An institution giving gravitas, mythology, and an overly committed regard to a annoying Sport.
BROKE GROUND MMXI · UNOFFICIALLY ENDOWED MMXXIII · RECHRISTENED MMXXV · A PLAYHOUSE OF THE PLANET FUN FOUNDAMAZATION
Works held in quasi-permanent collection. Every piece catalogued, labelled, and lit — whether or not anyone is looking at it.
A study of succession. Beneath the surface lie four earlier paintings — court tennis, badminton, squash, tennis — each crowned in its turn and each painted over by the one that followed. Pickleball holds the top layer. Conservators note that the layer is thin, and recently applied.
ENTER THE VIEWING ROOM →One ball, one line, drawn from seven positions on the court. From the baseline it is plainly in. From the sideline it is plainly out. From the kitchen it cannot be determined at all. The Hall exhibits all seven together and declines to say which sheet is correct.
ENTER THE VIEWING ROOM →A working paddle, retired after an estimated forty thousand rallies. Grip tape original. Owner declined to be named, stating only that it “still had one more in it.”
ENTER THE VIEWING ROOM →Ninety-one consecutive dinks rendered across three panels. The central panel is empty. The artist has confirmed this was intentional and has declined all further comment.
ENTER THE VIEWING ROOM →A devotional manuscript in praise of the softest shot in sport. Contains 340 lines of verse, of which 6 are legible and 2 are usable as instruction.
ENTER THE VIEWING ROOM →Fragmentary remains of an early paddle-bearing order. The Hall’s scientific advisors decline to authenticate it. The Hall’s Board voted to display it anyway, unanimously, in under four minutes.
ENTER THE VIEWING ROOM →Let it be known throughout the courts, the surrounding counties, and abroad: the paddle is not a racquet, the kitchen is not a suggestion, and the ball — being holy, being light, being faintly absurd — is nonetheless a serious object worthy of permanent record.
All who enter are held to the standard of the Hall. Which is to say: play hard, dink kindly, and call your own lines.
A question the Board has answered several times, in four different ways, each time to standing applause. Chairs have been ordered.
We commission, collect, and hang original work about a sport most institutions consider unserious. We hang it anyway. We hang it well.
Every rule, rivalry, grip change, and regrettable paddle purchase is catalogued. Nothing is thrown out. Some of it is even true.
Leather chairs, long arguments, an unwritten dress code, and a standing invitation to anyone who has ever missed an easy put-away.
Busts of coaches who may not exist. A wing no one can find twice. A concierge with opinions about your footwork.
Commissioned and non-commissioned references, resources, and interactive tools built by a coach, for coaches, to have fun. Period.
Entirely pickleball. Treated with the gravity of a national collection, because somebody ought to, and because it turns out to be extremely funny when you do.
Six wings. One building. The building is larger inside than the exterior would suggest, and we have stopped apologising for it.
The principal hanging. Original works, framed, labelled, and lit — the reason most visitors come, and the reason most stay.
Records, artefacts, disputed histories, and the complete run of every rule the sport has quietly changed and never mentioned again.
Official notices of the Hall, issued under seal by The Curator. Read them aloud. That is how they were meant to be received.
Letters from the Hall, composed by P. B. Picklesworth, Chief Concierge. Delivered on no fixed schedule and with total conviction.
References, resources, and working tools for coaches, kept by the Head Curator. Everything in this wing is meant to be used, not admired.
The gift shop, properly titled. Sanctioned garments and licensed objects, each one accessioned before release. Anything here may, on occasion, be acquired.
Its own house, its own door, its own rules. The Hall holds works on loan and returns them when asked. Enter directly — this entrance does not pass through the galleries.
ENTER RIDINKULOUS →An older order, separately housed. The specimen on The Wall is a loan, not a holding. Their door is their own and always has been.
ENTER THE DINKOSAURS →The Hall’s permanent staff and archived figures. Several are living. The rest are, at minimum, catalogued.
Answers every letter. Has never been seen entering or leaving the building. Considers “hey” an inadequate salutation.
Issues every notice under seal. Never photographed, never quoted directly, never wrong within the walls of the Hall.
Coaching Since 2005. Certified Elite. Holds that sports go boynd courts, balls, and gear. And into souls, minds, and tears.
Master of the soft game. Teaches touch by refusing to raise his voice, and refuses to raise his voice on principle.
Walks the courts by lantern, seeking one honest dink. Has been searching since 2006. Remains in good spirits.
Enters every name by hand. Has never lost an entry, misspelled a surname, or been persuaded to hurry.
Dims the galleries at closing and walks the floor until dawn. Reports that the Ridinkulous triptych “moves a little.” No action taken.
Objects sanctioned by the Hall. Each is accessioned before it is offered, and each leaves the building with its catalogue number intact.
Proclamation No. XVII, letterpressed on cotton rag. Suitable for framing, or for settling arguments at the net.
Six-panel, brass eyelets, crest embroidered small. Confers no actual authority in the non-volley zone.
Full-grain leather, gold-blocked seal. Your paddle will look more accomplished than it is.
One regulation ball in a fitted case, with certificate. Absurd. Correctly so. Selling briskly.
Three entitlements attach to a name in the Ledger. None of them can be revoked, and one of them cannot be declined.
Entered by hand into Volume XI, in ink, under seal. Removals are not performed — not by request, not by complaint, not by lawyer.
Letters composed by P. B. Picklesworth, Chief Concierge, on no fixed schedule. He writes when moved. He is frequently moved.
Notice of each accession before it is hung for the public. Reading the notice is optional. Receiving it is the part that is not.
Enter your name in the Ledger and receive correspondence from the Hall — proclamations, new acquisitions, and letters from P. B. Picklesworth, Chief Concierge.
This work is reproduced, under the Hall’s own seal, on a garment of heavyweight cotton. The image is struck at full plate size across the back; the crest is engraved small at the chest.
This work is held on loan, not in the collection. The lender declines reproduction, and the Hall does not press the matter. It may be viewed here and nowhere else.