Almighty painter

Chapter 893 Liu Ziming's Salon
"Of course there are things in the world that are lighter than air and heavier than iron. They are just simple blocks of color, but they can spin, jump, float, and fly—"

"A Rothko painting?"

"I don't know. I'm talking about a cat named Awang."

——Gu Weijing——
clang.

Gu Tongxiang fell on the bed in the Mirochor Hotel.

The tabby cat nimbly jumped onto the windowsill next to it, glanced back lazily, and with an expression of extreme disdain, it knocked the bath flower next to it to the ground with one paw.

Bathing, like dieting, is a fuss of bored mortals.

"You won't starve to death if you don't diet, and you won't die of dirt if you don't take a bath" - if one day, cats rule the world like in the movie "Rise of the Planet of the Apes", when Awang orders Little Guzi and Old Guzi to carve a huge and majestic figure of themselves using the granite of the entire mountain like the Borglum father and son carved Mount Rushmore, he will definitely order this golden rule to be carved next to it.

Another weekend after the interview.

In the afternoon.

When it was just getting dark outside the window, Gu Tongxiang came to the door dressed coolly.

He came to pick up his grandson to go to Liu Ziming's social gathering.

Grandpa Gu Tongxiang and his grandson first briefly discussed the new contract with the Metz Gallery that had just been signed.

Wei Jing discussed this matter with him several times, and neither of us thought there was anything wrong with it.

Gu Tongxiang mentioned briefly before that he prefers a long-term contract with more stability and relatively generous security clauses.

but.

Gu Weijing thought this contract was very good.

After Gu Tongxiang gave his serious suggestions, he just let things take their course.

This Tuesday, five days ago... they had signed a new contract with the brokerage team of the Ma Shi Gallery who flew to Singapore.

The gallery representative who came to sign the contract was still Hanks.

Marcus III was also a wonderful man.

The main content of his new contract is really just one piece of paper with only one sentence, and there is not even an appendix - "This is probably the simplest signed contract in the industry in the past 20 years."

When Gu Weijing signed the contract.

Hanks said with emotion.

Maastricht III hopes that such an artistic contract can be displayed in an art gallery one day in the future, just like those Dadaist works, with large areas of white space, extremely simple composition, or even only one ink spot on a huge canvas, which can lead to a series of various philosophical debates.

The gallery's legal team believes.

It is hard to say whether it can trigger philosophical discussions, but it is quite easy to trigger legal discussions, and it may even lead to a series of various economic disputes.

Anyway, Hanks said with a wry smile.

“Whether in an art gallery or a jury in a court, it is certain to spark a series of debates.”

This time Hanks wasn't alone.

Ma Shi III came with a blank contract and a team of four people.

"They are all elites, gentlemen or... beasts. It depends on how you view them and what you ask them to do for you."

Mr. Agent said.

The entire team is part of the PR department of the Ma Shi Gallery, and these people are very good at marketing and packaging an artist and their works.

They can connect you with critics, design posters for you, and get you the judges' art appreciation notes.

And if there is a need for some "unique tricks".

When they learn that the trash cans there contain unpaid bills from the curator or the chairman of the jury, and that they can be blackmailed into paying the bills, they will rush to search the trash cans without hesitation, howling.

People in the gallery like to call this group of people the "killer team."

They treated the award as ruthlessly as professional killers treat their targets. As long as Mars III gave the order, they would rack their brains and come back with the target's head.

To the gallery, they may be much more important than Hanks.

Hanks, who is in charge of signing contracts, is the pendant and the entourage in this small team.

of course.

"It's just a joking metaphor. After all, they are not real killers. They are just good at public relations." Hanks joked again.

And the Biennale has come to this moment.

No matter how professional the professional team from the Ma Shi Gallery is, there is a limit to what they can do.

The reason why Marcus III sent an elite team here was more to show his attitude.

"At least, if you win the award, Hanks said, they can write you a warm thank-you speech."

Gu Tongxiang repeated.

The old man told Gu Weijing while silently hoping that they would have good luck searching through Tonks's trash can.

All that can be done has been done.

At times like this, it's better to relax and let nature take its course.

He looked at his watch.

Staring at the cat eating at the cat bowl on the floor.

"The F1 Grand Prix race is at 9:00 p.m. Mr. Liu said that we just need to be at the port before 8:00 p.m. It's a bit early to go out now. Why don't we take this opportunity to give it a bath? Have you seen Miss Elena's big dog?"

Old Man Gu is a good learner.

"How beautiful."

He gave instructions: "You will be right if you listen to me. It needs to be styled. We need to take care of our Awang. Wild cat habits are not elegant enough."

"Not an ARTIST at all! Let's give it a bath first, then..."

Think about it.

When the outstanding life mentor, Hemingway's fan, the strong man in the world of pretentiousness, the master of posing, and the contracted painter of the Hermes Gallery, Mr. "Tong Xiang Gu", fell flat on his bed in the 25th minute and his lumbar disc herniation was about to recur.

He will definitely have a new and profound understanding of the saying "let it be".

"Wei Jing, come on, help me check if the skin on my chin has been scratched."
-
Night falls.

7:49 pm.

At this point, Singapore had completely fallen into night, and the neon lights in the distant city lit up one after another.

The city lights were too bright at night and it was cloudy all day, so there were no stars or moon in the sky and the sea looked a little dim.

The waves are surging.

The sound of waves continues.

"I checked the weather forecast and it says it will rain for two hours tonight, starting around 9:30, which is when the race should be halfway through."

The cargo ship "Perugia Polo". Age of the ship is 19 years and 6 months.

Displacement: 63000 tons.

It is not the largest ship sailing through the busy Strait of Malacca. Large container ships or LNG ships easily displace more than 10 tons. In the ocean freight companies, ships like the Perugia Polo are only considered medium-sized.

Thanks to the development of modern shipbuilding industry.

In fact, its tonnage is nearly 50% larger than the famous "Titanic", the treasure of the White Star Line, the pearl of the Atlantic route, a hundred years ago.

As it sails at the junction of sea and sky.

People would think it was just a slowly moving ship, but when it docked at the harbor and ordinary people stood below it, they would realize that it was as big as a city floating on the sea.

A local art reporter craned his neck and tried hard to look up at the deck above.

Said casually.

"The Sky Sports commentary predicts that there will probably be an exciting race. However, I don't want that to happen. Two Ferrari cars on the front row. It's been so many years, the last time such a scene happened was during the Ferrari dynasty in the early 00s. I'd rather it not rain."

"Starting from the front row, leading one or two, and running 52 laps around the street safely, it doesn't matter if the scene is a little boring."

The style of the salon is entirely controlled by the owner.

Everyone can be serious as if they were listening to a formal symphony performance, or relaxed as if they were having a party in their spare time.

As two tourism business cards, they were held almost simultaneously to boost the cultural economy and city image.

Most of the guests today are related to the Lion City Art Biennale, but the official theme of the social salon is set as watching the "Formula One Singapore Grand Prix". It is obvious that the host here does not want the atmosphere of the party to be too serious.

This is a place to relax and chat.

Rather than a place to work hard.

Perhaps it is not appropriate to use a modifier as flashy as "joyful", but the organizers hope that the guests will not be too tense and can spend a relatively relaxing night here.

"I agree."

The owner of the salon seemed to be very familiar with the cultural reporter.

He reached out and patted the other man's arm.

"Oh, are you also from Tiefusi?" the reporter asked with a smile, "I thought you would support Mercedes. You have a good relationship with Lewis, right? I heard that the world champion contacted you when he was creating his own personal clothing brand?"

(Note: Tofosi is the Italian name for fans of Ferrari and Juventus football team.)
"I mean I hope it doesn't rain."

Liu Ziming looked at the sky and shook his head. "I hired a party company to decorate the open-air deck and spent a lot of time and effort on it."

The way the man looked at the other.

smiled.

"Party companies and the like are small expenses, but next time, I won't be able to find such a big ship. When a cargo ship like this goes out to sea, even if it's empty, the fuel cost is much more expensive than the party money."

"And the guests are very interesting. You should be able to write a good article. I really put a lot of thought into this salon."

"You mean Gu?"

the reporter asked.

He pursed his lips.

"You mentioned him to me before. Come on, this enviable man, there is no shortage of excellent articles. Did you know that the New York Times reported this incident yesterday? Even though it was only on page 3, but... it was the New York Times."

"Believe me. Every team spends hundreds of millions of dollars every year on racing. Lion City spends hundreds of millions of dollars on night street races. A mountain of money has been spent. But tonight, the first one to cross the finish line and greet the checkered flag, whether it is Ferrari or Mercedes, may not be able to appear on the third page of the New York Times."

"And Oil Painting magazine, aren't they going to publish a special issue on this matter in the next few days?"

The reporter looked particularly emotional.

"That's true. The problem is that everyone is paying attention to the paintings of Elena's family, not his paintings."

Liu Ziming's voice was deep and clear.

“Gu Weijing is an artist.”

“The very good kind.”

"I agree with that," the reporter said.

"Then do you agree that being noticed by others may be a joyful thing for an artist? However, an artist should have more than that. The ambition of an excellent painter would not be as simple as wanting to be remembered for discovering other people's paintings."

“The media should discover Gu Weijing’s own paintings. He came to Singapore as a painter participating in the Biennale. All the news focused on the works he found, and the works he and Director Irina discussed in the Opera House. However, his own works were also displayed in the exhibition hall of the Esplanade, and seemed to be... ignored.”

"That's not a bad work of art," Liu Ziming said.

"Of course, I agree."

The reporter smiled in agreement.

"No, I mean, you've seen that painting, right? I'm not saying it's not bad, but I'm saying it's no worse than the painting of 'The Old Church in a Thunderstorm'."

"Gu Weijing's paintings are no worse than those of Carol or Ms. K."

"Today, the media is full of articles about the "Old Church in a Thunderstorm". In comparison, Gu Weijing's own works can even be said to be ignored. And that "Old Church in a Thunderstorm"... that is already a painting by an ancient artist!"

Liu Ziming's tone at this moment was clearly that of a complaint.

"If you ask me, many people have put the cart before the horse. Gu Weijing's primary identity is an artist, not one of those who paints celebrities."

“Celebrity paintings have their own merits, but I insist that the purest painters should be noticed for their works themselves!”

The reporter opened his mouth.

In the end, he just smiled bitterly twice.

Mr. Liu's words are easy to say, but his stance should not be too obvious.

How many people want to paint celebrity portraits but don't have the opportunity.

Say.

A merely excellent painting cannot be compared with the work of this early Impressionist painter, who perhaps witnessed the birth of the most important school in the history of Western oil painting.

Gu Weijing is far from being qualified to be compared with a painter like Ms. K., because of whom the entire Oil Painting magazine was born.

It's like.

Today’s painters draw a muscle anatomy diagram and claim that theirs is more accurate than Leonardo da Vinci’s. Why can others sell it for 100 million yuan, but they can’t?

This is really a comparison like Guan Gong vs. Qin Qiong.

To put it in a more sarcastic way.

If it weren't for Kara and Elena's family, how could Gu Weijing be qualified to receive so much attention and be featured in the New York Times?
Mr. Liu certainly understands such a simple truth.

The reporter actually understood what the other party meant.

He just remained silent helplessly.

(End of this chapter)