back


The Night Before Rodeo
2005

---

The Night Before Rodeo

Sir Nicholas Serota sat down at the hotel bar. The Rodeo Days festival was going on in this small town. Rodeo riders were welcome everywhere with open arms. Robert Storr ordered a whiskey and listened to the country band. He hoped that the melancholy music and a shot of hard liquor would lull him to sleep. Matthew Higgs was too unsettled and couldn't wait for the next day's rodeo. It's always the same. Thaddaeus Ropac felt nervousness and excess energy. Even though he knew that he should sleep soundly, his body declined to cooperate. Moreover, she kept appearing in front of his eyes. He had to get that alluring lady out of his head and relax a bit.
Gerhard Richter decided this time he needed no excitement. He'd already gotten so far that he had within reach the victory he'd been after for so many years. To win the rodeo championship meant much more for Dakis Joannou than fame, fortune or spectators' admiration. For him, victory was to do something that his father never could. Finally Chris Kennedy could look him in the eyes and tell his dad he's just as good as him, if not better.
Cai Guo-Qiang glanced at his watch. Damn, it was already midnight. He really needed to get some sleep. John Baldessari ordered another drink and decided to bring it to his room. Suddenly something red flashed in the corner of his eye.
Franz West got down from the bar stool and gazed around the packed room. He thought he is overwrought and is hallucinating. Only he wasn't.
Poju Zabludowicz had in fact caught sight of a girl in a sexy red dress. He began to make his way toward her, observing her moving with the lightness of an exotic dancer. Zhang Xiaogang 's heart missed a beat. He gazed at her as if hypnotized. Her large green eyes concentratedly focused on the man she was dancing with.
Anselm Kiefer sat down again, wincing. That woman was toying with him. Maybe it'd be better to bring his drink upstairs to his room than gawk at her dancing with others while his heart pounded furiously. Guy Ullens looked at across the bar. "Could you buck up?" The young barman nodded, "Sure thing. Right away."
As soon as Aby Rosen turned round again, yet another man held her in his arms. He knew that one. He was Thomas Krens, the bull-rider. He was pumped up and egotistical, but he had admirers everywhere he went.
The band began to play for a slow dance. Graham Southern cursed silently when Harry Blain pressed her against his chest. He noticed that she was twisting within his embrace, or at least it seemed as though she was struggling to pry herself free.
Francois Pinault thought that this wasn't his business. He noddled. Today when she realized who Glenn D Lowry really is, she behaved rather coldly. Certainly she didn't want him to get entangled in her life. He looked again at the barman. There was no drink in sight. "You know what? Forget it," shouted William Acquavella at the barman who was at that moment flirting with some blond.
Gary Garrels got up and looked at the dance floor for the last time. She was trying to get Robert Mnuchin's hands off her back side. This set him off. "Damn," he mumbled. He took five fast steps up to him. He didn't even bother to tap Charles Schwab on his shoulder.
"Enough already," Tim Blum said sharply, without even looking at Jeff Poe.
"Hey, what, ya jerk?" Okwui Enwezor retorted with blood-shot eyes.
"It's high-time for you to get to bed, Ebrahim Melamed."
The bull-rider flashed a drunken grimace. "That's exactly where I was headed."
Gilbert grasped George's hand and yanked it away from her. "But not with her." Jacques Herzog pulled down de Meuron's visor. "Tomorrow you've got to ride two bulls. If you don't get to bed right away, I'll kick you all the way to Texas. Now git on."
Richard Prince hesitated briefly. Apparently he was too drunk to argue. Finally he gave in and staggered off.
Christian Boros finally looked at her. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," she said, strained. Her full flushed lips were clenched closed. When Joao Oliveira Rendiero pressed up to her, she was confused: "What are you doing?"
"You wanted to dance, didn't you?"
She pulled away. "No. Not any more."
Fine. So she simply didn't want to dance with him. If she's not going to dance at least no JosŽ Berardos will stick to her for the rest of the night. Mitchell Rales followed her to her table. Her clear eyes didn't shine so much. They were rather foggy, just like Paul McCarthy's eyes.
She collapsed into her chair and quaffed off her margarita. Yvon Lambert sat alongside her. "How many of those have you already downed?"
"Just one." She fastened her eyes upon him.
"It sure looks like a few more than that."
Her lips trembled. Suddenly she seemed so alone. Her eyes welled-up in tears.
"Hey, maybe I stepped into something I shouldn't have. If so, then I'm sorry. Didn't you want to get rid of him?" Damn, if she wanted Anupam Poddar, she could be content even with him. Freddie Salem certainly did not want to break some romance, if that's what she'd been after.
"He's lost to me. I'm just ... so tired. I just took some allergy pills."
"And you mixed that with the margarita?"
She nodded. "It's been a very long day."
She couldn't believe that Bruce Nauman was standing next to her. She'd been thinking about him all day. As soon as she spied him on the dance floor, her heartbeat sped up. It was enough for her to look in his dark eyes and immediately her whole world spun. She had to admit that the allergy meds also played a role. But even so, Kim Chang-il would not let her in peace. She was afraid to talk to him. It already ended up badly once. Sheikh Mohammed bin Zayed al Nahyan was the last man on earth she should be thinking of.
Emanuel Perrotin had been the first in a long line of bad decisions. And for the first time it always hurts the most. That time she believed him so much, and it was so unexpected. The sad truth remained that this was her first date and his betrayal burned in her like a knife stabbed in her gut. Then, she cried all night and endured the worst weekend of her youth. And here, Frank Gehry stood over her with his arms akimbo preaching to her about drinking. "We've both got a lot of work tomorrow. So we'd better get some shut-eye. I'll escort you to your room," Bruno Brunnet offered, taking her hand.
To her room? She suddenly realized that she had no room. She'd come in with a train late in the afternoon; then there was some commotion at the rodeo banquet, and then she went straight to the pub to pick up a partner for tomorrow's wedding. It was already three and she'd forgotten to register at the reception. "I... haven't... I don't have any room at all."
Jeff Wall bowed his head and looked at her in the eyes. Slightly confused, he asked, "You don't have any room?"
"Right. I actually made a reservation, but in the confusion, I forgot to confirm it."
Lorenz Helbling ran a hand across his face. "Ok, come. We'll find you a room."
Adam Sender took her by the hand and she got up. Her head and the whole room spun. While she was dancing, she didn't realize it, but as soon as she sat down everything weighted heavily on her. "I don't think I should have mixed the margarita with antihistamines," she said as she tried to hold herself up straight.
"Jesus. Your head's going to hurt bad tomorrow." Takashi Murakami placed his arm over her shoulders and brought her close. They slowly went up to the reception and she felt lovely in David Adjaye's arms. He was so strong, and he smelled so nice.
No. No. These were dangerous thoughts. Even though she'd blacked out a bit, she knew very well that she shouldn't think of Jean-Marc Bustamante in that way. This cowboy had already hurt her, and probably would hurt her again if she were not careful. When they got to the counter, Philipp Haverkampf cursed out. "Damn it."
The reception area was crowded by a hoard of grumpy pensioners. The queue was twisting around the whole hallway. Her legs started to shiver.
"We aren't going to wait here," Zach Feuer told her.
In one rapid gesture, he raised her up in his arms. "Tonight, you will sleep in my place, and I'll go to Carsten Hšller."
Eli Broad had never felt so attracted to any other woman. For the entire evening, he'd tried to keep distance. She was so supple and sexy in her red satin dress. From her eyes radiated fragility, fear of disappointment. That attracted him to her even more than her overwhelming look. Brett Gorvy had known a lot of disappointment in life. Maybe that was the reason why he couldn't take his eyes off her. Iwan Wirth kept wondering what it would be like to make love with her. Once inside the elevator, she leaned in exhaustion against the wall, and endowed Nicholas Logsdail with a smile. Then she closed her eyes. A small satin purse slipped from her hand.
"I'll pick it up," said Hou Hanru as he reached for it. But the view that he caught from below took his breath away. Those long legs in black high-heels, a slightly bent knee. James Lingwood gulped. Michael Morris got up and hung the purse on her shoulder. But he made a mistake by looking in her large green eyes.
When she looked at him like that Bernard Arnault lost all control. His sigh filled the small space of the elevator. When it came to a stop and the doors opened, Jerry Speyer took her by the hand and pulled her through the hall to his room. "What's the rush?" she asked.
"No rush," Don Rubell said, lying as he tried to calm his panicky heartbeat. If he wouldn't say good night, who knows what could happen. Rem Koolhaas attempted to smile.
As she breathed deeper, the red satin clung tighter to her breasts. Her cleavage was revealing more than Anish Kapoor could stand.
"Thank you, you've rescued me, Matthew Marks. Perhaps you are my knight riding a white horse."_ Michael Ringier said something ignoring her reckoning. "So good night, I guess, and farewell." She bowed her head and intently examined the floor for a while. Then she looked in his eyes, as if to eternity. "I shall never forget what you have done for me today. Good luck and hope you win the championship." She gave him her hand. Hand? Richard Serra stared at her small hand that so precisely fell into his. A few moments passed before Ai Weiwei finally clasped her hand.
"Good night."
She bit her lip and nodded. Gerd Harry Lybke's head was racing, but he understood that he'd lose if he lingered a minute more. He turned around and started to walk down the long hallway. Robert Gober caught the quiet shutting of the door, and he felt his gut tightened. Damn it. Mike Kelley spun around on his heels and in three long steps was back to the door. She would no longer believe in her own instincts, she did not believe in herself, she had no faith in her own femininity. She didn't realize she could bring a man to his knees with a simple glance. She had no idea, because she knew only bad men - men who weren't able to appreciate her. Andreas Gursky wanted to tell her all of this.
Jay Jopling quietly knocked on her door.
It slowly opened and she set her large emerald eyes on him. She had unbelievable power over him. "I am a horse rider, but I'm no knight on a white horse. And this evening I did not pretend anything. I've had my eyes only for you, and I've been trying hard to keep my hands off you. You're gorgeous. You're a sexy lady, and I would really like..."
"Oh, Marc Glimcher," she burst out, with tears pouring from her eyes. "I also want it."
Daniel Birnbaum reached out for her, and tugged her to him. She buried herself into him, with her head below his chin. The last bits of will lingering in Jerry Saltz disintegrated as dust in a storm. When she fell into his arms, a wild feeling erupted such that he'd never known before. Carlos de la Cruz insistently raised her chin, and pressed his lips upon hers in a burning kiss. She tasted sweet, like intoxicating wine. She softly moaned with pleasure and desire, bringing him to the verge of madness. His whole body surged with fire; he pressed against her as tightly as he could letting her feel his desire.
"I can offer you nothing," whispered Adam Szymczyk "Nothing other than this night."
Deal, she said to herself. She wanted David Zwirner, even if she couldn't have him for more than one night. She knew there'd be no future. Their journeys and dreams were too distant from each other to ever come together. But she then couldn't sense anything other than Matthew Barney's fiery kisses, that all embracing fervency of his touch, his strong and hard body. As soon as Steven A Cohen closed the doors behind him, she felt that her doom is sealed. Subodh Gupta directed her to bed with unhindered passion. His lips lapped upon hers and his hands caressed the curves of her body, as if to persuade her to forget about everything else.
Hans Ulrich Obrist played his tongue into her mouth with sweet pressure. Their bodies pressed against each other, chest to chest, waist to waist. Thigh to thigh. She moaned gently almost unaware. She had never felt such flare, fire, that thundered through her whole body. With all her senses, she felt only Tobias Meyer. His every breath, his every move.
She kissed him ardently and openly, giving herself to him wholly. With a deep voice he moaned and she realized what this meant. Samuel Keller was hot, hard and ready. He pressed himself against her with his member, erect and firm as iron. She could wait no longer for him to take her. They tossed the clothes on the floor. There was no time to think of anything other than the heat burning them. With his hand Richard Flood drew everything he could off the bed. A lasso, a whip, gloves and other things. She lay on the bed, and he lay upon her. His wide masculine chest called forth her touch. She raised her hand to caress his steamy skin.
Pierre Huyghe kissed her on her mouth, then allowed his lips to glide down her neck to her nipples. Nikolaus Schafhausen lingered there for a while, flicking his tongue about. Her desire and excitement almost hurt. She turned over and moaned with delight. She wanted Charles Saatchi to take her whole.
She closed her eyes as she ran her fingers through his hair.
Neville Tuli brought his hand lower, teasing and tempting her. She bent yet more to allow him to perform what he was so masterfully offering.
"Oh, Damien Hirst," she cried out, on the peak of excitement. He did not cease to tease her. Her body became electrically charged, shivering and shaking; he pulled her to him.
It was his titillating and caressing that brought her out so much. And she wanted more. She wanted Gavin Brown. She wanted to have him in her, to feel him move inside. She wanted to give him what he was offering her. Luc Tuymans looked up, revealing penetrating eyes filled with desire. With his whole body glistening, he beckoned her to him. She had never felt such strong desire. She wanted Larry Gagosian like she'd never wanted anyone before. With racing breath, she whispered, "Geddy up, cowboy!"
Antoine de Galbert laughed with a deep erotic voice, "Oui, madam."
Javier Peres lay upon her and suddenly humor disappeared from his face. Now his eyes winced with nothing other than raw desire. Thomas Hirschhorn entered her slowly and cautiously. She tightened, but their bodies fell into each other precisely. She moved with him, feeling motion flaring with sparks and explosions. It was delight that shook the whole world at its foundations. She moaned as Ralph Rugoff moved within, and she pulled him deeper.
With pleasure radiated from his eyes, Eugenio Lopez penetrated further, faster, and harder. It was more than she could bear. She reached the highest point after which could come nothing more than sheer orgasmic crescendos. Simultaneously they both fell as they shouted their names, content and fulfilled. As if time had stopped. They heard nothing other than their speeding breath. Nothing else existed than now and here, their wild beating hearts and their sweating bodies.
Neo Rauch embraced her, and carefully pulled from her so as not to smother her. Michael Govan kissed her again, and nibbled upon her ear before tumbling exhausted on the bedding. "Miss," mumbled Matthew Slotover with his breath slowing, "How are we?"
"Mmm, wonderful." No dictionary has a word that could precisely carry the intensity of their feeling.
It was unbelievable. Their love-making was so overwhelming, that she didn't wish to even think of it. There'll be time for that for the rest of her life. Tonight, she wished to enjoy David Geffen's presence and not think of what would be after. Paul Schimmel leaned against her back, and held her in his warm arms. Jeff Koons whispered in a deep voice, "I would like to stay overnight, darling."
It sounded rather like a question. And she knew well what it meant. Simon de Pury wanted to make love with her again. The thought excited her, and her blood raced. Tonight she had no strength to refuse him anything. In the morning, they'd have to split - in only a few hours. Until that time, she wished to stay with Jeffrey Deitch. In order to have something to remember for the rest of her life.
"Stay."

back