So Much for Perceptions
I.
I’m walking down the street on a gray February afternoon and I’m in full urban protective gear. I’m referring to emotional gear in this case. A dozen or so yards ahead is a woman, maybe in her late 50s, although a hard life on the streets could put her in her 30s. She is walking and yammering away at herself and I gird my loins for an encounter with yet another damaged soul. As we approach each other, no more than 10 feet apart, I slip on a patch of ice. Not a full face-plant, but a solid stumble, catching myself awkwardly. The woman immediately stops her out-loud interior dialogue to say, “Oh, be careful sweetheart, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” And we pass each other with nothing more said.
II.
I’m standing on the corner with my bike, waiting for a friend with whom I will ride on a glorious spring morning. Approaching me is a young man in his 20s riding a total clatter-trap of a bike. He looks like he’s had a tough night, weaving a bit as he rides. I hear myself judging this guy with an only slightly more generous thought than, “what a loser.” He pulls along side and says, “You OK, dude? You need any help?”
III.
I am taking the train to NY and happen to sit in front of a curious couple.
Quickly it becomes clear they are not, in fact a couple, but sitting together by happenstance. The gentleman is well-dressed and in his late 60s. The woman is in her late 30s and very attractive. Over the course of the next hour I learn she is in mourning for her recently deceased husband, left with two small children. Her husband went from diagnosis to death in 3 months from some form of skin cancer. The gentleman is sensitive and caring, asking good questions without prying – eliciting an enormously compelling and heartbreaking story.
“But I’ve been talking for so long. What do you do?”
“I publish a magazine.”
“That’s interesting. What is it?”
“Screw Magazine.”
“Really! What is that?”
“It’s a pornographic magazine and advocate for First Amendment rights.”
Without a trace of shame or irony he describes his work. They have a most animated conversation worthy of any pair of close friends.
When we arrived at Penn Station, they part ways with a warm handshake and thanks on both sides.
IV. Thoughts
Without comment on the categorical difference between the three vignettes above, what struck me most at the time they happened was the delicious feeling of exploding expectations. This is certainly a device fiction writers and film makers have always exploited. I can’t remember many museum experiences built on this device. I wonder if it can be made to work without being irresponsible to content.
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Comments
I love this small stories. I think they would be perfect for use in docent and volunteer training. We never know who’s “behind the curtain.” These stories would be a great segway for people to remember the instances they have had in their lives and how to “do it differently” when approaching visitors in various settings.
Thanks for sharing.
Good stuff: There’s a fair amount of research on the subject – in science centers we often refer to them as counter-intuitive experiences…..Have seen them in everything from psychology exhibits (telling you the pipe is going to be hot – you feel it and jerk back, thinking its hot, but its really cold), to Colored Shadows – an exhibit about the subtractive nature of colored light – totally counterintuitive to our usual experience of additive color…..
Really liked your stories, and the lesson they teach….
Being open, willing and conscious, and boom – great gifts to be had. Loved your take on this, and yes, what a teaching tool for a museum setting. Now the pros like you have to figure out how.
Wonderful examples. This is just what I would always love to incorporate in my exhibitions. To confront the audience with an exhibition that makes them stop, be surprised, think and go home with quite another experience than they expected.
Thank you for this poetic post. I believe that museums can be good places to play outside of typical expectations because they are somewhat transformative, a place other in-place. I had that kind of experience at SFMOMA in November, when I had a very strange and wonderful experience with a guy named George.
I got a chuckle at the end of your third story–my dad gave me a gift of the book Tales of Times Square a couple years ago for my birthday. It’s by Josh Friedman, a former writer for Screw. A bizarre, energetic, well-written set of historical essays about the late 1970s and early 1980s sex industry–good bathroom book.