The Versatile Master Artist

”Thank you for your insights. Your painting technique is very rare and special. Please continue to follow your own path. It’s not that oil painting is bad, but in the monotonous international painting market, if a painter loses their national characteristics, it becomes even harder to stand out. Combining Eastern art with Western flair, imitating Lang Shining is a good start. Perhaps consider participating in some Asian exhibitions—”

Miss Elina scrolled through the message records, still offering her advice with the professional keen eye of a former visual arts editor at Oil Painting Magazine.

Disappointment isn’t really this old man named Gu Tongxiang’s fault.

The direction of his work is still worth encouraging.

To attract the attention of a first-class Grand Gallery like Ma Shi Gallery from a small place like Myanmar certainly encapsulates decades of effort for this elderly man in his sixties.

”—I am willing to follow your work long-term,” she replied.

”Thank you, thank you.”

The other party seemed somewhat flattered.

The old painter from Yangon seemed a little hesitant about whether to say something.

Just as Anna was about to close the phone screen, he sent another line of new message.

”Actually, many aspects of my painting technique come from my grandson’s guidance.”

”He may be debuting in an exhibition this year. I wonder if a collector like you would be willing to pay attention to his work. If you could give him some pointers, I would be very grateful.”

”Is that so? Your grandson is also a painter. He mustn’t be very old this year, right? What’s his name?” Anna asked casually.

”His name is GU·WEIJING, this year he’s eighteen.”

Even the old painter probably realized that introducing an eighteen-year-old painter to a major collector might seem a bit... strange.

Except in rare cases.

At this age, creators should probably be called art students or perhaps classical art apprentices rather than painters.

”Although he’s young, I assure you, this kid is a real genius. Once you see his paintings, you won’t regret it,” the old painter quickly added.

Genius.

The girl smiled helplessly.

”Ah, these people,” she sighed.

It’s a traditional reflection of artistic social networks for teachers to recommend apprentices or fathers to recommend sons to well-known collectors.

Anna had seen much of this.

Truth be told.

She understood Mr. Gu Tongxiang’s emotions very well.

The pity of parents everywhere; for a painter from a small place, having the chance to make connections is an opportunity they seize eagerly.

Not just Gu Tongxiang.

Even those grand painters who shine in exhibitions and auctions often cannot help but use a flattering tone when asking members of the Ilyena family to appreciate the works of their favored nephews or nieces.

To make money, it’s nothing shameful.

Especially during the time when Oil Painting Magazine was under the control of the Ilyena family.

If you get the right eye, you might save yourself years of detours.

But of course, Anna could imagine what the artistic accomplishments of an eighteen-year-old so-called ”genius” might be like.

Truly excellent young artists are as rare as Arab thoroughbreds with not a single natural dull hair.

The majority of so-called geniuses, as people claim, are merely painted in pure color with paintbrushes.

Even Anna herself is just one of those with rather mediocre talent.

Deep down, she both respected and envied all geniuses.

The precondition is, he must be a real genius.

”Is he a real genius or just a genius in your heart? Forget it. At this age, artists might find practicing basic skills more important than networking or participating in exhibitions.”

Anna had already typed this line in the chat box.

In the eyes of outsiders, especially painters like Van Doorn, Miss Elina was actually quite challenging to deal with.

Or to be more blunt—beneath Anna’s beautiful exterior is a truly sharp tongue.

Personal cultivation is one thing, art criticism is another.

The more formal way to refer to art critics should be as art critics; it’s a profession inherently critical of people, known for being harsh and severe.

For Oil Painting editors, criticizing people is more frequent than praising them.

Especially with the Ilyena family’s background, there are more things to take note of.

Even if she was merely following social etiquette, giving a cursory compliment like ”This painting is not bad,” or ”Perhaps there’s some talent here.”

Those painters driven mad by the desire to be famous truly can hype themselves up to the extent of publicly proclaiming that ”Talent is highly recognized by the Ilyena family,” or ”The next rising star after master sculptor Paul Klee favored by the Ilyena family.”

And if she gave them some creative suggestions.

Then, before you knew it, that person might turn out to be considered her disciple, or the painting as ”guided by the Ilyena family.”

They’ll then participate in exhibitions honorably under that name.

Don’t ever believe these things won’t happen. Every industry has dirty secrets; all these stem from the experiences and lessons left behind by the elders who operated Oil Painting Magazine for over a century.

These situations are like dog poop on the sole of a shoe, truly disgusting.

The celebrity effect in the art industry may be even more pronounced than in the entertainment industry.

Legend has it.

Larry Gagosian talked with some newcomer painter for five minutes at a charity gala in New York, and as a result, the price of that painter’s work immediately increased by five hundred dollars.

This artistic harshness was also the protective coloration Elina developed for herself in social interactions.

Anna liking Gu Tongxiang’s style doesn’t mean the girl has any free time to look at Gu Tongxiang’s grandson’s paintings.

But after the words had been typed out.

She suddenly remembered that she had already broken with the management of Oil Painting Magazine, reducing the likelihood of opportunistic exploitation significantly.

And the person on the other side of the chat might truly be a kind elder with heartfelt affection for his grandson.

”After all, just a small-town painter from a remote area.”

Anna pursed her thin lips.

Connections are truly scarce for them; the world’s artistic trends barely reach such unnoticed corners.

Isn’t Lady Detective Cat just such an elder sister living in Africa?

Behind her pitiful ten dollars illustrations online, who knows if she ever sent her art to some art critics, only for the unremarkable sender on the package to be thrown into the trash without even a glance?

Whether Oil Painting Magazine, or the offices of major galleries, receive hundreds or thousands of similar unsolicited disks and artwork packages every year.

Behind every item is a heart hoping to be discovered by a discerning talent.

The cruel reality is that more than half of the disks were never played, over seventy percent of the packages never opened, directly tossed into the dumpster.

Thinking about this part.

Miss Elina’s heart softened a bit.

Anna stared at the remark of [Gu Tongxiang (Yangon, Ma Shi Gallery)] in the chat box for a full ten seconds, finally deleting the words she had originally typed.

Changed it to—”Participating in an exhibition, huh? Alright, once his exhibition piece is ready, you can send it to me; I’m willing to offer some creative suggestions.”

”Hope I’m not helping the wrong person.”

Miss Elina held August’s big ear, slowly saying.

The Springer Spaniel stared at its owner’s phone, responding with a confused ”Woof, woof.”

...

New Zealand and Myanmar are five time zones apart.

When the Zoom call ended, it was already deep into the night in New Zealand, but in Yangon, it was just the dusky evening.

Gu Weijing ended the call.

He pondered in front of his computer for a few minutes, then sent Uncle Ah Lai a message, took down the coat hanging on the wall, and prepared to go out.

The original plan was for Gu Weijing to complete this illustration task at home like with The Little Prince’s manuscript.

But now he slightly changed his mind, having a better inspiration.