Almighty painter

Chapter 983 The Beloved Painter
“You’ve heard some rumors,” the old woman said confidently.

Deckard Anlen remained expressionless.

As part of the gossip, it wasn't just the Deckard Anron on the plywood and the strange dart rumors that circulated from this studio.

"do not like."

Sarah's answer was quite straightforward.

"Whatever rumors you hear, they are probably true."

"Oh."

Mr. Anlun processed the information, trying to feign surprise, but his act didn't quite work. Even though he had never heard the rumors before, and had witnessed that highly charged conversation in the downstairs hall... Sarah's dislike for certain things in this room was also quite obvious.

“Mr. Mash, you must be very, very sad and disappointed to hear this opinion,” said Deckard Anlen.

“I’ve heard that the finances of the Maestro III aren’t doing too well,” the old lady said bluntly. “I read an article a few weeks ago that compared the Maestro Gallery to Manchester United in England.”

"To be honest, Manchester United may not agree with this description."

Anlun thought for a moment.

"The Glazer family isn't short of money. Their minor financial problems are merely due to UEFA's Financial Fair Play regulations. Regardless, Manchester United is the most profitable and commercially valuable club in the world. [Mr. Gallery]"

Is the Hermès Gallery the most profitable gallery in the world? That's not entirely wrong.

The Maestro Gallery had its glorious days, the only problem being that... Marilyn Monroe was still alive back then.

The old lady, Sarah, hummed in agreement, sounding uninterested in the topic.

Deckard Anlen shook his head.

He wasn't interested, or at least not that interested. Different people have different concerns, and worrying about the operation of the Maes Gallery wasn't Mr. Anlun's number one concern.

It's a good thing that Maestro III can wield such influence in the market and command such power.

But why should Deckard Anron cheer if the rain and provisions he summons don't fall upon him?
"If Andy Warhol were still alive, what do you think he would think of this art exhibition today?"

Mr. Anlun asked meaningfully.

"Ok?"

Sarah asked.

"Superstar? Is this the superstar-style exhibition he was hoping for? Probably not."

Anlun said, "Throughout his life, Andy Warhol was searching for those superstar types, people who possessed talents that were irreplaceable. Disorder, eccentricity, obsessive-compulsive disorder..."

Deckard Anlen pondered for a moment.

Sara recalled an amusing saying about him—"the kind of person who would pick up a cherry with their toes and eat it."

Deckard Anlen is right; Gu Weijing doesn't look like the type of artist who would eat cherries with his toes.

"In 1964, I had just joined the magazine 'Painting' as an intern assistant. My first project was to cover the Venice Biennale that year, and the Biennale's prize was awarded to Robert Rauschenberg."

Anlun whistled.

Rauschenberg was an American painter born in Texas who directly promoted the development of Pop Art. The renowned Pace Wildenstein Gallery made its name by representing Rauschenberg's works.

“This is considered a landmark event in art history.” The old lady recalled the past. “An American took the most dazzling crown in the European art industry, and the magazine was in an uproar at the time… That was my first impression of Pop Art.”

“Ms. Elena said that as an Austrian, like many Austrians, she once believed that Vienna was the true heart of Europe and the art capital of Europe. But after 1938, it seemed to have ‘lost’ its right to continue competing with Paris.”

"In contrast to the disgrace of that day."

"1964 seems to be the year that Pop Art was crowned with glory. No matter how many art critics at the time found it incredible, incomprehensible, or even infuriating, many believed that after that year, even though Picasso was still alive and living in the lavender fields of southern France, he remained an artistic miracle."

"The heart of European art is no longer Paris, but New York."

"Do you like it, Pope?" Deckard Anron asked cautiously. "I heard... you like my work."

"Yes. Your previous exhibition at the Louvre Abu Dhabi. I wasn't there in person, but I looked at every single piece very carefully."

Sarah nodded again.

The old lady said it bluntly.

“I loved it. I think it was the most interesting exhibition at the Maes Gallery in recent years, and it would rank among the top five art exhibitions in the world that year.”

Mr. Anlun stood there and swayed for a moment.

Well... the surprise came way too suddenly, okay?

It's like going to buy a lottery ticket with the mindset of winning 5 yuan, getting your money back, and maybe even buying a bag of spicy snacks on the way. Who knew you'd win 500 million yuan?

The rumors are true!
Deckard Anlen longed for the worst... Sarah really admired him.

however.

Deckard Anlen never even dreamed that this old lady would admire him so much.

Wow, that's awesome!
Mr. Anlun knew that his art exhibition was a complete disaster. After being severely criticized by Miss Elena, he was not only not being criticized by the critics, but was even worse off. This time, the critics seemed too lazy to even criticize him.

Few newspapers and art critics continued to lash him out; everyone felt that Anna's scolding had been quite effective, and there was no need to continue "rewarding" Deckard Anron.

For those who want to build a business myth.

Forgetting is more terrifying than criticism.

No one loves him, so no one hates him.

The Maes Gallery also hopes to continue investing money and contacting familiar media outlets to create some buzz in the market, a scenario reminiscent of riding an old, rusty, and flat bicycle.

The resources were thrown down hard, and after a couple of pedal strokes, the bicycle barely managed to move forward a little.

The effort stopped.

The bicycle then stopped.

Deckard Anlen took a deep breath, rolled up his sleeves, and tried to stand up and pedal with all his might. Then, he looked up and saw a mountain coming towards him.

Anna Elena, riding aboard the cargo ship that was twice the size of the Titanic, blew the ship's horn and ran right over Deckard Anron's face, as if she were casually crushing a broken bottle on the sea.

What's even more tragic is.

This time, Miss Elena wasn't intentionally targeting him; she simply naturally drew 99 percent of the art world's attention.

Compared to the towering waves stirred up by the large ship, the splashes made by Deckard Anron, who was pedaling his bicycle with all his might, were nothing more than throwing a broken bottle into the water.

Poor Deckard Anlen has lost all his self-confidence.

Before he spoke, he wasn't quite sure if Ms. Sarah really knew about his art exhibition. Who knew?

"Is this the best exhibition at the Maestro Gallery in recent years, ranking among the top five of all exhibitions that year?"

Ohhhhh!
He excitedly imagined pounding his chest like a gorilla, then reaching out his long arms to grab Maes III by the collar, dragging him from his French holiday villa, pressing the big boss's neck, and shoving his ears in front of Sarah's eyes.

listen!
Clean your ears and listen carefully, listen attentively, listen repeatedly. After listening, write it down from memory a hundred times, then kneel down and call me Dad.

"What, so you're the Maestro III? You're the only one who... didn't throw money at me? You're the only one who didn't approve that 1000 million euros for him? You're the only one who insisted on giving Gu Weijing an incredibly lenient contract."

What exactly is a contrarian investment genius?
Do you know why the Hermès Gallery has been losing money all these years?

This is the result of not recognizing a great person when you have eyes.

Dac Amren, no, Mr. "Mr. Mascherano" was thrilled.

Sarah noticed this, and as if she felt Deckard Anlen wasn't satisfied enough, she added something extra.

"I think your exhibition is better than Gu Weijing's. Your most brilliant aspects are precisely what Gu Weijing's works lack most—"

"Sharp observations and insights into modern life."

She praised him.

“Oh, yes, yes, my exhibition had a lot of ingenious ideas…” Deckard Anlen nodded repeatedly, no longer paying much attention to Gu Weijing’s exhibition.

He's here.

Ms. Sarah was right next to her.

Instead of wasting such precious time, why not go to the side and give him a personal interview? He could earn himself a piece of media coverage, which is much better than complaining about Gu Weijing here.

"I met Gu Weijing once a while ago as a judge for the Master Project."

Sarah, on the other hand, kept complaining about Gu Weijing, and she couldn't get enough of it.

"The Master Project? A project under the Oil Painting magazine?" Anlun pricked up one ear.

“A residency program for young artists. The magazine *Painting* was involved,” Sarah said. “I gave it a 5 out of 10.”

“I admit, for a student, his drawing is quite good.” Upon hearing it was a student project, Deckard Anlen lowered his ear again. Unfamiliar with the German grading system, he offered a perfunctory compliment, “A perfect score would be normal. The brushstrokes and lines are all very good. What he lacks is more refinement and polishing. You seem very fair—”

"No. The lower the score, the better. 4 points is the passing grade, and 5 points is a failing grade."

Sarah said.

"On the other hand, in the art world, genuine social observation and heartfelt reflection are far more important than brushstrokes and lines. How difficult is it to paint a beautiful picture? How many of the great works of art throughout history have truly won solely through their beauty? It's like the difference between the elderly and the young. Focusing only on beauty, on lines and brushstrokes, while ignoring true depth, is like seeing only a single tree and ignoring the entire forest before you," Deckard Anlen said without changing his expression. "If this were a beauty pageant, Miss Elena would definitely win, but if we're comparing artistic insight—"

“But that day, I gave everyone else in the project a score of 6. Gu Weijing was already the one with the highest score.”

Sarah stared at the artwork in front of her and said slowly.

Mr. Anlun opened his mouth.

Mr. Anlun shut his mouth.

Mr. Anlun decided to remain silent.

Socializing with some people is so difficult, what's wrong with me? Sister, are you doing this on purpose?

"Anyone who speaks with heavy breathing should be dragged out and hanged."

Deckard Anlen thought to himself.

"Many artists, in their later years, fall into a cycle of confusion, not knowing what they want to paint or what they should express. They can't find their anchor. Even the greatest artists may not be able to escape a complex vicious cycle. They still retain their creativity, but they don't know how to use it."

"They didn't sink in the tide, they just lost their way."

Sarah said.

"Gu Weijing was the only student among all the students that day who asked me 'Why?' He questioned my decision and the judgment I made about him. I think this means something, that he has his own thoughts on art itself."

“I made sure every student could clearly see their score. But no one ever asked me why.”

“I’m not satisfied with any of the students that day. None of them had found the answer yet, but since that’s the case, the only one who tried to find the problem deserves an extra point.”

Sarah scanned the artwork before her.

Compared to when she last came here, some of the works have changed.

The lines and colors have been distorted.

Some painters, according to legend, can depict everything in the world with a single line. Gu Weijing, however, expresses an abstract sense of time, an abstract night sky.

This work, titled "Midnight," is even more somber than the previous one.

During the painting process, he added a tiny bit of titanium white, or perhaps cadmium red? Sarah's focus wasn't on that; she was paying attention to more than just the changes in the paint.

When she looks at her artwork, it's as if she's gazing at the ground from the other side of the universe.

This work, however, is a view of the universe from the ground.

What a classic visual angle! The perspective of each work in this studio is not particularly unique.

First came the rose.

Next is "Starry Night".

Sarah was looking at Gu Weijing's paintings, and she could feel that Gu Weijing's paintings were looking at her.

"Unfortunately, my art exhibition did not seem to be very successful in terms of the critical reception."

Sarah's long silence made Deckard Anron unable to contain himself any longer, so he shifted the topic to himself.

He was seducing the old lady next to him.

Hey?
Stop looking at that, look here.

The greatest painters and creators of the most interesting exhibitions at the Maes Gallery are right next to you!

Interview me, please.

Please, please interview me!
I believe that exhibition can still be salvaged, and there is still a great deal of depth that can be explored.

Dear Sister Sarah, what are you waiting for?

Let me tell you a secret! If you were to quit your job and become my agent, I would absolutely, positively, positively not refuse!

(End of this chapter)