No one had ever told me that the black tiles lining the stairs to the Art Gallery of NSW (AGNSW) capture so much heat in the height of summer that they would make the palms of my hands begin to sweat. No one had ever warned me that its early Greek façade would leave me stranded in the rain without cover if I failed to bring an umbrella. No one had cautioned me that wearing a backpack into its grand halls would result in a breach of delicate gallery etiquette — and a confiscation of my armour.
These observations are neither design recommendations for the state government nor shallow jibes at one of our city’s most famous cultural institutions. Rather, they are the lessons I have learned from going on many first dates at this Gallery. In some cases, these visits have sparked months-to-years long relationships with now ex-boyfriends; in others, they have smothered romance almost as quickly as a text message can be left on read.
So, why do art galleries maintain such a crucial role in our love lives?
My initial tableaux of the AGNSW may paint it as a less-than-ideal place to make romantic first impressions. In such large arenas as the Kaldor Hall and Centenary Auditorium, one might find themselves distant and separated from their romantic interest. They may descend into silence, with nothing to say except shallow observations about colours and shapes. Without appropriate footwear, the date can also become sore and uncomfortable very quickly.
Yet alongside other spaces like the Museum of Contemporary Art and the White Rabbit Gallery, the AGNSW emerges as a frontrunner for first date locations. In a gallery of over 37,000 constantly rotating artworks from around the world, one is bound to strike up a lasting conversation that may progress to a recurring joke on later dates. The experience itself is free, and will not pass you by as quickly as a coffee or lunch meet-cute would. While the plethora of sculptures, paintings, films and interactive exhibitions will most certainly keep you occupied, let’s not forget that they — alongside the all-important gallery gift shop — will distract you from the inevitable awkwardness of getting to know each other.
But do not fear: even in the absence of passion on the date itself, the walls of art galleries are awash with intimacy. One of the earliest portrayals of romantic love in the AGNSW is a Pahari painting titled Lady swooning (1850), depicting a young woman surrounded by her friends and feverish with desire. The AGNSW is also home to two works titled The Kiss from the early 20th-century, one being a sculpture by British ceramicist Charles Vyse, and the other a sketch by German impressionist Lovis Corinth. More recently, artists like Li Jin have endeavoured to portray the more tumultuous elements of romance at each phase in a relationship, with disappointment and stagnation captured most elegantly in his watercolour painting Room for love (2020).
Museums also remain one of the only public spaces within which we are comfortable seeing romance unfold. When its protagonists ran through the Louvre in an effort to set a Guinness World Record, Jean-Luc Godard’s 1964 film Band à part (Band of Outsiders) became a reference for all future directors hoping to capture the confusion, drama and ecstasy of a young love triangle. While John Hughes’ 1986 release of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off took a far more comedic tone, it nonetheless cemented the Art Gallery of Chicago as a site of indulgence, bonding and beauty. Since then, movies including When Harry Met Sally (1989) and Midnight In Paris (2011) have shown us the myriad of ways life imitates art.
There is something to be said for the opportunity to look love right in the face, in broad daylight, surrounded by people but enchanted only by the one standing next to you. The heat, the rain, the noise — it all becomes a kind of pathetic fallacy colouring the scene you are directing. All that is left to do is frame it.
