The Halcyon

 Imagine there’s a famous art endowment. Let’s call it the World Artist Limitless Trust.

The Trust’s mission is to support new, groundbreaking work. They give financial grants to artists, musicians, dancers, sculptors, chefs, actors, and whatever other creatives produce groundbreaking work. Every few years, they commission art with a specific theme. Every few years, they pick two artists from different fields and give them a grant to work together.

Sometimes their grants help inspire something new and exciting. People flock from around the world to see these new works.

Sometimes the projects fall flat. The reviews are bad. Few people go to see it.

The Trust has a board of directors who are supposed to manage everything, but mostly the big decisions are made by a single president. Let’s call him Bob, because that’s his name. Bob did a good job running the Trust. Most of the art he chose to commission was successful, at least in terms of ticket sales and reviews. The Board only cared about number of tickets and quality of reviews.

One day, Bob decides to retire. He’s getting older and, like most old people, he’s putting himself in suspended animation so he can be resurrected in the future. He picks a new president, waves everyone goodbye, and steps into a display freezer in his garage.

His successor gives him a final wave goodbye through the glass and gets to work.

The new president’s name is, coincidentally, also Bob. Let’s call him Bob 2. Bob 2’s been working at the Trust for decades. He’s proven himself smart, reliable, and talented.

Plus, the Trust is doing well. Many of their acclaimed works are open around the world. Many more are in various stages of completion. All Bob 2 has to do is keep everything on an even keel. Find new creators and give them grants. Make sure existing projects are moving forward.

But Bob 2 is afflicted with the worst kind of mental illness: he has a vision.

Instead of parceling out the money on dozens of different projects to dozens of different artists, Bob 2 wants to get them all together for one project.

One project with all the money.

It would be a massive experience like the world had never seen. It would combine music, light, games, theater, food, perfumes, psychedelics, and several other art forms invented just for this project. It would combine every artistic genre into a single, perfect experience.

The work was daunting. It would take a thousand craftspeople a million hours to build. It required the development of cutting edge technologies, the discovery of ancient techniques, and a specially-trained crew to maintain it all.

It cost the entire budget of the World Artist Limitless Trust. And then some.

The Board was skeptical, but they trusted him. He’d proven himself before. Yes, it was risky, but it was also brilliant, revolutionary, world-changing. They agreed, and the project was built. It was opened to huge fanfare. The doors opened.

Nobody went. It was a total failure.

A lot of factors were blamed. It was hard to get to the installation. You had to show 16 forms of ID. You needed a special car to get there. Someone started a war. There was a plague. An earthquake. Dragons.

A few people finally did go. Those who did were dazzled, describing it as one of the greatest experiences of their lives. Bob 2 and the Board wait and wait, hoping word of mouth will spur more reviews, more ticket sales.

But month after month, nobody goes.

Finally, the Board has had enough. They send someone back to old Bob’s house to unplug his freezer. Bewildered, thinking the future a big disappointment, the original Bob takes over the Trust again. His first act: tearing apart Bob 2’s big project.

It won’t be completely destroyed, Bob assures Bob 2. The “good parts” will be separated into different art pieces. They’ll be placed in areas that will be easier for people to get to.

“But the point is how it all fits together!” Bob 2 said. “The point is the whole experience!”

Bob smiles condescendingly and pushes Bob 2 into a freezer.

 

Star Wars: Galactic Starcruiser Hotel will close permanently at the end of this month.