Stories from The Gallery: Soutine’s Book

A collection of stories recounting my interesting experiences while working at a local art gallery.

Some days are glorious simply for their sheer unremarkability. They are slow days in every sense, where only a handful of people trickle in and out of the gallery at a time, and there is a sense of hush and calm that fills the space and allows your mind to wander where it wants to.

The following story took place on one of those days, a weekday, about an hour before closing. A woman walked in who I noticed immediately; she was young, perhaps in her late twenties or so, wearing a crop top that looked amazing on her, and had a hip pixie haircut. She also had an interesting face which is hard to describe - if you’ve ever met someone who had a face you couldn’t stop looking at, not because it was wildly beautiful or ugly, but because it just seemed so expressive and emotional, you’ll know what I mean.

I observed her as she walked quickly around the galleries where I was positioned; she did not stop to look at any one piece but seemed to be searching for something in particular. After evidently not finding it, she approached me and asked if the Soutine painting was hanging up just then. I thought for a second but couldn’t recall seeing a Soutine recently, although it had been a while since I had done a full round of the gallery and things move around all the time. When I mentioned this to her, her face fell and she looked completely crestfallen, so I said I wanted to check to make sure and pulled my phone out.

While I was looking up the items currently on view and checking for Soutine, she told me that she had just finished a book about him so she was desperate to come and see this particular painting. I could feel her looking over my shoulder at my phone, watching me type, and that I probably wasn’t moving my thumbs fast enough for her almost shaking anticipation. At first, nothing came up in the search results, and she started making peace with it, saying it was OK, if it wasn’t meant to be then it wasn’t meant to be. But I checked again, and suddenly Woman In Profile, by Chaim Soutine, popped up, on display in the other side of the museum. I showed her this information and she let out a squeak and ran off, crying out her gratitude to me over her shoulder.

About 45 minutes later she came back through my galleries on her way out, so I asked if she had found the Soutine. She gave me a heartwarming smile and said yes, that she was so happy because it was her favourite painting and she had just been staring at it and crying all that time.

My curiosity was peaked by this point, so I asked what the name of the book was that she had read; if a book about an artist had produced this profound experience for her, I wanted to share in it! She looked at me with some confusion, and then replied saying, “Oh, no, I didn’t read it, I wrote it! His biography!” It turned out that, just that day, she had finally finished the long and arduous project of writing Soutine’s biography and had sent it to her editors. She decided to celebrate by coming in to the gallery to see this painting, even though she didn’t know if it would be hanging - it was worth the chance to be able to stand in front of it and tell him that she had done it, she had finished his book.

I was so moved by this; by the tears in her eyes and passion in her voice, by her love of Soutine and her idea to celebrate the completed book with him, but also by the chance that the painting wouldn’t have been on view, but it was! As she was parting, I told her just how touched I was, and that, as I was going to be getting off work in a few minutes, I would be heading straight to the painting which she had inspired me to look at properly. She told me that she in turn was deeply touched, as the last words in her book implored her readers to go and see this painting for themselves.

For all the reasons why, I can’t wait to read the book and find out. And when I do, I’ll know that I shared a very special moment with its author on that otherwise very unremarkable day.

Woman in Profile, by Chaim Soutine