oh, that's rich...part II: the pompasity of prosperity
For whatever reason, there are a lot of wealthy people who like to be around beautiful things. They like to own beautiful things. I don't find this odd, I enjoy being around beautiful things as well. Most beautiful things, however, are out of the realm of being owned by the likes of myself, and the vast majority of the rest of the planet. Perhaps it falls to the wealthy to be protectors of beauty, of art, of magnificent architecture. I wonder if wealthy people understand this as one of their many responsibilities.
Along with the innocence of wealth, as I described in my previous post, I'd like to present another vision of the wealthy that many have. Many wealthy don't understand this image...perhaps it's their innocence showing through again, or their naivete. It's a strange sense of entitlement, or of perceived recognition. The sense that they will be known for their own wealth, and their own collections of beauty, and accorded all the rights that go along with that notoriety.
When I was the box office manager for the art museum in Fort Worth, TX. I had the following experience. It was between exhibitions, we had the museum's permanent collection filling the halls. The Caravaggio collection was out, the one Rembrandt was up, Fra Angelico, Matisse, Goya, and Mondrian paintings were all up as well. The ancient Egyptian and Pre-Columbian sculpture was viewable. The well known Asian collection was in it's regular display hall as well. All was free for the public to view.
As I sat there at the information desk, having no employees that day to supervise I had the distinct feeling that I was the cities highest paid information desk attendant that day. There weren't many people in the downstairs gallery, where the information desk was, that day, when I noticed two suited and dark sunglass'd men walk in the door and look around. A few seconds later, a white haired man walked in and looked around. He said, to no one in particular, that I could tell, "Hello, I'm {insert name of very wealthy and well known Fort Worth person here}." There was silence. He looked around. Unsure about what to do, he walked up to me and repeated what he'd said to the air. I introduced myself and shook his hand. "Is there something I can do for you sir?" I inquired.
"Is there anything I need to do?"
"I'm not sure, is there something you'd like to do?"
"Well, I'd like to see the collection."
I then explained to him where everything was, and gave him a brochure. He seemed confused. I wasn't sure why. About this time, someone from the main office came rushing out to my information desk and introduced themselves to the man, and walked off with him talking rapidly and immediately embarked on a private guided tour of the entire collection. I was still a bit confused.
"When he walks in, we're supposed to notify the office." came a voice. It was one of the security guards. The guards had apparently informed the main office, via radio, that he was in the museum.
"Why?"
"We just do."
"Does he own any of our paintings?" I asked. I knew full well that some of the artwork was on loan from wealthy families.
"No." they said "But he's a large benefactor."
Ah yes, I thought, the benefactor. I immediately thought of the days when an artist would have a benefactor, a person who would simply support them monetarily while they did their art and generally lived out their bohemian existence. I wondered if I could ever have a benefactor, I still wonder that some days. The days of individuals having benefactors, or patrons, must be over, I always assume.
But the wealthy can't keep it to themselves forever, can they? They could become benefactors of the world, patrons of the planet. Having money is a big responsibility. I wonder how many wealthy people understand this?Labels: richie rich
