Almighty painter

Chapter 867: One sentence made Miss Elena spend three million for me
"The distant and close-up views of oil paintings, lightning and thunderclouds, candlelight and windows, they all have one thing in common—"

Gu Weijing lowered his head and looked at the nameplate.

His black eyes appeared slightly yellow against the golden background of the letters, the color of chestnut leaves in autumn. In the dimness, he had a feeling of seeing another person's eyes through the golden lake.

The ghost sealed in amber sings silently.

Gu Weijing looked at it for a long time.

"--They are all luster, they are all luster... they are all using luster to pierce something." The young man recited the spell to pierce amber in a very soft voice.

Anna closed her lips gently.

She felt that there was no need to explain anything unnecessary.

Kara paints churches, however, what she paints is never a religious painting. It is neither one of those classic works about the majesty of God, nor, strictly speaking, it is difficult to classify it among those classic works that mock other sects.

No.

Kara might not have thought about so many grand things.

Good and bad, kind and evil.

That painting has no special relationship with gods, angels, or demons in essence.

The painting was only related to Kara herself and Elena's family.

The traditional Central European school of architecture believes that architecture is a solidified "book" standing on the earth that can be read by everyone.

In the past, people’s literacy rate was very low, and ordinary people could not understand the text in real books.

The buildings are different.

Architecture does not need to be read.

It just needs to be “felt.”

It stands there, carrying with it its own natural cultural connotations, which can be interpreted through feeling.

The Greek Parthenon, the Roman Pisa Cathedral, and the Baroque and Rococo palaces and gardens...from this perspective, they are all books.

All the spires, domes, flying eaves and brackets, carved windows, classical columns and opposite courtyards in the world, everything that people can see on the surface, all the lines and facades, are all words in books.

In this respect, architecture and painting are very similar. They are all languages ​​without letters but with content, poetry without words but with rhymes, and music without sounds but with tunes.

It stands there, endorsing its own majesty and sacredness.

It represents laws and rules.

Throughout her life, the books Kara came into contact with most often were about palaces and churches.

For example——

Elena Manor.

Claude Monet set up a drawing board and stood opposite the Rouen Cathedral, collecting materials day after day. He looked at the Gothic architectural lines as if he was facing a sacred scripture.

The huge Bible he read weighed hundreds of thousands of tons.

finally.

He uses stones that evaporate and flow in the light to express his inner emotions.

And after a long journey, Kara stood in front of the church, as if facing the ancient Elena Manor, her golden cage.

So, she told herself, the candle was shut in the window, but the light could not be shut out.

It will eventually break through the wall.

A few years ago, Kara saw clouds burning above the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. After returning home, she wrote in her diary: "A brand new artistic path slowly unfolded before my eyes. In the burning sky, I saw a river of dreamy colors that could extend infinitely. I felt that this would be the destination of my life."

Kara might not have really made up her mind at that time.

The clouds in Paris and the ripples of the Seine River only planted a kernel of an infinitely extending dream in Miss Elena's heart.

but.

There are so many people in this world, so many students in art academies, and so many generations of Miss Elena who love art in the Elena family over the centuries, maybe 50, maybe 100.

Miss Elena is not the only one who has planted the seed of an infinitely extending dream in her heart.

A seed alone will not produce flowers or fruits.

It's strength.

It was the horrifying power, the unimaginable power she gained during her journey that supported her and allowed the kernel of her dream to germinate. It was this vigorous vitality that supported Monet in the cold winter in Paris, moving seven times in a season, using newspapers picked up from the street as socks to wrap his feet to keep warm, and allowing him and his wife Camille to continue walking together.

It was the same power that allowed Kara to face her father's hysterical roars or pleas to stop making trouble when she was growing weaker and thinner due to tuberculosis in the cellar of Elena's manor.

She was able to shake her head calmly.

Mr. Count, I wrote you so many letters and said so many things to you, do you think I am making a fuss? Do you think that I change my address and name in the letters just to make you unhappy?
"Never, my father, my forever father, despite the fact that our father-daughter relationship may have caused great pain to both of us."

People can be weak and live their lives in a golden cage.

If you have never seen the real scenery.

If you have never felt the true power of life.

Perhaps before the emergence of Impressionism, such as Monet, Renoir, Degas, Pissarro... every oil painter who stood on the street and saw the burning sea of ​​clouds in the sky, every watercolor painter who stood by the harbor and watched the first ray of morning sun piercing the sea surface, had all sensed that thrilling feeling in the light and air.

Countless people have stood at the door of the room, looking out.

Some people bravely stepped forward, such as Turner.

Some people only try it briefly.

Some people stood at the door and tried to take two steps outside. Then they felt the wind blowing on their faces and thought it was too rebellious and unruly, so they turned around and hurriedly retreated to the door.

Similarly, perhaps before Kara, before she made her decision, there were many Miss Elenas, all of whom had at some point planted a kernel of an infinitely extending dream in their hearts.

Then, in her long life, she withered and died, wrapped in the glory that came with the name "Elena".

The Count roared, "Paris is such a corrupt city," but he never understood that no matter what kind of city Paris is, change does not happen at Paris balls, in the cafe of the Ritz Hotel, or under the glass dome of the bespoke tailor shop in the Printemps department store.

At that time.

He only needed to send a butler to bring his daughter back and give her a good beating, or even just cut off Kara's pension, which would make Miss Elena suffer and struggle, and even make her turn back into the Miss Elena she used to be.

Drug addicts always have a belief that they cannot live without this substance. Or.

Will live a life worse than death.

The changes happened during the long journey, in the mud by the roadside, in the hands of women weaving cotton, and in the long gazes with the noble and solemn eyes of the taciturn hunter named "Nayuki" who hardly spoke.

Yes.

When Kara realized that maybe, she could be someone other than herself.

Her dreams once existed only in her diary, in the sacred fantasy in her mind. Like a shy person observing her lover in her dreams, she watched cautiously from a distance.

It only exists in poetry, salons and dreams.

And now.

Once those decisions are made.

I will never look back again.

As Gu Weijing said, the distant and close views, lightning and thunderclouds, candles and windows in oil paintings all have a common theme...

It is light, and it will seek freedom.
-
……

“This is my version of the story about the painting ‘The Old Church on a Thunderstorm’.”

Anna said.

"Of course, except for the legendary painting that was left far away, all of Carla's remaining works were burned by the furious Count. So far, I have no definite evidence to prove that Carla played an important role in the early Impressionism, or that this painting was really painted by her..."

Anna didn't want to say these words.

In the version of the story that Miss Elena originally wanted to tell, Kara would be more like a suffering saint.

The woman was quite dignified, even overbearing, and her territory would not tolerate any unauthorized intruders - the same was true of her interviews and her stage performances.

Compared to Miss Elena in the story.

On the contrary, the Miss Elena on the stage is more like the person in her words, "Hey, I will get there, I will do something, whether you are happy or not, no matter what you want to think."

Once Anna sets out, whether she is driving the lion chariot, or driving her small wheelchair with Dududu, leading her dog August, or moving forward step by step like a sloth.

She vowed to reach the end.

She is the world's biggest actress and the most demanding opera director. She writes the lines for her own stage plays herself, then goes on stage with a sword in hand to swat the flies that come uninvited, and chop off the heads of all her enemies, making them scream and howl all over the stage.

Miss Irina said that the painting was painted by Kara.

She wanted everyone in the world to believe without a doubt that the painting was painted by Kara.

however.

Before Anna opened her mouth, she felt that if this was a stage play performed for Grandma Kara one hundred and fifty years late, perhaps compared to her flawless lines, Gu Weijing...he might be the one who was more to her liking.

A lot of words today.

Alexander ignored him, but Anna listened carefully.

"How about this."

Anna thought for a moment, and suddenly said, "Miss Elliot, can you bring me my checkbook?"

Everyone waited for more than ten seconds.

The secretary came hurriedly from the backstage of the opera house holding Anna's handbag, took out a check, and took a black pen from her pocket and gave it to the woman.

Anna opened her check folder, wrote a number on it, then pulled it out and showed it to everyone present.

"3"

A large check for "300 million euros".

"Let me put it this way. I'm not going to take back the money I issued before." Anna put the check on the stage.

"Mr. Gu just said that he wants to donate the painting 'Old Church on a Thunderstorm'."

"There were many things that we didn't have a clear understanding of before. There are still many things to deal with regarding that painting. His previous promise may have been made without knowing the true value of the painting. No matter how this matter is handled... I have also made a promise."

"Mr. Gu had previously asked Dr. Gustav how much he thought the painting was worth. He said it was worth between $50 and $100 million. What Mr. Gu didn't say was that he made this decision after having already rejected an offer of 300 million euros."

Anna crossed her arms.

"Personally, I admire such courage."

"Mr. Alexander said that anyone can make empty promises, saying that there is too much room for maneuver. We must come up with a clear charter, and even invited me to be an impartial person."

the woman said.

"That makes a lot of sense."

"So, for the promise just now, I think it would be better to handle it like this. Here, today, right now. In Mr. Gu's name, I will donate 300 million euros in cash on his behalf. Oil Painting magazine is preparing a large art project recently... I have decided to set up a foundation here."

“A foundation for prizes like the Goncourt Prize, the Booker Prize, and so on.”

"The Goncourt brothers donated about 100 million francs to set up a separate foundation and established the Goncourt Prize to reward writers who have made outstanding contributions to French literary writing. Oil Painting magazine has always had such a plan."

"In the conversation just now, Mr. Gu mentioned the concept of frustrated people and the shadow of art. I think this is also very well said and very touching."

Anna clapped her hands gently.

"So I have an idea. I just said that unfortunately, we can't find evidence to prove whether Carla played a key role in the development of early Impressionism, like Mary Cosart. But it doesn't matter. Whether she did or not, as a descendant, I hope to do something to help her make up for this regret."

Can the living help the dead ghosts?
Anna looked at the curtain behind the auditorium in the distance of the opera house and asked herself quietly in her heart.

She tapped her fingertips slowly.

"I know that in history, there was a famous private painting circle of the Impressionists on the banks of the Seine, the so-called 'Salon of the Rejected'. Carla participated in many salons in her life, but because of her status, she was not able to participate in that small salon."

"Then let's do this -"

"I think it would be better to call this foundation 'The Foundation for the Frustrated'. It should be established jointly by Oil Painting magazine and Mr. Gu Weijing, of course, provided that he doesn't mind," Anna said.

(Please give me a vote at the end of the month!)

(End of this chapter)