In the artist eye

[gwenchan]

Personaggi: Aph Inghilterra, Aph Francia
Prompt: Tramandato per l'eternità
Rating: General 

Additional tags: Alternate Universe_Humans, Alternate Universe_Arts

Note. "Tramandato per l'eternità" perché l'arte è tradizionalmente considerata eterna e un ritratto può anche essere un modo per fissare una persona per sempre in quel preciso istante di tempo.


 "What a stupid idea."

This was what Arthur Kirkland thought - and said -, standing in uncertain balance on top of a ladder, when the man who was currently employing him proposed to portray him.

 

"Just snap a photo," he remarked, finishing twisting a lightbulb in place.

 

"Photos are soulless," came the reply and really Arthur told himself he should have expected a similar comment for someone like Francis Bonnefoy. 

 

Actually, he knew little about the man, except that he was an artist, enough established to have a gallery to represent him, that this wasn't his first solo exhibition and that, as the stereotype goes, he was absolutely hard to please.

 

He wasn't particularly dramatic in reality, though he yet had his primadonna moments, but overall Arthur had worked for worse people. What he really found irritating in Francis' behavior, apart from him being way too touchy than propriety would have allowed and excessively arrogant, was the total lack of substance and consistency in his requests. 

 

Because Arthur wasn't being paid enough to "feel" the lights and understand by some kind of gut feeling what was the right voltage. Especially if Francis' feeling changed everyday according to his mood, the weather and whatever genius idea he had the night before. 

 

"Besides, why are you interested?"

"Can't I immortalize something I find interesting?"

 

"Yes. That's exactly why photos exist. Then, I have no time," he continued, jumping down of the ladder to move it some meters over where a post-it was indicating the place the pictures would be hung and rummaging in his toolbox for some warmer lights to test. 

Like, who had the time to pose for hours? Surely not him. Especially when Francis's was only one of the exhibitions for which he had to set up the lightning. 

 

"How about on Saturdays," Francis insisted. It makes Arthur huffs something that sounded almost like a joyless laugh. "Saturdays I prefer to stay away from work, thank you very much."

 

And he said it with a tone so final Francis didn't insist. He even left the room, leaving Arthur less with any guilty feeling of having offended him and more with the gratitude and relief of finally being alone. Not even the time to taste it, Francis was back, carrying a sketch book and a pencil.

 

"Don't mind me," he said, beginning to scribble. Easier said than done. If already Arthur didn't like generally having any eyes in him while he was working, he liked it even less when another's attention was fixated on his person deliberately. It made things distracting. 

 

It was also quite haunting, as he realized after the first hour of having Francis quietly but insistently following him around again with his sketch book. 

 

"Do you mind?" he snapped, after the sudden request to continue pretending to install a lightbulb, even after it had been properly secured, had made him almost fall from the ladder by surprise. 

"Sorry," Francis replied, with the tone of a person who clearly wasn't sorry, "But that last pose was so lively."

"You have a strange concept of lively," Arthur said, as his arm began feeling the first cramps. He set it down, flexing his fingers to restore some circulation. Overall, Francis had a strange concept of art. Strange enough to be understood only the the members of his clique, some academics and by absolutely no one else. Which could as well be his objective.

 

In other words, contemporary art at its finest. 

 

That much, Arthur could understand. He wasn't completely ignorant about the topic. When one worked for some years with artists, it was normal to start picking up some quirks, educating the eye to if not appreciate, at least evaluate the art. 

 

"In any case, how does it look?" he changed subject, turning on the light, careful for it to not be too bright, and turning towards Francis.

"It's turning out pretty good," the other said. He had still his head immersed into the sketchbook and when he finally raised it, it was only to, apparently, get the right hold on Arthur's face or some other part of his body. 

"I meant the lights," Arthur precised through gritted teeth, with the voice of a very tired man who's thinking very hard about his compensation. Because, even if Francis didn't pay him enough for his shaneningans, he stil paid him pretty well. Enough to bite his tongue. "How do they look?"

 

"They could be a bit warmer."

 

Not without sighing, Arthur adjusted the lights. "Now?"

 

"They feel so cold."

"Because they need to be cold."

 

Art overall didn't like to be too illuminated and mostly of the new, low-consume, environment-friendly lights that had become the standard were cold. On the other hand, it was also true Francis' art needed some sort of soft, embracing light to really get the whole deal. Arthur raised his hands, palms up in resignation.

 

"Fine. I'll try and find the lights you need. But it may take some time."

 

Which meant anything from a week to a month, which was exactly the period left before the schedule opening of Francis' show. 

 

"What if they don't arrive in time?" Francis asked, now a bit more concerned. He may not be very keen when it came to technicalities, but he spoke the language of art and knew precisely what message he wanted to convey. Not being able to do so, would signify an half-done show, like a half-baked cake. 

"Then you'll have to get used to this," Arthur answered, closing his toolbox as punctuation. He made to gather his other belongings before leaving. Maybe, if he moved quickly enough, he could even avoid the rush hour in the subway. He just needed to retrieve coat and scarf and he would be ready to go.

"Your forgetting this," Francis called him back as Arthur was already on the door. He stretched a hand toward him, holding one paper. It was the sketch Francis has been working on for the last hour. A series of sketch, actually, all of Arthur in different poses. They were nice. Well, surely they were better words to describe them than nice. Striking, perhaps. The trait was a bit messy and yet sure and they were lively. Plus he had to admit Francis had a thing for expression, although he didn't had to accentuate so much his eyebrows. They weren't that big. 

But the sketch was beautiful. 

 

"Not bad right? Especially given the material."

 

And then Francis had to speak and Arthur's awe turned into irritation. He breathed through his teeth. Least thing he wanted now was to get on the bad side of an employer.

 

"Then why you wanted to portrait me?" he inquired. Francis smiled."Because art likes the strange and the abnormal," he explained, in a way that wasn't clear if it was a compliment or an insult. For Arthur it was definetely the second one, but again he let it slide 

The sketch was really pretty. It made Arthur wonder what it could be if done with the proper times and tools. Then he remembered how strange Francis' current art was.

 

"By portrait would you mean a realistic one or something like what you do?" 

"Is that an interest?"

"First answer my question."

 

Francis shrugged. "It would be what it needs to be."

 

Which damn it if it wasn't making Arthur curious. Also, being portraited would meant having a free picture. Because it was legit to assume the portrait would be his once Francis had finished it. And, though the art world was fleeting, having an art of someone who was already quite affirmed sounded like a sound future plan.

 

Of course, this was still all in Arthur's mind. "And the portrait will be mine in the end, right?"

"Economically, of course. Morally, it would still be mine. You know, exhibitions, copies ..."

 "Yes. I know the deal," Arthur cut him off. He carefully folded the sketch to put it in his coat to protect it from the drizzle going on outside. 

 

"So, is that a yes?" Francis asked for a confirmation. Arthur adjusted the collar of his coat and the knot of his scarf."As long as it doesn't take too long," he said.

"Art needs time."

"As long as it doesn't take too much," Arthur insisted. 

"So, next Saturday?"

 

Truth be told it sounded more like setting for a date than for a portrait session. But that was to be expected from Francis. Arthur nodded.

 

"Next Saturday."