Beatty Hallas

I stood at the front door and welcomed visitors to my friends’ open house.

Notes from the day:

Welcome Mat, 20 May 2012

I began slightly tentatively, hands clasped and standing on the doormat outside the front door. My feet began automatically to rock up onto the toes and back down flat, as I had seen policeman do. This was as much about keeping my feet warm as settling into a stance and rhythm of biding my time. As the day went on I became more confident in my position, more upbeat and alert to the dynamics of arrivals.

The weather was much colder than I thought it would be. A chilly wind gusted around me. I had to leave my post several times to get hot tea and jump up and down. I felt lacking in my preparations.

I realised as time went on that my role was to be poised, with the emphasis on waiting for someone to arrive. Someone to receive my greeting. I could see reflections in a car in front which gave indications that they were coming. I had to focus and be receptive.

I thought of the all the jobs I have had that have involved this ‘greeter’ element. The duality of being vulnerable in needing someone else to complete the exchange, and the upper hand of being the initiator of a new relationship.

On arrival visitors were often stopped in their tracks. I stood face-on at the top of five steps in an alcove-like porch. It was a surprise to be met like this on a domestic street. They smiled on being welcomed, a mood of warmth was established on going into the house. They replied with ‘thank you’ or even ‘you’ve been so kind already’. I turned sideways to let them enter the narrowed doorway and this prompted further interchanges as we brushed shoulders in close quarters.

If they asked if I had work in the house I said no, but passed them on to the homeowners. They were curious why I was there if I didn’t have work in the house. I let this remain a question in their minds without being confrontational.

The six hours passed quickly. The porch felt like a sentry box, with a limited view. Neighbours passed back and forth, kids on scooters and cars reversing up the street. As people left I was the final point of farewell.

My original proposal can be downloaded here