The Versatile Master Artist

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"The Old Count had a very good relationship with this aunt who often took him out to play when he was a child. He watched as she died beside him under the dual torment of mind and body. That must have had a tremendous emotional impact on him."

The bouquet of white roses in front of Anna swayed gently in the wind.

Eliot, on the other hand, tapped the floor uneasily with the tip of his shoe.

She was the kind of little girl with a hint of aristocratic fetish, who loved the romantic 19th century from an early age.

In the accounts of middle school textbooks, this period of history is referred to as the "Golden Age", the last prosperous time of the beautiful Old Europe before war.

Her imagination was often filled with scenes styled like Proust’s "In Search of Lost Time".

A handsome young officer dressed in riding boots and armed with a sword and pistol dancing gracefully in the salon under the sunset, with a girl wearing a pleated skirt and a silver brooch on her chest, bathed in the music of the waltz.

But imagination and reality are always different.

When the heir of the Ilyena family recounted these past events in Eliot’s ear.

The gritty, bloody dust of history came rushing forward, enveloping the secretary Miss.

It was only then that she instantly realized.

When people recall historical figures, they habitually use subjective filters.

Many rulers and lords known for their benevolence in history books treated human lives like grass. Those bishops and monks canonized by the Vatican also sold indulgences and spread the burning stakes of witches along the Rhine River.

Even the great and immortal Tolstoy continually repented in his memoirs for his youthful acts of whipping his serf servants like wild dogs.

The feudal era is just that, the feudal era.

Even the most gentle, most civilized, and most art-loving Ilyena family of aristocrats had done such cruel and inhumane things.

"Did Lady Kara just die like that? Leaving nothing behind? Not even a painting?"

Anna was silent for a few seconds, shaking her head and then nodding.

"The records say Grandma Kara died of tuberculosis after being imprisoned for a few years. It’s hard to say whether it was fortunate or unfortunate."

"If she had held on for a few more years, she might have outlived her brother, or perhaps death was a form of release for Grandma Kara at that time."

"During my student years, I once read a set of photos, news photos of an illegal confinement case exposed by the French police in the last century. A noblewoman was locked in an attic by her mother for sixteen years, and the girl, who was originally as beautiful as a fairy in the photos, had been tormented by confinement into a ghostly figure."

Anna removed the felt hat from her head, pinching the brim with her hand.

"I want to say, the Ilyena family are by no means noble sages, my ancestors did many right things, but also many irreparable wrongs. So ’Oil Painting’ magazine doesn’t have to be tied to the name Ilyena."

"It’s just that from the moment this magazine was founded, it was merely a container for the souls of artists, not the hands that manipulate the art market. In the eyes of the Old Count, the editors of the magazine were not really writing art criticism, only serving as a bridge between excellent art and the audience, allowing the paintings to tell their beauty to the world."

Meanwhile, they will uphold perseverance, regardless of wealth, birth, and gender, showcasing excellent painters from all over the world to collectors across the globe. Helping the next possible painter like Grandma Kara."

If the magazine lost this persevering trait, ’Oil Painting’ magazine is already dead. What’s left is just an empty shell. This is why I, knowing the outcome of today’s shareholders meeting, still chose to be here today."

"To... pay tribute to Kara."

Anna gave a hat-off salute to the bronze statue, then turned slightly to bow in gratitude to the street band not far away playing "The Blue Danube" for her.

The girl turned to let the wheelchair head toward the main door of the Oil Painting Magazine.

-----------------

Ten minutes later, the top floor of the magazine, the large meeting room.

"Mr. Hlefe, I heard you successfully persuaded the Metropolitan Museum’s foundation to allocate 36.55 million US Dollars in funding to purchase a Monet ’Haystack’ at the beginning of the year at the Pauli Paris Spring Auction? Quite a grand gesture. If my memory hasn’t failed me due to old age, the Metropolitan Museum already owns a ’Haystack’ and two ’Water Lilies’, right?"

"Exactly right, Sir Brown, rest assured, your memory is as accurate as a young man’s. I’ve always believed that Impressionism is a stable and valuable investment in the field of art, much more stable than similarly-priced Pop Art. The opportunity to own a Monet is always very precious, especially since in 2019, another ’Haystack’ sold for 110.6 million US Dollars."

"Alas, I heard the ’Haystack’ you bought isn’t in very good condition, with traces of later restoration?" said another person with Asian features dressed in a dark blue formal suit.

"You get what you pay for, 36 million US Dollars is much cheaper than one billion dollars. Four paintings by Monet, two by Degas, one by Renoir, two by Seurat, one by Miss Mary, three by Manet. Counting this painting, the Metropolitan Museum’s current collection is enough to open a small Impressionism exhibition."

The Metropolitan Museum’s Chief Art Consultant, Mr. Hlefe, turned his head to ask, "Speaking of which, Professor Sakurai Rikuya, you are a seasoned curator with significant research on Impressionist art styles, your tonal analysis of Pissarro’s works in ’Asian Art’ was impressive. If I extend an invitation right now, I wonder if Professor Sakurai would be interested in curating this special exhibition?"

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