A crowd of people spilled onto the cobblestone street in Soho. Thumping house music echoed from the boutique where the throng originated. It was bright in there. A waft of muggy heat poured out of the open doors. A kempt man with bouldery shoulders ensured you were on the list before entering.
Everyone was dressed as if they were coming from a party or going to another one.
Golf was neither the lead singer nor the backup vocalist here on Crosby Street on the eve of the Ryder Cup. It was simultaneously omnipresent and invisible.
Abstract art with golfers the size of matchsticks hung on the walls. Women in fashionable streetwear drank prosecco from plastic glasses. One 30 something man wore a Ryder Cup quarterzip. Outside of that, there was no sign of the famed event being played about 35 miles away.
“My favorite thing about this is no one knows what it really is,” Malbon CEO Aaron Heiser says. “It just is.”
This was Werner Bronkhorst’s “Golf is Art” viewing inside Malbon’s Soho showroom. The pieces were a mix of architecture, sculpture and painting.
Smeared green acrylic gel representing fairways and rough. White for the bunkers. Big globs of both for hills or dunes or whatever you want to tell yourself. Then, no larger than a few centimeters, golfers putting or hitting shots or holding flag sticks with shadowed silhouettes.
“Each one of those takes me about an hour,” Bronkhorst says, pointing to the miniature golfers on the piece called “Birdie Chance.”
I tell him from a small distance, and through a packed crowd, that the art looks like the view of a golf course from the balcony of a clubhouse.
“I actually got the idea when I was flying in Australia and saw a golf course from the window,” he says. “Australia has so many golf courses.”
“Do you play a lot?”
“Only five times, but I want to get more into it.”
How ironic that a person who rarely plays golf got this idea by doing something almost every golfer in the world does while flying: look at golf courses.
Surrounding us are people more like Werner than myself—casual golfers who see the beauty of the game through the lens of lifestyle, fashion and, yes, art. It’s a smaller subset of the larger golfer demographic, but an interesting one nevertheless.
A man tells me he plays Augusta the Monday after the Masters every year. I have suspicions, but don’t inquire further.
Someone compliments my cardigan. We discuss bringing them back on the golf course again, like Arnold Palmer. They agree. They don’t mention Palmer being the last playing-captain in the Ryder Cup.
A woman caresses a blue Malbon sweater hanging on a rack.
“This would be great for next weekend.”
I don’t think she’s talking about playing golf in it.
“This is my favorite piece,” Bronkhorst says, pointing again to ‘Birdie Chance.’ “I just finished it a few months ago.”
They’re auctioning off the panting. All of the net proceeds will support youth golf charities.
The current winning bid is $130,000. The First Tee, Youth On Course and Pebble Beach Junior Golf will be happy.
This is not a crowd that cares about who wins the Ryder Cup, though perhaps some will attend for the “vibes” or photo opps or just to say they went. These won’t be the hooligans who heckle the Europeans from the bleachers this weekend.
“This is one of my first golf pieces,” Bronkhorst says pointing to another work with four golfers walking in the same direction. “It’s called ‘Caddy Road.’ I based it on ‘Abby Road.'”
We both smile.
Golf and the Beatles and art. Who would have thought?
