Thank God that we at the club have such low standards and such an anti -aesthetic sensibility that whatever we do can only be improved by making it worse. I know it's the apocryphal 'modern art' anecdote but I wasn't the only one that thought a small table with a light bulb under a perspex turntable cover was just that. When The Travelling Museum Of Dilapidation toppled over causing a step ladder to crash down and take the corner of the table I learnt otherwise. I had more on my mind at the time than superficial damage to a piece of office furniture and it was only upon the artists return that all hell broke loose. There was no hiding the fact there had been an accident when the museum fell, it was a hell of a bloody bang and everyone came running so it didn't take a stewards inquiry long to point the finger at me. I said it was lucky not to have been totally trashed and that if they stuck it in the corner no one would notice but this only brought accusations of insensitivity.

For the rest of the afternoon there was a constant procession of curators, directors and assorted dignitaries as Mr-bloody-temperemental talked about insurance claims and scorched the back of my head with his glare. He spent the first hour of the opening guarding his light box from further damage before being called away and leaving a convenient place for the crowd to rest their drinks