
Social distancing is a necessary part of public health policy during a pandemic, such as we are currently experiencing. But for me, the term conjures up all sorts of mixed feelings, particularly when it conflicts with the basic need of art — the shared experience. Virtual tours have become the mainstay of museums and galleries that are now shuttered to the world. While these digital offerings can be informative and entertaining, they can’t replace the in-person, in-situ, serendipitous experience of being there. Until we reopen the world again, I reflect on another time in my life when despite social constraints…
I am at the National Gallery in Budapest. It is early summer 1979. I’ve just traversed the expanse of cobblestoned garden area facing the Danube and entered the main hall. I am alone. The girl who issued me my ticket is back to reading a book in her lap. There is no one else in the entire museum, which is about the size of the main wing at the Met. This Soviet-dominated economy boasts 100-percent employment, so, of course, there is no one here. They must all be at work. No tourists either.