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‘He just wanted to get into your good graces.’
‘I might have thought so myself, if it wouldn’t be the truth.’ Her almost whispered words cause a short but livid flop of my heart. It was always that easy for her. With her next question she breaks the spell before it even had a chance to set off. ‘Do you think this artist deserves an exposition at the gallery?’
‘Uhm… yeah…yes…his work is audacious and daring, but the bold use of colors invites you to look pass that and then you see the deeper meaning behind every piece. It just speaks and that’s what you want right?’
With her hands in the pockets of her suit pants she listens carefully as if I am on the same level of expertise as she is when it comes to art. She never did it any other way, in the beginning I found it foolish, but over the years she took me to so many expositions, lectures and museums and taught me so much about her passion, that it became an almost natural thing to talk about it with her. Above all she gave me the feeling that she valued my opinion. Whatever that opinion could be.
‘I do want to challenge people. There is not only one way to expose people to art. It’s about presenting them diversity and letting them make up their own mind. And I think this artist is fitting the direction I want the gallery to take perfectly.’
‘I’m sorry I had to take that call.’ The young artist with messy hair apologizes as he enters the room again, putting his phone back in his pocket.
‘Ah there you are.’
‘So what do you think?’
‘My wife finds your work audacious and daring.’ The softness of her fingertips against the small of my back contradicts her full on business mode. ‘I do see the youth in your work but I don’t see that as a minus point. On the contrary. I will advise James to contact you about further details.’
Very soon she wraps up the conversation and we enter the wide garden that’s maintained with sharp precision and love for all that grows. ‘So how does this all work? What happens next?’ I ask while lazily strolling the garden on our way to the car.