As of writing it’s now been nearly two months since the lock down started, with all the galleries and museums still closed and no re-opening dates set.

I want to re-visit the last few days of visiting galleries and museums before the closure. It felt surreal at the time, though now feels even more surreal given how the weeks have flown by. Plus it feels like I should record what the London art scene looked like as the ‘Covid era’ took hold so we can look back in the future and remember what will hopefully be a one-off event.

Thursday 12 March - Titian

It was the press view of the Titian: Love, Desire, Death exhibition at The National Gallery and I had agreed to do a piece to camera for Associated Press. Covid19 was getting a lot of air time in the news but the hard reality of how dangerous the virus is hadn’t really hit home. I recall everyone was making jokes about how we’re supposed to greet each other due to Covid19. Nobody I spoke to foresaw the major shut down of the country that would ensue.

I met my film maker contact and she offered her hand so I naturally shook it as we had only communicated by text before then. It was only after that I asked her ‘should we be shaking hands’ and we both realised we’d made an error. The looks of doubt quickly disappeared from our faces and we largely brushed it off. It’s scary to think how relaxed we were when the idea of shaking someone’s hand now send waves of anxiety through me.

I remember leaving The National Gallery and not realising at the time that I wouldn’t be setting foot in this place again for at least several months, and that it would shut its doors to the public only a few days later. Most of us arts press folk thought we’d be back for the Artemisia press view, which was originally scheduled for 1 April. That exhibition is now postponed with new dates yet to be announced.

Thursday 12 March - evening openings

Later that evening I went to a set of private views / opening nights at a couple of exhibitions, not knowing that this would be the last night of openings for some time. I’m optimistic that galleries will open in the near future but the first post-Covid packed out gallery opening is unlikely to happen until probably 2021.

Most of my greetings were the foot taps and elbow bumps that had been trending on social media as alternative greetings — we were still a long way off from 2 metre social distancing at this point.

I remember one of the artists suggesting we should hug and we did. It’s strange to think that’s the last physical human contact I’ve had … and that was two months ago.

Understandably a lot of the conversations were on what this virus means for the art world. There was surprise that this night was also the opening for the Affordable Art Fair, Battersea and that they had gone ahead given the risks. Truthfully it was less about the health risks, which was yet to sink in, and more to do with the financial implications of the likely low attendance, resulting in poor sales for the galleries and artists present.

We discussed how The Other Art Fair was still planning to go ahead the following week. At the time the latest was they were forging ahead with a ‘no handshake policy’ and hand sanitiser readily available. In a few days time they would announce the fair’s cancellation, clearly the right call as the realisation of the lethality of the virus became more evident with each passing day.

The openings were of course sparsely attended given there were a lot of people wary of venturing out. A few months ago an evening with me at private views had been auctioned off for £150 at a charity quiz. I had been sold three times at that price, a definite ego boost, and the first of these evenings was due to be redeemed this night by a PR company. However, I heard from them in the morning they had all been sent to work from home for the foreseeable future. Given they were no longer situated around the corner from the openings I was attending they would no longer be joining me.

It’s only when writing this post that I’ve now realised that it’s highly unlikely any of those three auction prizes will be redeemed in this calendar year, though of course there’s no expiration date and I’ll happily fulfil my obligations in 2021.

I’m a trustee of ArtCan and a workshop was due to take place on Saturday. We discussed whether this should go ahead as a few ArtCan artists were in attendance at the opening of The Colour of Starlight - the exhibiting artists also both happened to be ArtCan artists.

We decided that night that the ArtCan workshop should be cancelled. For any artists who had already made plans to travel into London I suggested they could join me on my usual Saturday rounds, which brings us on to …

Saturday 14 March

Saturday is my day of visiting galleries. Normally I would spend every Saturday from 10-6 hopping around the galleries. Often I do these on my one, but this day two ArtCan artists had decided to take up my offer and join me later in the day. I remember the Undergound and the streets of London feeling quiet, but not especially so for a Saturday morning.

The day started with an 11am early viewing of the Sarah Lucas exhibition at Sadie Coles on Kingly Street. There was lots of hand sanitiser available, which I made liberal use of, and I had the exhibition all to myself for a good 20 minutes. I did wonder if it would be going ahead but the gallery had confirmed it was, and I wasn’t expecting a huge turnout - though was a little surprised to find it was just me.

I hadn’t met the gallery’s press contact so when she came over I shot out my hand on instinct. When I realised she wasn’t going to shake my hand, I quickly realised my error and apologised. We talked while keeping a healthy distance and we were joined by one more person. I didn’t see any others arrive at this preview, and I left around midday - halfway through the 11am-1pm event.

I popped across the road for some early lunch and sat down as the lone figure in the little cafe. While eating I was checking my phone for the social media feed of all the galleries I planned to visit on my rounds - in case any had announced that they were closed.

My next planned stop was Marian Goodman Gallery and just then something popped up on their Twitter feed to say the gallery was now closed. As the gallery was round the corner I decided to see if I could maybe sneak in a quick visit. As I got to the door I saw a printed sign on the door announcing the gallery was closed and on the other side of the glass door I could see a man tidying up the gallery. When our eyes met his face definitely had a ‘don’t you dare open that door’ look on it, so I wisely walked away.

I then proceeded to journey round Mayfair galleries. Only a third of my planned stops were open with other galleries bearing signs on their doors announcing they were now closed. Walking down Cork Street was especially surreal as all the galleries were closed. It reminded me of Westerns when the bad guys roll into town and all the windows and doors get bolted shut.

I ended the day at Edmund de Waal’s excellent Library of Exile installation at The British Museum. Thankfully the last physical exhibition I would see for some time happened to be a high note. Little did I know when the security guard came round to say the museum was closing it was really the entire gallery and museum world that was closing … at least for me.

Monday 16 March

By now many of the commercial galleries had already closed and the big institutions would follow on Tuesday. So I was surprised to hear there were still plans for the press view of the Hogarth: London Voices, London Lives exhibition to go ahead at Pitzhanger Manor on Tuesday morning.

I was so concerned that I got in touch to check it was still going ahead and was told that it was. It was only at 7pm this evening that I was notified that it had been cancelled. It feels strange that the exhibition must have been fully installed and yet only the exhibitions team at Pitzhanger Manor will have seen it. I have this image of a show frozen in time - like one of those cryostasis pods in Sci-Fi movies, awaiting for safer times when it can be awakened.

Other shows have been frozen in time or cancelled, and the story of a show that lasted only a few hours is particularly sad.

Thus ended my gallery going for the foreseeable future and now we wait for the green light to start visiting exhibitions once it’s safe to do so again. I do miss the exhibitions a lot and I can’t wait until we can safely visit them again. Just as the daffodils and bluebells are a sign of spring, the time when I can spend a day of gallery going will be my sign that the world is returning to normal.