‘Hedge fund managers, tech investors, global CEOs,’ Soraya listed off. ‘Impeccable Savile Row armour. Their conversations are deals, mergers, and market volatility. They’re here to donate, but mostly to network. They’re the flashiest and, paradoxically, the most anxious.’I spotted a group that fit the description perfectly, laughing a bit too loudly, checking watches every other sentence.‘And the third group?’ I asked, intrigued.‘The Creatives. The Artists and Curators. The necessary guests.’ She nodded towards a man in a velvet jacket and a woman with a colourful silk scarf knotted in her artfully dishevelled hair. ‘They provide the “eccentricity”. Largely ignored by the Old Guard, but feverishly fawned over by the Corporates. They are, incidentally, the only people here who are genuinely interested in the art.’I was impressed. ‘So, which tribe do you belong to?’She smiled, a mysterious, cat-like curve of her lips. ‘Oh, none of them. I’m not old enough to be Old Guard, not nearly
Read more