Ordinary Art

The Oscar Wilde Theatre was built during the competition over the most eminent playwrights in Europe. It had been a pleasant building, but the entrance was hardly recognizable anymore from the footpath. A massive ash tree covered almost the entire façade. The dark grey stones had not been cleaned for over a decade, and parts of the building had been demolished. Nevertheless, even with merely its remains, the theatre still stood out. The new mayor had recently converted the old theatre into a conference venue and cinema. Efficiency and reuse had been the catchphrases of his campaign. Inside the building, the heavy black curtains barely covered the folded chairs and broken furniture strewn about backstage. A pungent smell from a new popcorn machine filled the lobby. The only other new thing was a sparkling white projector. Rachel could hardly remember the last time that she sat in a theatre. She had been watching her students and colleagues for months from home on screens from behind her desk. On the computer, concentrated light made everyone look older and perpetually exhausted. It was here that they were to host their creative anthropology showcase, ‘the Ethnographic Salon,’ and it felt exciting to be in a real theatre, setting it up for such an event.