A man asks the price of a large hardback book of Abstract Art. I tell him the price is written inside. Ah, can I create a micro-conversation about Art here?
I say a dumb thing: "Are you interested in Abstract Art?"
He smiles, nodding at the young girl with him. "She's studying Art."
I step cautiously from the booth. 'Cautiously', I say, to emphasise that I did not bound up to them wagging my metaphorical tale all wet-nosed, anticipating an Art conversation. No, I showed a mild, casual interest.
"Who are your favourite artists?" I ask her. Perhaps that was a little too direct? Putting her on the spot? One must be a bit...sensitive with some teens, because many display an obvious awkwardness when communicating with someone old enough to be their granddad. An aura of embarrassment overwhelms them. She displayed mild symptoms in the smile and perhaps a little more colour in the cheeks.
"Warhol...de Kooning," she said.
Quite impressive, the de Kooning part anyway, the likelihood being that her age meant she only had the shallowest appreciation of Warhol.
"Any British Pop Artists?"
"Banksy."
!!!
Before I could muster a polite answer to that, her Dad said "Well, who doesn't like Banksy?"
And before I could bite my tongue the words sprang out: "I don't." With a smile, of course. Perhaps that was offensive. He didn't seem bothered.
"Paolozzi?" I suggested.
"I've never heard of him," she said.
There ended the Art conversation. I retreated to the booth and Dad put the book back after flicking through it once more whilst she watched the turning pages.
Black Gull Books, 70 Camden Lock Pl, London NW1 8AF
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