2020-08-08 - Patrons of the Arts

It's a peaceful afternoon at the famous art gallery. Students have left but, for now, there is the faint smell of wet paint in the area. In a far off left side of the room are easels holding canvases portraying a variety of scenes and abstract people. Fortunately for Hera, the paints are all put up which shows she won't have an issue cleaning up 'colorful' stuff later. In the center of the main room is a rather long counter sporting a warm coffee pot and some styrofoam cups that easily offer a warm cup of Joe for anyone interested. But, what's more interesting is on the far right side of the room is Hera kneeling next to her canine companion. Hans, the dutiful dog, doesn't seem to be having a good time. His alpha has a rather large brush and she works on stroking his shiney coat which, of course, leaves dog hair everywhere. To appear even more messy, her black T shirt hosts a variety of golden strands, showing that she should groom him more often. "I need to find you a spa." she says, "Somehow, I question if I'm cut out for this." The dog just stands there with a sad and pitiful 'poor me' look in his eyes. But he's a good doggie.

It is hot out. This is a flaw in the world, particularly for that portion of the world inclined to wear a three-piece suit at the drop of the hat even he doesn't ever wear given it's the 21st century these days. Nonetheless, when Vyv walks in, that's still what he's wearing: a three-piece suit in a heathered cornflower blue linen, with a pink gingham shirt and a pink-polkadotted cobalt blue silk tie. In the breast pocket is a neatly folded square of white cotton with pink edging, and on some movements of his arms, one might spot silk-knot cufflinks, also cobalt blue. It's all perfectly fitted, and perfectly expensive-looking, from the slightly tousled haircut down to the brown leather brogues, and as he steps in he looks around the place critically, as though perhaps expecting it to justify itself to him.

Dog grooming does not qualify as the sort of thing he expected. Also, that's a lot of golden hair floating around. He pauses a few steps in, watching. "As performance art goes, I expect an unusually appreciative audience, though I can't say any particular message is getting through. Aside from perhaps 'remember to buy a lint roller'." The voice and very proper British accent could come out of any number of films. Mostly American ones. He's probably the villain.

While it may be hot out, Hera may remember times when the weather was harder to deal with. Either way, her poor overgrown puppy is getting his 'hair done' which leaves Hera to not look as professional as she should. A home is a home though, but Hans would rather be guarding it instead of being subjected to such treatment. The hopeful look turns to Vyv though and the 'head of security' is almost ready to whine and whimper, but his alpha has trained him to be professional. He just stares at the newcomer with a clear 'help me' look on his face.

Hera snaps out of her trance though, obviously since brushing her dog has caused her to be a bit fixated. "Oh hi uhm, hi!" Hera jumps up and stands to attention. As she does Hans does a bit of the opposite and sits on his hind legs. He's probably done standing at attention for now. "Welcome Sir." she greets formally and she pauses to take in Vyv's attire and appearance. It's been a while since someone came in wearing such a business suit with such flair, "I don't think there's much performing arts for today but, the impossible art of keeping my dog's hair in order." She tries to dust herself off and, hopefully, none of the hairs get anywhere near the gentleman. Ah, the joys of being a pet parent.

Vyv meets the dog's hopeful look, level for a moment and then quirking a brow. Alas, he is not the saviour of suffering pups, or at least, not directly; still, his arrival does interrupt the grooming, so perhaps whatever canine committee gives out the awards can take that into consideration.

"Good afternoon," he replies once Hera's standing, one corner of his mouth curling up just perceptibly with amusement at the momentary flurry. "I suppose you could declare it a sort of statement on impermanence. Or the unnatural effort of natural beauty. Or the impermanence of natural beauty, in a pinch." He does not seem inclined to get any nearer the flying fur, even if the odds that he doesn't actually already own a lint roller or similar are rather low. It probably isn't at hand, though.

"Vyvyan Vydal," he says, and might offer a hand were they in closer proximity, but... that is an awful lot of dog hair. "Vyv, most often. How do you do. I run the Patisserie," he gestures vaguely in the appropriate direction; it's not that far off, both being downtown. "This is your gallery?"

Hera figures that now would be a good time to try to clean up. He is dressed way too nicely to be covered in any lint, dirt, or let alone fur. She knows where to find some cloths though and she goes to wipe her hands off and puts the towel neatly aside. She can conduct herself in a more professional manner and she walks over and stands up straight. Extending her hand, she offers a more formal introduction and says, "Mr. Vydal." she says pleasantly, "It is a pleasure to meet you. I might have heard your name before but since this is such a lovely small town, I wouldn't be surprised. It is a pleasure to meet the owner of the Patisserie though. I've been there a few times. It's truly a lovely place."

It's got half his name, too, so she's at least seen that part! Granted, people often aren't quite sure what to do with that 'Y'. Turns out it's 'treat it exactly as if it were an I'. Once Hera's de-furred as much as is likely to be possible with her current tools, the hand is accepted, the shake firm enough to qualify as businesslike without edging anywhere near aggression. After all, he needs his hands in good condition for his art!

"Thank you," he says, "and I'm pleased you've enjoyed it." A glance around, and he adds, "This is lovely space as well. Unusual colouring choice for the walls; what led you to that over a more standard white?" He tilts his head slightly as he studies the way first one and then another of the closer works show against the panels. "And I had wondered: do you do shows for local artists?"

Hera has been in many situations and circumstances, and business circumstances are typical for her. With little to no dog hair, the handshake is well accepted. She can't help but showcase a bright smile as he compliments her home. "Thank you. I try to go with nice, but unique colors. Not that unique but something striking, but at the same time subdued. White is always a good medium but it's what you add to the base that can really cause images and emotions and visions to be brought to life. As far as doing shows for local artists, that's another one of my passions." She make sure her hand to returned to her side as she continues one, "I love featuring the art from other contributors. There's so much we can learn from one another and such much we can contribute to the world. We just need a place where artists can be safe to express their creations, of almost all types." Then a polite pause as she questions, "Any particular reason why you ask?"

"Is it," Vyv replies, and though phrased as a question, it doesn't go up at the end at the least. The tone's pleased, though. And as to her final question, "Yes." For just a breath it seems as though he might leave it at that single, singularly unhelpful if accurate word. "There's an artist I feel should have the opportunity of a show, so I thought I'd look into the options for arranging one. How do you decide? Is it a matter of seeing a portfolio and inviting artists whose work you like, or do you rent portions for a period of time, or some other process?"

Hera continues to listen with interest even if his first response gets a bit of a unique, but brief, glance. She can still recognize a pleased tone though and she continues to smile in response to it. "Well, I love to meet with fellow artists, both new to the area and native to the town, if it would be appropriate to phrase 'native' as such." Anyone who has spent a fair amount of time here knows she's not a townie. "Generally I like for the artists to bring a portfolio of some type by. It can be informal or formal, then I go from there. I do rent portions for a period of time but before renting anything, I like to see a sample of the work up front. There's not a strict process but I do enjoy making connections with creative types. Are you at liberty to say who this artist might be?"

"I was thinking," Vyv says, tilting his head slightly, "it might be a surprise." A tiny pause, and he clarifies, "For him. Not the question of who he is. His name is Grant Baxter; he's a local. And he works in various media. I don't have a proper portfolio handy, I'm afraid. I could show you photos of some of his work, though a fair bit of what I have in my phone is... location specific. Still. I presume if you've interest, you'd likely be working out the details of what and where and precisely when between you in any case, yes?" His artistic medium does not generally take the same manner of display, leaving most of his knowledge of the behind-the-scenes matters from being an attendee and possibly acquaintance with other fine artists.

Hera watches the gentleman and nods to his statement, "A surprise can be a good thing." At least in such cases, she knows this is true. There are other situations where surprises are unpleasant but such unpleasantries are things she would never advertise, more or less create. She does heed the name though and says, "Ah, he sounds a bit, familiar? Though I do not think I have ever formally met him. If you do not mind sharing the photos you have, I do have time to view them." Her interest grows but she waits for Vyv to enlighten her. Still, she enquires, "Performing arts? I still know a few who play music I would love to hear and it wasn't too long ago a few fairytales melted my heart or, does he work with paint? If his speciality is pottery I'm surprised I haven't met him before."

A small smile greets the implied agreement that a surprise is potentially doable, and a slight inclination of the head, as well. "The Baxters are one of the two founding families of the town, so even if you haven't met him, chances are you've heard at least the surname at some point. It just doesn't quite have the Addington cachet." Faint amusement in that remark, and he slips a hand into his jacket to withdraw a sleek, leather-jacketed phone. Flipping the cover open and to the back, he strokes and taps the screen a few times, then offers the device over.

The first image there is a painting, set in a floating frame against a white wall; after it come a few examples of street art, mostly in chalk but some seemingly in paint, including some that are indeed quite location specific, making use of what was already part of the world. There's also what might be considered found-object-based sculpture, and one shot of a series of skateboard decks painted to become works of surreal art themselves, more than simply tools. The photos aren't professional, more likely the artist's own recording of mainly likely- and often definitely-ephemeral pieces. "Paint, chalk, pastel, found objects, largely."

"Fortunately all of my dealings with the Addingtons have gone well. In the back of my mind if things didn't, I doubt my business would be successful." Hera is that unique combination of loving art and loving accounting and getting along with the influential members of the community is important. But when he offers the cellphone she reaches forward to take it carefully. While just a device, it's an important one.

Then she reviews the art and her eyes immediately go wide. Chalk is a medium that she's very familiar with and for a moment she has to gulp to cast aside a few forlorn memories. Looking at the images she is immediately transfixed, as if it's impossible to pull away from them but finally she takes a deep breath to say, "Street art."

Those two words have a much deeper meaning for her than most but she slowly starts to snap herself out of her daze. It takes a few more seconds and it looks like her eyes may well water up for being amazed at the medium. "It's fantastic." she finally starts to talk about it a bit more. "Really, fantastic. I've seen all I need to see but I would love to meet him formally. You just name a time and I would love to celebrate his creations."

Vyv seems about to say something, then to reconsider it. Instead there's a, "Mn," and a breath later, "Rarely a bad idea. I don't think I've met one who didn't have strong opinions. Some better than others."

He watches her, first the phone-claiming -- with hints of the look most people seem to get on handing theirs over, keeping track and making sure it's all right -- and then the review of the images, which is... intriguing. He knows Bax is talented, or he wouldn't be doing this, but those reactions look like more than just appreciation of the pieces themselves. "Street art," he confirms quietly in her pause, "Mainly."

The verdict isn't exactly a shock, by that point, but it's still gratifying, and draws a small smile. "He is quite good, isn't he." Consensus rather than question, just a touch of something proprietary in it. "I'm pleased you agree. And," he lifts his hand a bit, turning it over to have the phone returned, "I can certainly arrange that. Perhaps... mn. Could you do the afternoon or early evening of the 21st?" When he has the phone back, there are a few taps -- the quick check of an agenda, the equally quick firing off of a text. "Have you been a street artist yourself?"

Hera watches the phone with longing, as if she's quite attracted to the art for many reasons. There are some mediums that reach out to her more than others, and this type is not easily forgotten.

blink blink

It's time to step back into reality. Art is real, and what often inspires it is real, but such visions can lead to a nirvana or a nightmare. "I was." she says, her voice somewhat distant. Then, there's a few seconds where there's an erie pause that gives way to a smile. The smile is sincere but it does show a bit of paradox as if her past mood might reveal more than she wishes. "But, my love is helping artists find their way." In many of her social circles, she finds herself the older person who winds up being a motherly figure before she realizes it. "And, wow. I'd love to showcase this well, to the world. It's so rich in talent and vision. I think he can reveal true hope. He has the talent to do so, and also the skill. Yes, his work is truly amazing. It seems that Gray Harbor has quite the host of secrets. I'd even be amazed if Austin could produce such talent."

It doesn't generally take long acquaintance to get the impression that Vyv is not particularly... demonstrative, really. The smile this all gets is fairly small by most measures, but it, too, looks sincere; while the lips stay closed, there's a definitely brightening of and creasing at the corners of the eyes. "Good. Yes..." a glance down toward the phone, then lifting back toward her, "hope is a good word, I think. He sees the world differently than most." There's what might be a touch of fondness in the otherwise fairly casual tone, there. "I suppose that's true of most artists, really. Differently from each other as well."

He slides the phone away into his jacket again. "Right. Then we have a plan. Thank you." A brief pause, considering her again. "I'd quite like to see him find his way. So, about this time two weeks from now, then? And perhaps you can discuss your joint interests in genre a bit, as well."

Hera continues to be more and more in touch with what is 'real' now and she gently nods her head in response. "There are many good words, but good words often have a hard time defining all types of creativity." she smiles and confirms, "Yes, a good agenda too I think. Most of the time my door is always open but I will be expecting him in a few weeks. I'll make sure to plan for it too so there's not so much of a hair issue." Poor Hans would give her a whine in her direction if he really understood what she said. "I do look forward to it. If other arrangements need to be made, just let me know. I'm certainly not going anywhere."

Vyv watches that process with some interest, but for now, doesn't pry. There's a sense he might be filing it away for future investigation, however. For now, there's a near-silent exhalation that might one day grow up to be a full-fledged laugh, if it works very hard. "I doubt he'd mind the fur. But I do appreciate it." In case there were any doubt whether he intended to be there for this discussion as well. He inclines his head to her, "I'm sure you've still a good deal of brushing to do, so for now I'll get out of your -- and your dog's -- hair. And thank you again. This ought to work nicely, I'd say."

Hera tries to be subtle as she looks over toward the door to make sure her tabby, four legged companion doesn't bolt for it. While it's not something she will admit, she's not in the mood to go chasing her cat if he decides to follow Vyv out. Hans stays somewhat close to her though and watches his alpha as he offers the businessman a wave. "Well, there's plenty of hair to go around. Fortunately, I'm a bit of a neat freak. It was nice meeting you. Please come by anytime." She seems sincere when she says that and she doesn't need to emphasize again how impressed she is with Grant's work.