Chapter 643 - 295: Legendary Level and Jean Arnou’s Gift (2)

The emerald green of the lake merges with the azure sky at the horizon, and the sky is tinged with some moisture.

Even the clouds are engulfed by the mist, carrying a deep glow of the sunset.

"That’s it, really wonderful."

The professor nodded proudly.

The old man beside him picked up the cat, teasing its chin with his finger as he haughtily shook his head: "That Detective Cat is very talented and spirited, but when it comes to mastering techniques, it’s us, the old professors, who have an edge, right!"

Professor Boggs accidentally smudged some paint from his fingers onto the cat’s snowy white fur.

If he had been holding Ah Wang, it might have already bitten him.

However, Scottish Fold cats, a breed specifically cultivated as pets in the late 20th century, are much more gentle and adorable than the native cats that catch mice.

The little white cat opened its eyes in confusion, not knowing what kind of madness this weird old man suddenly got into.

"Little cat, oh little cat, you don’t know how much I look forward to seeing her work, I believe I will win."

Professor Boggs hugged the cat and spun around in the room.

He is indeed qualified to be conceited.

Because if Gu Weijing were to use a Calligraphy and Painting Identification Skill on the piece the old professor had just finished,

he would see such a prompt appear on the system panel—

[Title of the Work: "Dusk at Jade Lake"]

[Painting Technique: Painting Knife Painting·Legendary Level]

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"The dock in Queenstown has the only running old-fashioned coal-fired steamer in all of New Zealand, very local in character, and the billowing coal smoke that puffs out often gives tourists the illusion of stepping into the Victorian Era. The local environmental groups have been protesting that its furnace pollutes the air quality of the entire Jade Lake, causing the residents in the area to inhale ’the cruise company’s secondhand smoke’, and it may not operate for many more years. Do you want to experience it?"

The décor on the dining table of the illustration master is not essentially different from that of an ordinary family’s dining room.

A television hanging on the wall quietly broadcasts the local evening news, and Thai food ordered from a nearby restaurant is spread out on the table.

During dinner, even though both artists had come to treat his son,

Jean Arnou the father remained well-mannered and not impatient, casually asking his guests,

"Hmm hmm."

Lady Anya buried herself in a plate of Thai-style fried tofu in front of her, thought for a moment, and raised her hand: "I saw there are horses at the ranch, can I ride one for fun?"

"Of course you can, feel free, I will arrange for an experienced cowboy to accompany you."

Jean Arnou had just casually picked a topic, but he had more significant matters to discuss.

"By the way, I should mention, I have an old acquaintance who is the European art director for the Sydney Art Expo. This September at Carriageworks Art Community, I have an independent large illustration unit, but I actually don’t need so many booths, about three or four will be vacant. Lady Anya, if you don’t mind doing me a favor, could you bring me some interesting works?"

Sydney Art Expo?

Anya nearly choked on her tofu.

Of course, this isn’t a favor, but rather a precious gift.

The female artist had never participated in the Oceania Art Expo, but in any serious large-scale expo, the concept of vacant booths doesn’t really exist.

Every position for exhibiting work is highly coveted.

Many painters struggle their whole lives and never earn a position to display even a small painting at an art expo.

Jean Arnou casually promised a full three or four booths.

Art resources worth a fortune were easily bestowed as a "favor" to Anya.

Such is the authority of top-tier art magnates.

"I am very honored."

Lady Anya put down her fork, her tone filled with delight.

She knew before coming that,

true art moguls rarely owe favors to juniors.

If you are willing to help, the gain will surely exceed the effort.

If it’s near the core area of the art expo, just the booth fee would be worth more than the price of her "Love of Pets" painting, and these are usually VIP booths reserved by grand galleries.

It wouldn’t be available for renting even with money.

And how could the booths allocated to an artist of Jean Arnou’s caliber not be central?

"Tony’s situation, I’m sorry I couldn’t do better." She shook her head with regret.

Jean Arnou already knew she was powerless regarding Tony’s condition, but unexpectedly still offered such a precious reply gift.

The illustrator waved his hand, indicating it didn’t matter.

"May I participate in the expo in the name of Zaohe Space Art Gallery? I have signed several very interesting artists who need opportunities to showcase themselves."

"I just thought I’d mention it, if it’s not suitable, then forget it."

Anya asked tentatively, her tone nervous.

Regardless of whether it’s three or four booths, that’s enough to display quite a few paintings.

If it transforms into a special exhibition of Zaohe Space Art Gallery, opening up its reputation among the wealthy in Oceania, the long-term benefits and gains are immeasurable.

The average selling price of single works at large-scale art expos may easily exceed one hundred thousand US dollars.

A successful art expo marketing may, in the long run, bring in millions in revenue and directly establish an entire gallery.

"I see."

Jean Arnou pondered slightly.

"Hmm... I need to make a few calls to the organizers to coordinate, I can’t guarantee it, but I think it shouldn’t be a big problem."

The old gentleman nodded, looking at his assistant: "When there’s a result, I’ll have him contact you, is that okay?"

"No problem, I’ll handle the coordination. You go ride horses on the ranch, I can also teach you." The assistant eagerly volunteered.

Jean Arnou turned his head to Professor Boggs: "And what about you?"

"No, never mind. The coal smoke smells suffocating, the manure stinks, just like this box of neither sour nor sweet Thai food, I don’t like any of it."

Professor Boggs shook his head, oblivious to the exchange of interests just now.

The atmosphere at the dining table turned oddly silent for a moment.

The assistant and Dr. Jin, who had come today to conduct a psychological assessment for Tony and stayed for dinner, exchanged helpless smiles.

In many people’s minds, artists are often a group with low emotional intelligence, who can’t grasp the nuances of conversation.

In fact, this is the most typical stereotype about the art industry.

The emotional intelligence of artists can vary greatly, with eccentrics like Van Gogh or Gauguin existing, but smooth individuals adept at dealing with collectors and media are more prevalent.

The latter often find it easier to achieve success; the art workplace is still a workplace, and in a workplace, social etiquette matters.

The former, well, act like a filter.

Ill-tempered, peculiar painters generally don’t survive long in the art market, and gallery owners aren’t masochists and don’t want to sign artists who act like tyrants.

However, if they gain fame, their odd temperament becomes part of their persona, embraced by the market, and even becomes part of their personal "brand."

No one cares if Picasso was a scoundrel or a misogynist.

Having the identity of a master of painting knife painting along with the title of lifelong professor gives Boggs the privilege of ignoring social niceties in most social settings.

"Well, we can order Kung Pao Chicken tomorrow, or use the beef from the ranch to grill ourselves."

Jean Arnou smiled, unoffended.

He also carries some pride in his character, but among great artists, he is considered one of the more patient types.

After all, having been tempered by an autistic son for forty years, even the most explosive-tempered person must develop some patience.

"Mr. Boggs, I greatly appreciate your visit here, but if I may be direct, the real reason for your special visit... if I’m not mistaken, it should be because of Lady Detective Cat, correct?"

Jean Arnou pondered for a moment, then decided to speak frankly.

He is a master illustrator and has many friends in the serious art world, but there is always a distinction in fields; if Boggs has some interest needs, Jean Arnou, of course, can offer convenience.

However, he has a premonition.

Professor Boggs is different from the female artist, he is not here for this purpose.