Turkey Club

It was, seriously, just an art show with a few dozen smashed and flattened blobs of aluminum foil on the wall.¹ I later learned, through titles like Ham & Swiss on Rye and Turkey Club, that each was the wrapping from a sandwich the artist had eaten. Believe it or not, he was in the back room eating a sandwich with the curator when I arrived.

Anyway, I bought Turkey Club and picked it up at the closing three weeks later.

Walking home with the sculpture in my coat pocket, occasionally tumbling it around in my hand, I stopped at the deli around the corner from the gallery. At the counter, eating a BLT, was the artist.

I asked if I could sit beside him.

“Be my guest,” he replied, his mouth half full.

After ordering, I asked him if he liked art. He gave me a strange look and cautiously nodded.

I pulled Turkey Club from my pocket and placed it on the counter.

“I made this here last week,” I said. “It's untitled.”²

“Mind if I take a look?”

He picked it up, turned it over a few times, set it down, and slid it back.

“Looks like a bad John Chamberlain.”³

He looked down at the crisscrossed fries on his plate.

“Sol LeWitt!” I blurted out.⁴

Notes

1. At first, Artist 2 thought the whole exhibition was a joke about garbage. Artist 1 explained that the wrappers were simply the result of eating sandwiches, which led to a conversation about readymades and how ordinary things become art.

2. The conversation eventually turned to who gets to call something art and who gets to claim they made it. Artist 2 liked the idea of renaming an already titled sculpture Untitled, especially since nothing about it had actually changed. Artist 1 admitted he hadn't thought that far ahead. He just wanted to see what the artist would say.

3. They agreed that the John Chamberlain comparison was funny, especially since the Turkey Club artist was essentially insulting his own work. He knew what was up, though.

4. Artist 2 wasn't convinced of the Sol LeWitt reference. Artist 1 suggested Carl Andre might be a closer comparison, especially if the fries were arranged flat on the plate, or Walter De Maria if, by some magic, they were standing straight up.