I was just at the press preview for the Ai Weiwei According to What? Exhibit that is about to open at the AGO. No problem there. I write less than I used to, but I still work now and again and I've been to a bazillion press events before. They're usually no big deal. You get your snacks, you get your drinks, you get your quotes. You make awkward small talk with other journalists (who all seem to hate each other) and then you go home and churn out your piece. Easy.
But okay, fine. I'm not a snob. Or, I don't want to be a snob, so in to the group I went. And then I spent the next 5 minutes listening to these fucking children ask stupid/inane questions that the interviewee -- Mami Kataoka, the original curator of the show -- tried her best to answer kindly and in good faith (bless her).
Here are just a couple of questions the baby journos asked:
1. How is the show being received in North America so far?
The answer to this question should have been: "Have you heard of the Internet? Want to try using it?" But like I said, Mami was a sweetheart so she actually tried to answer.
2. How do most people feel the first time they see the art?
What? How is someone supposed to answer this? Are we all supposed to be mind readers? This question doesn't even make sense. Mami, very reasonably, answered "Well, how did you feel?"
It only got worse from there. AND as a result, I wasn't able to ask any of my actual questions. I can still write the piece, so that's not a big deal, but seriously. SERIOUSLY, you guys. I am depressed. I am now lumped in with these people. THESE ARE THE PEOPLE I AM NOW LUMPED IN WITH.
I love journalism, you guys. I really do. I don't wish I was dead at all.
P.S. The highlight of the day was actually this creep shot I snapped of Jeanne Beker, who I've worked with before, but who clearly didn't recognize me. Because I am a nobody.