Excuse me, Ms. Curator

During a lull in my government work, I noticed the National Gallery was organizing small public seminars at lunchtime. There were never more than a dozen “students,” mostly retired ladies interested or already enrolled in the museum’s docent programs. I suppose this makes me a candidate for such work later on in my years. Homework was involved. There was a reading assignment in advance, and on the two occasions I enrolled, they were always from art books with lots of beautiful pictures inside. I had a lingering memory from my college days of an art history class I took which involved studying the heads of emperors on Roman coins. I had never before nor since formally studied art history, and here I was taking instruction from an eminent visiting professor. She expected us to look at the coin books and coin slides before her lecture; she would discuss in class; then we were expected to examine the images afterward, as they would appear on the exam. As I was a student of texts, I normally visited the library once to do the reading, take notes, hear lecture, then review my notes. Furthermore, my notes were always words, never imagine that sketching an image would be useful. I arrived at my exam, where images were flashed on the screen. I was expected to recognize and discuss them from memory, pictures I had glanced at once for a few seconds, months ago. I was lucky not to flunk. Haunted by this shadow, I headed to the National Gallery’s library to do my homework several days in advance of my lunch seminar. The library is in the East Wing, an edifice of triangular perfection by I.M. Pei and the library reflected this underlying motif. A panel of windows soared from ground to the sky, looking out onto the green Mall. As I signed in with the guard, I could see I was about the second or third person from the public visiting that day. I had been asked to call in advance that I would arrive. I was met by a librarian who asked what book I required. It was available, but in the hands of one of the museum staff; it would be fetched. Dumbfounded, I imagined the scenario. Mr. Junior Bookrunner is sent from the library circulation desk to Ms. Eminent Curator. What could the problem be? A Member of the Public requests a viewing of the Big Beautiful Book which you are using to prepare the Next Blockbuster Exhibit; could you release it to us? Yes! The Member of the Public is so Important, we must release the Big Beautiful Book to her so she can learn about Art and be enlightened Forever. The book was delivered to me; in awe I tried my best to read it, and particularly to look at the pictures, and all in all it was a very satisfactory lunch. (Library, National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC)