One of my travel-related theories—I have quite a few—is that people go to museums for more than the art. They go because museums are safe, reliable spaces amid all the newness and differentness of travel. Even in the most avant-garde architecture, the interior space is usually familiar. Plus, museums are often among the few places where you’re not outnumbered by locals, and everyone moves nice and slowly.

So when I got the invitation to the opening of the “Under Construction” exhibit at Hotel Particulier, I was excited to see that the gallery is indeed a work in progress: “Located in an old Soho garage north of Grand Street, and currently under construction, this raw space offers an opportunity to exhibit work in a setting that is different from the traditional white box art gallery.” I’ll take raw space over clean white walls any day of the week.

Hotel Particulier, you might recall, came up back in November, when Crain’s wrote about the lease. A commenter complained that it sounded like a nightclub, and proprietor (hotelier?) Frederique Thiollet rebutted by saying, “Hotel Particulier won’t be a nightclub; we will be closing at 10 p.m. weekly and 12 a.m. on weekends. Hotel Particulier will be indeed a special cultural point of connection with an art gallery, an independent curated accessory shop opening at 11 a.m.—and a café, teahouse in the back opening at 3 p.m. with coffee, tea, small savory and sweet plates along with wine and champagne. We want to reintroduce the culture of café society with salons and revues in a very contemporary manner, all with savoir-vivre.”

I think we could all use a bit more savoir-vivre. For the moment, however, and only through Saturday, there is just art. The space visible last night is at least two levels (the third is blocked off), with a makeshift ramp between them. The art is of the type that depends entirely on what you bring to it. A video of a trussed woman reminded me of a pork roast, while a room of garden hoses called to mind a room of garden hoses. A groovy neon display hit home when I realized that it said “degenerate” on it, which is how I felt after someone walked in on me taking photos of the pork roast woman. Best of all was a room, lit red, with a table of plaster sculptures on it. To get a close look, you have to walk on the shards of plaster on the floor. “It’s an unnerving sound in a gallery,” said another guest. I said I thought it was unnerving anywhere.

Me being me, I got even more of a thrill from the ceiling, which looked like a homespun Piet Mondrian. It’s the third photo below.

Hotel Particulier is at 4-6 Grand, just east of Varick. “Under Construction” is up through March 10.