Last week, this reporter had the opportunity to visit a 'real and proper' art gallery for an opening of an exhibition. Dan Brown’s depiction of The Louvre in his best-selling The Da Vinci Code gave me pretty high expectations - from the chime of champagne glasses clinking, to the Gucci handbags, the imported cars parked on the curb to the incomprehensible pieces of canvases hanging off the walls - it was all there. It was surreal.

The very next day, I dropped in at another art exhibition. Talk about coming down with a crash. This time, there were no waiters serving guests sushi or a detailed price list of paintings. Some guests were in slippers and shorts. I didn’t even have to RSVP to be there. This particular exhibition made my experience the night before feel like the Twilight Zone.