The Versatile Master Artist

”This must be a staged actor! I think, maybe this guy is Detective Cat himself.”

The female assistant exhaled hatefully, unwilling to believe that such a ridiculous thing could happen.

In her mind, she was cynically suspecting that the comments under this podcast might have been staged by the so-called Detective Cat himself.

Van Doorn was silently pressing his phone.

He clicked through the comments to the author page of ”White Lake Baikal” submission, checking the Twitter link attached, just glancing at it casually.

Judging by past photos shared on Twitter, this Remond seems to be half a Professional Painter, half an art merchant.

The person introduced themselves as a graduate from the Slade School of Fine Art, London, and currently operating a small community gallery in Hohenheim, Germany.

Not wealthy, but not poorly off either.

Such a person is considered the backbone of the art industry.

Compared to himself, the big shot, there’s no comparison,

but in the eyes of ordinary people, he is considered a well-mixed, elegant Artist.

The probability of the other party being Detective Cat, who previously had to sell ten dollar illustrations online, is extremely low, even lower than being a hired actor.

If nothing unexpected happens,

the things mentioned in Remond’s message should all be true.

”Maybe it’s good luck, perhaps Detective Cat happened to read that issue of the magazine.”

Van Doorn frowned as he spoke.

The assistant didn’t respond this time, because she heard the uncertainty in Van Doorn’s tone.

She secretly glanced at Van Doorn’s expression.

The great Artist’s eyes were slightly narrowed, his face terrifyingly dark.

Even if he didn’t want to admit it, Van Doorn knew,

predicting the feeling of a Painter just from a painting’s depiction is definitely not luck or Witchcraft.

People with such keen artistic intuition and art cultivation truly exist in the industry.

Once, some of the most senior art connoisseurs, who’ve been in the industry for decades and studied art psychology, could restore and profile the mental state of Painters during creation just by looking at the final work.

If it was Curator Tangkis or Mr. Tree Sloth saying such things, Van Doorn could accept it.

But why does it have to be Detective Cat?

Bull shit!

Why the hell can it be her?

Is she even worthy?

The more Van Doorn thought about it, the more anxious he became, likened to a lion king whose authority has been challenged.

He wasn’t even this angry when insulted by that lame Elina in the video.

What truly fueled Van Doorn’s rage is that, deep down inside, something was telling him — ”I can’t do that.”

His ability to grasp serious art was less than that of a network illustrator.

Unbelievable, unacceptable.

Yet it’s a fact.

Van Doorn’s painting style inherently favored appearances over substance, often using various tangled lines and exaggerated colors to decorate the canvas.

Although visually impactful, it lacked spiritual depth.

Miss Elina criticizing Van Doorn’s paintings for illogical emotions and needless wailing wasn’t baseless.

Van Doorn didn’t think that was bad.

His pursuit has never been greatness,

but success.

Success is much easier than greatness and has shortcuts to take.

Van Gogh painted himself into madness without any acclaim, while some trendy Artists could mold a bizarre clay cup and sell it for one hundred thousand dollars.

Success requires reputation, authority, hype, and social media followers’ recognition.

To be blunt,

in Van Doorn’s eyes, having others believe his art is good is far more important than actually being able to paint well.

As long as you look authoritative enough, with enough Collectors chasing your work.

As long as you look successful enough, with millions wearing your artistic symbols walking through Metropolis’ neon streets every year.

Even if you paint a pile of crap, you’d still be a fashion art pioneer with work valued higher than gold.

But,

No matter how avant-garde, he had self-respect.

A network Illustrator he disdained actually being more sensitive to artistic emotion than him.

This made Van Doorn internally irate and ashamed.

”What good is understanding art? Such network illustrators, without sufficient heavyweight commissions, ultimately are insignificant nobodies.”

Van Doorn exhaled through his nose.

”It’s just a niche podcast, with only ten thousand followers. The stage is so small, no matter how well you speak won’t make any waves.”

He seemed to be speaking to the female assistant or perhaps comforting himself.

”That’s right, Darling.”

The assistant observed the situation and timely gave a gentle kiss.

She knew her boss wasn’t in a good mood now.

”It’s a pity we didn’t get the phone number of that damn journalist. Otherwise, we could pay to get the interview record back.”

The assistant recalled the previous interview and sighed, ”No, in hindsight, we should’ve directly paid to have him delete the photos.”

The middle-aged journalist uncle’s initial candid photography posed considerable legal issues; even if Van Doorn did nothing, he might not dare publish them.

The guy first claimed he spent 200 Euro bribing the boat driver, which might indicate Van Doorn to offer money to remove the photos.

Probably wanted to pay for peace, three to four hundred Euro would likely suffice.

With the conduct of European entertainment journalists, once they get their teeth into news like a dog with a bone, even if it’s nothing, making them give it up without a fight isn’t possible.