Team news

The art world is a universe of nuance, and no one understands that better than Peregrine Luxford, the latest addition to our gallery’s esteemed team. Joining us as the inaugural Curator of Shadows, Peregrine’s role is utterly groundbreaking. Tasked with “documenting and interpreting the transient interplay of light and shadow as an artistic narrative,” Peregrine brings a new dimension of sophistication to our curatorial department.

What Does a Curator of Shadows Do?

According to Peregrine, the position involves “capturing the untold stories of temporality that unfold in the voids between luminance and opacity.” In practical terms? Peregrine spends hours observing how light filters through windows, reflects off sculptures, or lingers on the edges of paintings, cataloging these moments into a bespoke, leather-bound ledger titled The Luxford Index of Fleeting Brilliance.

“Art doesn’t just exist in the frame,” Peregrine explains, sipping an oat-milk cortado in a local cafe. “It exists in the shadows it casts, in the gaps it leaves behind. My job is to preserve the unpreservable.”

Already, Peregrine has identified over 47 “notable shadow moments” in our latest exhibition, including the time a beam of sunlight perfectly bisected a marble plinth for 43 seconds. “I felt like I was witnessing a metaphysical dialogue between the universe and the concept of balance,” Peregrine recalls.

A Storied Background

Hailing from a family of obscure academics—his mother wrote a book on the symbolism of pocket lint in 17th-century poetry—Peregrine was destined for a career in an intellectual niche. Educated at the International Academy for Obscure Aesthetics in Bruges, Peregrine’s thesis, “The Ontology of the Half-Shadow in Post-Postmodern Spatial Realities,” was widely described as “incomprehensibly brilliant” by the three people who read it.

He went on to complete a postdoctoral fellowship in Shadow Semiotics at the University of Leicester and briefly lectured on “The Poetics of Dimness” before deciding to take his work “out of academia and into the world.”

Peregrine is already planning his first major project: “The Shadow Anthology,” a digital archive that will document significant shadow moments in the gallery over the course of a year. The project, set to launch next spring, will be accompanied by an ambitious symposium, “Shadows as Subtext: The Immaterial Made Meaningful.”

Peregrine will also be responsible for the gallery’s five a-side cricket team and our increasingly busy sports sponsorship as art department.

Welcome Peregrine!

In the world of art galleries, you’d think the riskiest thing would be misplacing a priceless painting or spilling coffee on a Monet. But here we do things differently. And by “differently,” I mean Teton Yu, our beloved gallery manager, is taking “performance art” to dizzying heights—literally.

Next Saturday, Teton will be attempting what no art professional has dared before: a sponsored skydive from 15,000 feet WITHOUT A PARACHUTE. His target? A giant trampoline set up somewhere in the rugged wilderness of Montana. If this isn’t art, I don’t know what is.

The (Absurd) Backstory

Teton, known around the gallery for his sharp eye for detail and penchant for questionable dares after two espressos, first came up with this idea during a staff meeting. The prompt? Brainstorming creative ways to fundraise for the gallery’s upcoming avant-garde exhibition, Gravity Schmavity. While most of us suggested bake sales or silent auctions, Teton stood up, raised his hand, and said with unnerving conviction:

“I’ll just jump out of a plane without a parachute. For art.”

We laughed. He didn’t. And now here we are.

The Logistics (Because Science?)

Teton’s journey will involve some very calculated precision—emphasis on “calculated” because we really hope he’s done the math. His drop zone will be marked by a custom-built trampoline engineered to absorb the impact of a human meteor. Local engineers, circus performers, and one YouTuber who once jumped off a barn into a bouncy castle were consulted for this ambitious project.

The trampoline itself is 50 feet in diameter, reinforced with NASA-grade materials, and sits atop a bed of Montana’s softest hay. Why Montana? Teton says it’s because, “The landscape really speaks to me, and I want to scream back at it during freefall.”

Why Is He Doing This?

Other than the obvious answer—for the drama—Teton’s skydive is meant to raise awareness (and funds) for the gallery’s efforts to push boundaries in the art world. And also, because according to Teton:

“Sometimes, you just need to yeet yourself into the unknown to feel truly alive.”

Sponsors have jumped on board in droves. Local businesses, skydiving enthusiasts, and trampoline manufacturers alike are all pitching in to ensure Teton’s big bounce goes off without a hitch (or lawsuit).

The Risks

Of course, there are naysayers. Some call the stunt reckless. Others have pointed out that the physics of a human body hitting a trampoline at terminal velocity might not exactly result in a soft landing. But Teton remains unshaken. When asked about the dangers, he simply replied:

“What is art without a little splatter?”

How to Watch

The jump will be live-streamed on the gallery’s website and social media platforms at 2 PM MST next Saturday. Viewers are encouraged to donate in real time, with every $100 milestone triggering a new “bonus challenge” for Teton, such as mid-air poses or a poetry recital during the fall.

Will he survive? Will the trampoline hold? Will this become the greatest (or last) performance of Teton’s career? Tune in to find out.

In the meantime, we’ll be holding a gallery-wide raffle for the chance to sign Teton’s helmet—or the trampoline—after the jump.

Final Thoughts

Whether this ends in glory or…well, a slightly messier outcome, Teton Yu’s leap of faith is already a masterpiece in the making. So let’s support him, cheer him on, and maybe start brainstorming softer fundraising ideas for next year.

Because if nothing else, Teton Yu is proving one thing: art truly knows no bounds—or parachutes.

Stay tuned, and wish him (and the trampoline) luck.