A Photography Exposition

Eighteen photographic artists are exhibiting their work at a juried show at the Voronet Monastery this morning. It sounds like a lovely way to spend a Saturday morning. Morning dawns on a grey sky. As it gets closer to the time to leave, it gets greyer and windier. Finally, huge drops of rain splatter against my bedroom window, rattling the panes. This is not good. I am dependant on the maxitaxi and a regular taxi to get me there which means standing in the elements until one comes along.

I decide I still want to go and so I make a cup of hot chocolate to warm my innards for the trip. After all, I have an umbrella and a rain jacket. How miserable can it be? I stand by the window watching for a break in the downpour. Is it slowing? I think so. I put on my sweater and jacket and head out to the bus stop. It is just drizzling now. I walk to to bus stop and wait. And wait. And wait. I am getting wet. I start to walk back when the maxitaxi arrives from town. He stops to let me on. I ride to the end of the village and then back to town. I get a taxi to the Monastery. It is still raining so I ask the taxi to return in an hour. I think that is plenty of time to stand in the rain.

I walk through the entrance to the grounds and put my camera away. I am in the presence of experts and artists. I don't want to look presumptuous because I do not have the talent I have come to see. They are still setting up and so I take another look inside the monastery. The painting is fresh and well-preserved, probably the best of all of them. I stroll around the building in the rain. I see one of the artists still hanging his pictures. He attaches the string to the back of the one and then winds it around a peg at the top until it hangs just so. He stands back to examine the effect and then at it, goes back to unwind the string and start again. He does this two more times until he gets it exactly right. Then he goes through the same process a few minutes later with the next picture. I continue around the monastery to the beginning. I move out of the rain onto the porch. I watch the water roll off the roof. It pours onto the sidewalk. The sidewalk extends out about ten feet from the monastery in an exact silhouette. What has appeared to be an artistic dip in the stonework turns out to be a catch basin for the rain as it falls from the roof. It is neatly carried away so that puddles do not form. How considerate.

It is nearly time for the opening to begin when I spy a fellow teacher with his family and a few students. He is wearing a nametag that say she is one of the organizers of this event. He speaks French and so we speak through my high school French, his little bit of English and a student who translates for both of us. It is wonderful that we can make this work. He invites me to see the exhibit. The photographers are wonderful. They are from Spain, Austria, Hungary, France, Latvia and Romania. It is a juried exhibition. I am so glad I was early. As we reach the end, I look towards the entrance and see people flocking in to see the exhibit.

It is nearly time for my taxi to reappear and I can't be late. I don't want my carriage to turn into a pumpkin so that I have to walk all the way back in the rain.