveau master. I still find the whole escapade hysterical, and to this day, I proudly wear my “Hector Guimard Chair Removal Service” hat everywhere I go. Art heists might be a bit out of my league, but at least I’ve mastered the art of absurdity!