Errbody in the Gallery Gettin' Tipsy

Last week I forgot to mention two items in the City Paper that you're now too late to see: the Exotic Fever Festival at various clubs and Axelle Rioult's "Non Sans Emoi (As I Lay Myself . . .)" at the Gallery at Flashpoint. The Fever has passed, and unfortunately, so has the Flashpoint show—prematurely.

At the opening of Rioult's show two weeks ago, curator Xavier Courouble spoke with trepidation about a private group that planned to rent the space for an upcoming party (taking place during the run of the show). His concern was that the party didn't appreciate that the gallery floor would be taken up by a fragile, site-specific installation of bande velpo (like long rolls of gauze), apples, and a milkbath. Apparently, the group did not appreciate the fact. Flashpoint took precautions to host the party of 20 and navigate the installation space: the party's event manager was on hand, along with a Flashpoint staff member. More importantly, Flashpoint gave the party free use of the theater lab so that they wouldn't need to traipse through the installation.

But here comes the two to the three to the four: As the night wore on, the group eventually trampled the installation. At the end of the evening, they tore it down—like so much "avant décor for the evening," in the words Rebecca Lowery, Flashpoint gallery manager.

Tsk. No word yet from Courouble about what, if anything, remains of Rioult's work. (Rioult lives and works in France.) Venus, the site-specific gauze installation, served as the screen for several projected films; there were patches in which the artist had embroidered words and phrases. There was also one stand-alone nylon floor piece called 2%. (I might not hear back from Courouble—I can't imagine he's happy with my review.) Whatever I find out about Rioult's work, I'll pass along.

UPDATE: Courouble and Rioult sound pretty fucking upset.