The Idea of Touch and Group Dynamics

I attended a friend’s art exhibition last night and was pleased to see many familiar faces. My friend, a young artist, greeted me at the door of the art gallery; he was visibly excited and anxious. Who wouldn’t be? After engaging in a little small talk for 20 minutes or so, I walked into the gallery to enjoy the fruits of his labor.

Large Jar
Korean Yi Dynasty (17th Century)

For most people, deciding what is beautiful or artistic happens in a matter of milliseconds after seeing some object; seriously, it’s almost an automatic response. We often find if difficult to articulate why we like or loathe something. Experiencing art is, of course, a very subjective thing. Our perception of objects (or ideas) is influenced by past experience and present motivational state.

My friend was exploring the idea of art that could stimulate (the senses and mind), without actually coming into contact with the body’s sensory structures. For example, some pieces seemed to resemble chewing gum and similar objects; I guess the observer was supposed to imagine how the object would feel in his or her mouth. Other objects were created to stimulate our touch receptors—or, the idea of touch, as we couldn’t actually physically touch the objects. His use of rich textures and familiar fabrics was very effective.

After the exhibition, a group of us wined and dined at a nice little restaurant that wasn’t too far from the gallery. It was an interesting mix of people. After dinner, we headed to an “upscale” bar. Most of us were academics, artists, musicians, and writers. Actually, there was only one writer, a young woman from California. Gay men were very well represented. As I enjoyed the company of my friends, acquaintances, and a few new people, I noticed a few things.

First, my friends and I have been through this whole routine many times before. Most of us are in our late twenties and early thirties, but there are a few people who are in their late thirties. We attend these types of events on a regular basis—various art shows, music recitals and concerts, and so on. In fact, I’m a member of a choral group. We perform about three times a year (yes, I have to wear a tux), and my friends are always there to support me and the chorus. It’s interesting that my friends and I have become very accustomed to this sort of thing. We seem to follow a similar script every time. We’ve become somewhat predictable, and the conversations are usually the same.

Thank goodness for young blood, those new individuals eager to become a part of our group. To be honest, we aren’t a perfect cohesive group. We’re more like a collection of like-minded people. Friendships seem to develop almost over night, and they die just as quickly. And there are times when I only hang out with a select few. I'm a reserved person. Some of the new people are younger. The exciting part is learning more about them and trying to establish some common ground. But there is no question that they are entering our world and must adapt to our particular rules and idiosyncrasies. Their ass kissing skills are quite impressive. It’s fun to watch them perform.

One of the newbies, a 24-year-old Latin guy, approached me at the bar. He told me about his life is Miami and a recent trip to Europe. He made a few silly comments, and I laughed when appropriate. I’m a good listener. As he talked, one thing came to mind: I wondered what it would be like to touch his body—his neck, a bicep, lips. Yes, the idea of touch can be very stimulating. The fun eventually came to an end; we hugged, exchanged numbers, and went our separate ways. God, I love Latin men.