musicians of old

Chapter 800 Holding Hands
"Lot 23, Giovanni Baglione's Madonna and Child with Angels, a collection of cultural relics owned by the museum. The painter was a direct disciple of Caravaggio. Look at this deliberately clumsy brushstroke - it is the most precious affectation and wildness of the Caravaggio school!"

Some people showed hesitation, and the attendant immediately showed them the "Roman Certificate of Authentication", while Nikolayevich in the wheelchair continued to explain the details.

Finally, Nancy struck the hammer and the work was sold for 5600 florins.

“Lot 57, “Swing” Series , consignor, contemporary painter Vincent.”

The painting caused quite a stir the moment it was unveiled. On the 90x140 cm canvas, the cliff tore the composition apart like a festering wound, four matchstick men sat on the edge, a swing hung by black ropes was suspended in the void, and in the distance on the diagonal, a mass of deep red oil paint was surging like coagulated blood!
Nikolayevich stared in silence for two minutes, then suddenly clapped his hands, startling everyone in the room: "Mr. Vincent has created a completely new aesthetic grammar of fear." He then used a caliper to measure the distance between the swing and the red ball, "Look at this precise golden ratio—" and used a magnifying glass to focus on a touch of chrome yellow in the red ball, "This touch of yellow is by no means accidental, it reminds me of the gold thread on the hem of God's robe in Van Eyck's Ghent Altarpiece."

At this time, he chuckled and looked at Vincent, whose brows were gradually furrowing. "Please forgive my presumptuous interpretation. Is that crimson a hint of the outline of the French guillotine?"

Amid the uproar in the audience, the man picked up the Journal of the Vienna Royal Academy of Fine Arts and wrote: "The paper published this month pointed out that since July last year, 1789, the monthly appreciation rate of revolutionary metaphorical works has ranged from 7% to 7% - every time you raise your placard, you are betting on the future of art!"

4000 florins. 5000 florins. 6000 florins.
Despite the riots and discussions, the bids really started to rise.

"This Nikolayevich Squiyaben."

Fanning, who had taken a break from his busy schedule, retreated to the shadow of the relief columns on the porch and quietly looked at the people under the spotlight.

They say good things are bad and bad things are good, and use some dangerous political hype to "praise and kill" Vincent's works. Is this chief appraiser hired by Lerici himself pretending to know everything, or is he intentionally misleading people's cognition and distorting the art market?
Fanning witnessed half of the auction process, and in some of them, he saw some shady ways of making money, such as boasting about self-operated collections to increase the bidding, or suppressing consignment collections so that no one is interested, and finally the collection museum will "goodwill" to cover the bottom at a low price.
But there is another part that can obviously operate normally and benefit from it.

Fanning didn't quite understand what was going on with this Nikolayevich.

But after thinking about it, he probably understood the general idea.

When it comes to things like art valuation, there are so many variables and the level of expertise required. Lerici claims to understand it well, but it is impossible for him to understand it all, just as Fanning himself cannot understand it all.

It was just that Lerici was deceiving others about some things, and Nikolayevich was deceiving him about other things. It was just a mixture of truth and falsehood, and they just took advantage of each other.

During the break between the first and second half, Fanning went into the "Collection Conservation and Restoration Room" and worked for a while. After finishing his work early, he had time to relax in the corridors and hallways outside to get some fresh air.

But he soon found that the idea of ​​"breathing" was nonsense.

There were social scenes everywhere, and people were bustling about. The smell of orange blossom perfume, iris root powder, and cigar smoke mixed with the sweat of the guests transformed into a strange, slightly sour smell.

"Hello, Mr. Fanning the Restorer."

"Hello, Lord Yetus."

I bumped into one of the few people I knew in the crowd, and it was just an acquaintance. Fanning said hello to him. The editor-in-chief of the Cultural Observer was using a silver snuff bottle to cover his yawn, and the ashes fell into the champagne glass held high by the waiter. At another corner, the crowd was even denser, shoulder to shoulder.

It turns out that this is a gallery displaying Vincent’s other “Swing” series of paintings.

The swing that looks like a gallows and only shows the silhouette of a girl, the empty swing frozen in the snowy mountains, and the hammock-style swing in the interior of a palace salon
An abstract swing on a thoroughly colorful background.
Fan Ning couldn't really squeeze in, so he just glanced at it from a distance. He was too lazy to squeeze in to listen to those people's loud talk.

Since Nikolayevich's "exclusive appreciation" just now, the topic of discussion among these people has all turned to speculation about Vincent's political views.
After taking a breath, Fan Ning took two steps at a time, seized the opportunity, and stood under a slanted iron carved window.

It was still raining heavily outside. Although the hot and humid air made people feel uncomfortable all over, at least their noses were not suffering so much.

After being in a daze for a while, suddenly, a warm hand was handed to me.

And, he held himself with his fingers almost intertwined.

Fanning was stunned.

"Miss McAdam?"

He looked at the extremely beautiful girl in front of him wearing a light red windbreaker, her black hair that was tied up to look lively and capable, and the small apricot shoulder bag on her shoulder, and was sure that he had not recognized the wrong person, even Miss McAdam, the editor-in-chief of the Vienna Art Review. At the same time, he was sure that the other party had definitely recognized the wrong person.

As the editor-in-chief of a major media outlet and a talented and beautiful girl, she is definitely a celebrity. However, as a "collection protection and restoration technician" who has been working behind the scenes for many years, even if she is a "senior technician", I am probably not known by many people.

But a smile appeared on the other's cheek, and he took Fanning's hand without saying anything, pulling him through the crowd.

Fan Ning was confused and had the illusion that he was being abducted, but the person holding his hand was always one step ahead of him, so there was no chance for a conversation. And for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to let go and shake off the questioning.

Although the road was crowded, the total number of people who saluted Fanning was definitely more than ten. The looks in their eyes were nothing more than "who is this" and "good guy".

Then, in the tea room used as a salon, Miss McAdam pulled Fanning directly and sat down on a white salon hammock that was hung like a swing.

Fanning was finally annoyed. This was his workplace after all. "Ms. Reporter, it's an honor to meet you, but before you date your male companion, shouldn't you take a closer look at his face first?"

Miss McAdam, who was wearing a light red windbreaker, grabbed the rope with one hand and leaned close to Fanning's ear in a very intimate manner. However, the words she said made Fanning's pupils shrink slightly -

"Sorry, I need your help. I have dirty information and evidence about Lerici in my bag, but I seem to be being targeted by someone."