Notes from an exhibition – The invitation

 

Games do not usually leave the house, except for family gatherings, holiday trips or a few days here and there. It is true that a few, such as the travel backgammon, some decks of cards and poker dice, have travelled thousands of kilometres on planes, trains, cars and bicycles. Some have even visited places of inspiration for their creation, such as Glen More's pieces that have been to Loch Ness and other places in Scotland. However, generally speaking, they only know the route between the shelves where they lay and the tables where they are played, not getting to know that many people.

That was so until the day when, during one of our conversations, Margarida Almeida asked me, ‘Do you want to organise an exhibition of board games?’. My first reaction was of surprise. I had never looked at my games as a collection, let alone a collection to be displayed and with interest to others. They were just games, to be used in several ways. Well, come to think of it, there was indeed something of a collector's approach, with games being bought with the full knowledge that they would not be played much. They were purchased primarily for the theme, the processes, the complexity, or the art. However, these were one-off decisions devoid of a specific overarching purpose. 

The initial surprise was shortly followed by a series of questions, a sign that the challenge had been accepted. How can you conceive an exhibition starting from zero experience? For which target audience? With what main theme and possible ramifications? Allowing for which degree of interaction? How is the space to be managed? How do we organise the individual displays, and how do we set up the games? What will be needed in terms of support materials and information? There were more questions than answers, but I knew I could count on Margarida's experience and creativity! 

At the same time, however, dark shadows were looming over the world. Shadows that approached from afar, transforming any sense of normality as they passed through. And they inevitably arrived, consigning the life that resisted them to a confinement that extended, in an indefinite suspension, into an unreal reality. The year was two thousand twenty, and the pandemic had arrived. All that remained was to wait for a future.