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HONG
KHAC KIM MAI
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Unlimited Prosperity
1-
“What a masterpiece!”
Cried out a voice.
Startled, Nam turned around. In front of him was a young
woman with a beautiful, radiant smile.
Nam had seen her a few times walking in the park where he used to come
every weekend to paint.
Putting his freshly
cleaned brushes in a bag, Nam said, “Thank you for the compliment.”
The woman hesitated but
the words slipped out of her mouth, “You really are a talented painter!”
Nam was lost for a second; he was not sure how to answer her. Yet the
woman continued to talk passionately, “There is absolutely no difference
between the scenery Mother Nature provides, and the one in your painting.
Wow! The leaves on those branches, green-yellow and orange-red, those colors
of late autumn, you have brought them so skillfully into the canvas. Look at
how similar those marvelous slabs of stone bathing in calm water are to pools
of gleaming sunshine! And at how lively that little rippling stream is
curving away …”
Nam smiled and interrupted
her, “Thank you again. The lively state you just mentioned is not really
true. Look, anytime a breeze wafted, the leaves on those branches rustled,
but the ones on my canvas are motionless. Therefore, a painting that draws
upon any real object or scenery, no matter how much people like it, is just a duplication. The painting becomes something similar to
life, but not real-as-life.”
With her fingers
intertwined in front of her chest, she nodded. “I agree. The painting, similar to life, is
indeed a product of studied skills. It demands a remarkable command of
techniques, of colors blending in good harmony, and of structure well
disposed. Also, for the painting to be soulful, lighting placed in correct
places is very important. To attain all these is not easy... But for painting to be real-as-life! How
can we realize something like that? Is it too visionary? How does one make
the leaves in the canvas tremble each time there is a breeze? You must be
joking, aren’t you?”
“As a matter of fact, the question of
whether it is too visionary or not, is up to the person’s ability to reason
and to perceive. However, I think there is nothing that man cannot do. The
issue is how to reach that goal. Piles of untangled threads are ahead of me,
and I keep struggling in vain to locate the starting point.”
“Ah, you are so hard on
yourself. You are too ambitious. I have the impression that you are not happy
with your recent artwork?”
As if she had touched his
deep secret, Nam sighed. “Yes, you’re right. For a long time now, I have not
been satisfied with anything I have done…Every time I finished a piece of
artwork, I often feel irritated…”
“Why so?”
Suddenly, Nam moaned,
“Why? Why! God, I have asked myself this question a thousand times, and I
never can answer it…”
Smiling, the woman lowered
her voice, “I think your paintings will be appreciated by many people,
because the colors you put together are so well coordinated and vivid.”
On hearing these words,
Nam burst out laughing. He said that he wanted to give her the painting he
had freshly finished.
The woman’s eyes widened
in surprise, and she gasped, “How can it be? I can’t accept such a gift…”
With a hearty voice, Nam
said, “You are not the first person to whom I have given away a painting. If
you like it, please take it. Since you regard my painting as a worthy object,
I am very touched.”
2-
The sun disappeared long
ago, but Nam still stayed in the park, sitting on a bench. At this moment of
the day, there were a very few people around. The hush of the night and the
cool air of autumn made Nam feel in good spirits. During weekdays, to earn a
humble living, Nam had to work part-time for a company in town. His spare
time and weekends were the moments when he could devote himself totally to
his passion of painting.
Nam leaned back and kept
his eyes tightly closed. A great number of colors, one after another, came
from nowhere and danced in his mind. Amid them appeared the amiable smile of
the lady he met earlier…Very clearly, her kind words rang in his ears, and
the image of her holding the painting gripped his heart. This was neither the
first time he heard people complimenting him, nor the first time he had given
away his paintings to strangers because of their appreciation. If others
happened to dislike his artwork, or if they did not want to take them home,
he would throw the works away, as he had done so many times in the last few
years.
He sighed. Why should he
keep artwork that did not completely satisfy him?
Nam tiredly put all his
tools into the trunk of his old car, and got ready to go home. From far away,
a small car rolled toward him. Its headlights glared and irritated Nam’s
eyes. The car slowed down and the pretty face of the woman he met earlier
stuck out of the window.
“Oh! Mister Artist, I
forgot to ask for your name!” she cheerfully said.
Nam politely smiled. He
took a business card from his wallet and gave it to her. The young woman held
the small card in her hand. She glanced at the lines printed on it, and she
said earnestly, “I hope that you will be satisfied with your new painting
projects.”
“My painting projects?”
“Yeah! Your upcoming
creations,” she answered.
Creations! Creations! In a flash, these words somehow seemed to
reverberate in the dark, immense sky. They carried an inscrutable power; they
thundered in Nam’s mind so loudly that he felt dizzy. His ears felt full to
bursting. His vision blurred. He was speechless.
Creativity!
Miraculously, this word
came clearly as a revelation, a key that began the initial opening of his
spirit. Nam felt a tremendous surge of energy flowing within his body. This
compelling force was hard to describe, because he had never experienced
anything like it. Nevertheless, he felt so comfortable, so good, so happy,
and so inspired.
Nam stood up straight. His
eyes were shut tight. He joined his hands in front of his chest for a moment.
He held them up, as if ready to embrace something. He seemed to be waiting to
receive a heavenly response. The energy moved quickly from left to right,
from the bottom up. When it reached the tip of his nose, its heat diminished.
At this moment, Nam perceived an extremely luminous and dazzling ray of
light. This light ray converged between his eyebrows, and hit him in full
force. It was like a headlight that shined into every chamber of his mind. It
was like a torch that illuminated every cell in his cave of knowledge. Nam sunk into the deep
hollow of a dream-like state.
Creativity! Oh
yes, the artist cannot be a ruminant. The artist must not mimic the
reproductive job, as done by merchants. The mission of the artist is to
create. It is he who supposes to strike out the road leading to new horizons.
It is he who makes the Garden of Wonders bloom with new flowers.
Nam discovered that he had
carried this enormous yearning in his heart for a long time. His desire for
satisfaction was floating like an empty bottle on the immense ocean. It kept
floating, floating to nowhere. But today, it had found a place to land. In
Nam, an unexplored field was ready to be cultivated. In him, the promise of
an abundant harvest was at hand.
Was Nam too
optimistic?
In happiness, Nam also
found himself in a state of anxiety. For him, Art was vastly vague, and the
artist’s vision was different from the vision of others. The perceptions and
judgments of mankind were shaped by measurements and patterns. People usually
criticized others based on existing formulas and principles. Many
celebrities, or individuals in authority, granted themselves the right to
evaluate other people’s works; their judgments were sometimes very strict,
sometimes very unfair. Often works of art impregnated with creativity were
rejected, ridiculed, or dismissed during their first moments of life. But the
past had proven that artists were years ahead of many people on the path to
the aesthetic realization. Therefore, the journey of an artist was often
quite lonely, because where would one find a soul with the same vision?
If Nam were not optimistic
or self-confident, perhaps he might find himself stepping in the same place
forever. He would, in chagrin, torment himself each time he finished a
painting and would never be satisfied.
Why did he have to care
about people’s criticisms, and, in so doing, dare not to strive on his own
terms for what he desired most?
Nam was like an artist who
had been in a deep sleep, who had buried his noble duty of creating Art. He
had just been awakened. He stretched himself as if to emancipate his
subconscious. He needed to free himself from everything.
In the darkness of
nightfall in the park, Nam staggered forward drunkenly. He was inebriated
with his dream, a glorious vision that he would make come true…
3 –
Nam stood a long time in
front of a canvas. What subject was he going to draw?
He watched through his
door the living montage of a child playing with water splashed from a
fountain. How beautiful it was! But Nam did not like the idea of copying it
and framing it into the formatted canvas. The photographer, with his digital
camera, could do the job easily in a few seconds.
He recalled the smile of
the lady he met more than three months ago at the park. What a strange smile!
Her lips were crooked. Slightly crooked, just enough to show her charming
teeth. No, no! Nam refused to draw this
image from memory. Though her hair waving in the sunset was very poetic, Nam
did not want to illustrate it. That kind of work was now history.
He imagined the greenish
rice paddies of his fatherland. Soft stalks of rice laid down flat on the
muddy water each time there was a breeze. Country girls marched in cadence
along the embankments and on their shoulders bamboo poles holding a basket at
each end. The boy herder hurried his water buffalo home.
His imagination showed him
the picturesque scenery of banana trees and a graceful bamboo forest; then a
landscape of bushy exotic flowers, trellis of climbing greens next to
thatched cottages of the countryside.
His imagination showed him a picture of a mysterious
pagoda with an old meditating monk seeking enlightenment. Oh yes, the picture
would be perfect with the presence of man, scenery, and spirit. What texture
should I use to detail on the canvas everything accordingly and harmoniously?
What colors should I choose to express the monk in deep thought, looking so
immovable outside, but not so imperturbable inside? And enlightenment itself!
How shall I show the miraculous ascending fog or the aura around the monk, or
his attainment of Nirvana where he wished to ascend?”
No, Nam did not want to put his imagination onto the canvas.
When imagining, the artist usually has to exercise the power of his mind,
envisioning everything ahead of time, as he would wish it. Therefore, he
becomes the master of his plan. The artist concocts that imaginative picture
logically and skillfully in his head, and then translates it into marks on
the canvas. This is not an act of creativity, but more an elaboration and
evolution of thought. It is a representation of an artistic project already
set in the mind. No matter how perfect the formation of that “image” becomes
in reality, it is still related to this individual’s knowledge and
experiences during life. Old ideas are renewed, which is like warming another
bottle of rice wine, and not the creation of a brand new exceptional
beverage.
Realization of an aspiring
project is to bring to life seeds of ideas already germinating in the
subconscious, and to nurture them when time permits.
Creation is to invent
something completely new that no one has ever known, seen, touched, or heard,
including the artist himself.
Nam scratched his head and pounded his chest,
perspiration dotting his forehead. Creativity! God, where can I find the keys
to break out of this vicious cycle and to open the flow of Inspiration?
Nam threw his brush aside
and walked away…
Many months went by and
Nam lived in restlessness and agony because he found no way out of the
labyrinth. He was determined to not repeat the way he painted in the past,
and he was driven to pursue his goal to the end. But the path to a new idea
was so uncertain, since the human capability to liberate the brain was very
limited.…
Nam was always in a state
of doubt. He endeavored to climb to the next step, but his spirit seemed too
foolish and would not cooperate with the cry of his heart.
“Keep seeking and you will find. Keep
knocking and the door will open…” Who had said that?
There were a
million times that Nam did look, only to find nothing. A million knocks! And
doors still closed tight. Faith he had aplenty. Of confidence, a full heart.
But like a circle, everything seemed go back to where it started, he thought
bitterly.
There were so many
afternoons that Nam spent driving to the countryside, parking his car in a
certain desolate area. There, he felt more relaxed and peaceful. Leaving the
car and all anxieties behind, he walked miles and miles straight ahead
without looking around, without a thought in his head. Nam wished to erase
that thing in him called knowledge. He wanted to empty his brain, for it to
be like a blank sheet of paper, and for Nam to begin anew…
4-
Nam stood in front of the
canvas. He held a brush in one hand, a tube of paint in the other. All
preceding accustomed ideas and previous clichés were forgotten. There was
nothing in his head. He had already decided that the job of constructing a
painting was no longer his, but a job for the God of Creativity. Let
Creativity create itself, and invention will be manifested to its best. Nam’s
body, Nam’s hands…they were just tools like the canvas, or the easel, or the
brushes, or the paints. The only difference between them was the nervous
system in his body that monitored his hands, to function in gathering all
necessary materials to structure a painting. This necessary determination was
not under Nam’s control. It arose according to Creativity’s needs. No
subject. No evaluation. No need for concern. His physical body was a robot.
His soul was definitely the artist. In such a position, Nam lifted his hand
and proceeded…
The strokes of color were
applied one after another on the canvas. They blended into each other, and
did not show any particular shape. Once Nam’s hands were tired of the job, he
quit. He stepped back. He burst into sarcastic laughter and shook his head.
Was it a painting? Ha! If it were a painting, then it was done by someone who
knew nothing about the techniques of the visual art, or, even worse, it
looked like a crazy person painted it! Nam felt so disappointed that he threw
his brush and walked away for lunch….
When Nam came back, he stood pensively; trying not to use
reason, he quietly observed the unfinished picture that he left earlier.
Astonishingly, those curious colorful paint strokes blended into each other
magnificently. They did not follow any discipline. They were totally free,
wild. They were cross-marked, childishly… But, please look, they seemed to
change their shapes and composition differently depending where Nam stood.
What a dramatic transformation! The more Nam looked at the freshly painted
canvas, the more he felt ecstatically passionate. It was the passion of a
person who went from discovery to discovery. ..Visions of newly found
imageries led Nam to add his final touch.
He entitled his new
painting, “Diversities”.
That was the first
painting Nam achieved with his break-through process of creativity.
Being freed from ego,
Nam’s body worked independently of his mind during the painting process. The
artist in him had changed miraculously. For each piece, Nam did not exercise
the same technique. In the beginning, Nam used brushes to paint. Later, he
switched to knives. At times his fingertips replaced brushes and knives to
become extraordinary tools. The type of media was also randomly chosen. It
was not necessary to use a such and such material, or a particular brand name
product, or a concoction of a formulated mixture. Creativity, by its nature, possessed its
own color, its own technique, and its own judgment. It bypassed all existing
standards; it did not care about rigid rules made up by life. Creativity, in
action, burst out great unexpected ideas, which erupted with spontaneous and
vivid metamorphosis, from outline to structure. Therefore, it skipped the
conception period, and excelled beyond measure.
When inspiration came, Nam
was unable to control himself. He worked continuously without breaks. There
were days and nights when he stayed awake without fatigue. When hunger
stroked, he ate while watching the painting closely. Through the mystical
colors, his eyes visualized some vague initial imagery. He then pursued these
images to give them form. The painting became amazingly versatile because its
perspective was comprised of many interesting and strange facets… it had an
odd quality, a silent voice, and carried within it music. The artwork transmitted
to its viewers ecstatic vibrations, allowing them to
discover within themselves strong emotions of desire, of unrealized wishes,
of sorrow, and of hope…its characteristics fluctuated fluidly because it
depended upon the viewer’s personality, point of view, and experience. The
viewer’s shifting mood made the artwork become real-as-life, a breathing and living being. The painting was therefore
not only an object of art to please the eyes, but also it hinted notes of
music that formed a melody on your tongue; it could be read, and gave you joy
in each discovery; it could be heard as the voice of your deepest self,
urging you to acknowledge the infinite power of your own imagination.
It can be said that
creativity is a string of beads of newness. Each bead represents newness, and
each one is newer than the last. In this way, it goes on endlessly, as life
continues its course.
5 –
The man who just stepped
in the door introduced himself as an art dealer from New York. He was very
tall with deep green eyes, a receding chin, and very thin lips. He spoke
English with an accent. He was an Irish-American.
The art dealer gazed a
long time at each of Nam’s paintings. At times, he nodded his head, or held
his chin in a pensive mode.
He said that his friends
were talking about Nam with admiration; that was the reason he had come to
visit him, because of curiosity. He mentioned that he was willing to do some
business with Nam. He showed Nam a van loaded with artwork that he recently
bought from many local painters at very reasonable prices, no more than five
hundred dollars each.
Nam did not feel sympathy
for the dealer. However, because of his experience and knowledge of the art
world, Nam was curious to know how the art dealer regarded his works.
The man pointed at a
painting entitled “No Apples.”
In it was a young woman with a dreamy face; her body was partially nude. She
was lifting up her arms, palms facing outwards. Under a sky of green leaves,
her arms were opened wide as in an embrace, reflecting her zest for life. In
her reflected beams of hope. In her reflected passion, and tolerance… The art
dealer questioned the title, he had found nothing related to it in the
content of the artwork.
“Why not?” Nam asked. He
explained, “That woman is Eve. In many people’s mind, Eve was sinful. In this
canvas, I painted her as she was before the apple legend, a time when she was
extremely pure. She represents women of all ages on Earth...Sin is an act of
wrongdoing committed by individuals; then, why did the whole community have
to bear the blame for it?” “No Apples” revealed a cry, a
protest.
The art dealer was
astounded; he rolled his eyes and stood thoughtfully for a moment.
The piece that the dealer
liked the most was the one entitled “Unlimited
Prosperity”. He offered to buy it for two thousand dollars. Nam shook
his head. He increased it a couple thousand dollars more. Nam still said no.
He continued to offer more and more money, and finally stopped at twenty
thousand dollars. Nam kept shaking his head.
The dealer was furious. He
said, “As an unknown painter, how could you ask for more money than that?”
He explained that he had
bought and sold art works for many years in New York. He had a huge list of
buyers. Many of his clients belonged to the high-class society. Some of them
were so wealthy that they did not see the difference between one hundred
thousand to two hundred thousand dollars. They could easily afford to pay
millions of dollars for something that interested them.
He tried to convince Nam
to sell his artwork and not keep them. “Artists are human beings who needed
material things to survive. Art is noble but Art has to serve people. First
of all, it needs to feed the person who creates it before it serves the
public.” He coached Nam: “You need to build a reputation. Sell this artwork
now, and later you will make another one, that’s easy….”
Nam shook his head as
usual. He knew very well that he was not a machine. Each of his artwork was
unique. He had no ability to duplicate his own work. His painting was as priceless
as his own child. Who had the heart to sell his child? It was Nam who was
willing to serve Art and rise with it, and he accepted the fact that Art did
not serve him for his daily bread and butter.
In the dealer’s eyes, this
was nothing new; there was nothing strange in Nam’s attitude. In his
business, he often had conflicts with talented, eccentric artists. Most of
them were very arrogant and thought that their products were unique, second
to none. “Well, that is the common craziness of someone who is capable of
doing extraordinary things, I guess…” the dealer told himself.
He understood
the case so well and knew that he would be patient. Handing to Nam his
business card, the art dealer hoped that Nam would change his mind one day.
Patting Nam’s shoulder, he told him in a friendly voice, “You are
exceptional! I enjoyed your paintings very much, and I really admire you.”
As he walked to the door,
he turned his head and said, “My friend, please always keep in mind that you
should not sell your works too cheaply.
You name the price and people will follow…”
Nam nodded his head with
gratitude.
6 –
The New-Face-and-Space
Gallery was located at Alberta Street, a neighborhood full of not-so-fancy
houses in the northeast area of the city.
A decade ago, decent people did not dare to come here because it was a
place where notorious gangs gathered on a regular basis. When darkness fell,
prostitutes lined up on every corner of the streets to look for customers.
Shootings occurred almost daily, and unsolved crimes were numerous. The
majority of its residents were African-American and new immigrants, because
housing was extremely cheap. Soon many local artists who had recently lost
their spots at a downtown quarter settled themselves in this affordable
northeast neighborhood.
With the presence of so
many artists’ studios, the businesses on Alberta Street became amazingly
prosperous. Buildings with tin roofs, and formerly dirty large warehouses
were renovated nicely. Traces of multicolor graffiti and holes from countless
bullet marks disappeared. On the surface, people saw new layers of paints
with fashionable colors and signs carrying interesting names. Restaurants,
espresso huts, and numerous retail businesses existed side-by-side, up and
down the street. Galleries, selling a variety of artwork, sprouted like
mushrooms in season.
Louis, the owner of the
New-Face-and-Space gallery was in his forties, a black man. Although his
clothes were clean and his hair well groomed, he could not hide his face,
gaunt due to lack of sleep. He studied the five works of art that Nam brought
in as samples. He rubbed his hands to express his satisfaction with the way
Nam had built his paintings. He muttered pleasantly that in Nam’s works,
there were many interesting things that he had never seen before. He remarked
that some acrylic folding lines in one artwork looked fantastic. Very humbly,
Nam expressed his wish that his artwork be exhibited in the upcoming art
festival. The gallery owner laughed heartily and said that he would be
pleased to do so.
Conditions and terms of an
agreement between the gallery owner and the consigner were discussed as
usual. When approaching the commission part, the black man’s face beamed. But
his smile disappeared when Nam showed him the prices he wanted to sell his
paintings for.
The man said angrily, “My
God! Who you think you are to sell these paintings for millions of
dollars? Man, are you that crazy? Do
you know Thomas Kinkade? He is a famous painter,
and he does not ask the prices you do. What makes you that silly? You are
just a deadbeat unknown artist…”
In a conciliatory posture, Nam replied, “As I understand it, everyone
on Earth has to start as an unknown person in his debut, and I am no
exception. The issue is whether my artwork will be appreciated or not. That
is the point, for an artist to be recognized for his art.”
Louis scratched his head.
He said, “First of all, you should know that I have opened a business to make
money. If my goods are selling well, that’s good. The word 'exhibition'
sounds nice and pleasant to the ear; however, the bottom line is money,
money, and money…. Why should I display your stuff just for fun? I must keep this business alive; I have a
pile of bills to pay…”
He tapped his hand on his belly and continued, “The truth is,
this stomach has gone hungry many times. To be an art dealer in this poor
neighborhood is miserable. Happy days are only the days of festivals. Once in
a while, I baby-sit the neighbor’s kids to
survive. I know that you are in no
better shoes than I am. I suggest to you to start selling your products for
two to three hundred dollars each, so that people can afford to buy them.
Once the market for your artwork is booming and your name reaches more
people, you can set the prices a little bit higher. You know, you should climb the ladder one
step at a time.”
Like a dancing rapper, as
he talked, he broke into a little dance. He bent himself slightly and marched
forward one step at a time with knees high and arms moving along. “The slower
you go the more stable you are on your feet. Understand?”
To show the gallery owner his appreciation and
understanding, Nam offered to pay him some rent for the exhibition time. But
lowering the selling prices of his artwork was not possible. Nam told Louis
that he harbored resentment against society for its injustices toward
artists. During their lifetime, their artwork are often not welcomed or
appreciated. Merchants, under many guises and ploys, usually try to make a
big profit on paintings they buy, leaving to the artists just barely the cost
of the materials used. Gallery owners are hard on emerging artists; they
regularly treat the latter with a half-interested attitude. If there happens
to be an exhibition or show, participation is treated as a great favor. To be
presented in public, an artist has to learn the art of bending to the lowest
level; in doing so, he needs to swallow his pride. Many artists live in
misery. Because of their poverty, people often misjudge them.
Nam’s voice became more
and more insistent. He brought up the case of the prominent artist Frida Kahlo. During her lifetime, her paintings were
almost worthless. Kahlo lived her life under the shadow of her husband, Diego
Rivera. It took more than seventy years for her works to be recognized and
honored. Nowadays, when her paintings are sold for five million dollars each,
Kahlo is a ghost! Was that ghost floating next to her beloved paintings,
waiting for her day of glory? Was she happy with the late accolades she
received? Seventy years was surely long enough for another life!
Artists toiled their
entire lives to create art, but who actually profits?
Looking stern, Nam spoke
with a sharp edge to his voice, “Oh yeah, I am a rebel artist. I want to
break the chains to change traditions…Up to now, all deceased and living
artists are victims…I wish to reap my crop from all the seeds I have sowed.
How much I wish to taste the flavor of glory when I am still alive. One day,
when I am no longer in this world, what good would it bring me for you people
to tell stories, honoring me and making money off me? What nonsense!”
Louis stared at Nam. The
face of this artist was wrinkled in pain as he poured out his soul. Louis put
his hand on Nam’s shoulder and said, “Does it mean that you will not sell
these paintings if you do not get the prices you want?”
Imperturbably, Nam
responded, “You are absolutely right.”
Louis burst out in
resonant laughter. Conviction was written on his face. He proclaimed loudly,
“Doggone it! I definitely like your positive attitude. Man, I can do the same
thing too!... I will let you exhibit your artwork
this time, with no rent.”
As if to console himself,
he joked, “I should admit that I find your paintings very interesting…. Who
knows? As a matter of fact, since there is a crazy artist like you and a
crazy art dealer like me, it is very possible that there will be a crazy
buyer somewhere who will spend millions to buy a product by an unknown
painter, too. Hahaha!.. We
will split fifty-fifty, won’t we?”
7 –
Hundreds of people from
all over the city came in crowds to Alberta Street. From the beginning to the
street, more than fifty galleries opened their doors for shows. A large
variety of artwork with all kinds of techniques, all kinds of colors, was
presented. Some paintings showed delightful angelic images of dreams,
contrasting to others full of extraordinary odd characters from outer space,
or devils in their rage. Other paintings expressed inner feelings through the
presentation of a number of vibrant colors. These colors, in stark contrast
to each other, irritated people’s eyes at first; but they did carry new and
interesting traits. There were paintings created with extremely delicate
touch, while others exhibited unexpected simplicity showing just a few
straight lines on a dark, monochrome canvas. The very odd ones had human
beings’ legs and arms upside down and eyes, nose, mouth that were not at
their normal places. Taking advantage of new technology, some artists had
used computers to create beautiful digital images… Mankind was so rich in
imagination that showed a great abundance and diversity in Art. If there ever
were a contest, it would be hard to judge fairly because each work had its
own pride and value.
There were bountiful
displays of endowments of the mind and it was difficult to enjoy all of them
in such a crowded and noisy environment. People browsed the galleries like
they were window shopping in a mall. They glanced at everything, with a just-looking
attitude, and not fully appreciating Art. As a result, business was
negligible at many galleries.
But anyone who chanced to
step in the New-Face-and-Space gallery stayed there a long time. First, it
was due to the solemn atmosphere of the place, and secondly, it was the
enormous price attached to each masterpiece. People were willing to spend
time observing and studying the pieces. They tried curiously to figure out
why those paintings cost a fortune. The prices ranged from five hundred thousand
dollars to five million dollars!
The exhibition room was
huge. Under a well-arranged lighting system with special small bulbs, the
paintings seemed to rise, seemed to brighten up, seemed to welcome everybody
with a warm glow. More than sixty works of art created by the artist Pham Ky Nam spread a wonderful spirit that moved people’s
heart.
The artist stood at a
corner of the gallery. He silently watched the public in the room. There were
whispers. Fingers pointed. There were half-closed eyes as if the viewer was
in a dream state.…
A young blonde woman wiped
her tears and laid her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder. The man put his arm
around his lover’s waist, and asked what made her cry. Pointing at the
painting titled “No Apples”,
she said with a sniff, “Darling, am I that woman in the canvas? She is so
wonderful. I feel my soul flying in the air…”
An Oriental man, his chin
cupped in his hand, studied attentively, unblinking, a painting titled “Hope Never Dies”. A bright yellow
globe floated in the stormy ocean. Turbulent waves, merciless whirlwinds were
attacking it incessantly, but the globe was still afloat, thanks to a tiny
fragile feather that kept it lifted up at all times….
An elderly couple with
gray hair stood for more than fifteen minutes in front of the painting titled
“Unlimited Prosperity”. They
did not bother to move on to other artwork. The man changed his posture many
times; his head kept bending to observe the painting in many angles. The wife
seemed to be in great excitement as she leaned toward her husband, and
whispered some words. The latter nodded his head, his eyes still glued to the
images he saw in the painting. They looked like a happy couple.
Nam approached them. He
introduced himself as the author of all the artwork exhibited in the gallery.
He offered to answer their questions, if any. The man cleared his throat, and
then said, “The texture of this painting is very special. There is something
in there that draws me into it and makes me feel attached to it. I sense joy,
happiness, and my spirit is being inexplicably lifted up. I enjoy it very
much. But I cannot understand… I have no doubt that the painting is very
interesting; it is remarkably beautiful and it is rare. However, what makes
it so pricey? Is it worth five million dollars?”
Nam smiled. He spoke
slowly, “Well, I would like to ask you to just use your imagination for a
moment… Assume that I am presenting you with a bucket. Yes, a bucket full of
diamonds. They weigh five carats each. How do you react to that tremendous
wealth?”
The man and woman,
puzzled, did not know how to answer his question. Nam stared at them for a
moment, and continued, “Isn’t it true that your reaction would be something
like this?”
As he finished his words, Nam widened his eyes. His mouth opened
in amazement. His arms rose up to the level of his shoulders, and they stayed
there as if frozen.
The woman nodded her head repeatedly, “Yes!
Exactly!”
Nam immediately raised his finger and happily
said, “That’s it! When you first saw this painting, your reaction was
definitely like the gestures I just demonstrated… Please read carefully the
words written below the painting. It expresses the spirit of the artwork.”
The old man bent himself
forward; and he read each syllable slowly: UN-LI-MI-TED, PROS-PE-RI-TY. He
asked Nam why the artwork bore that name.
Nam asked back, “Do both
of you see countless diamonds that are scintillating in there?”
The woman observed knife
marks that gave faceted dimensions to the painting, as if in cuts of the most
precious gems, and she murmured, “Oh yes, there are so many diamonds…”
“Both of you, please bend your head a little bit and you will see
numerous gold, silver and bronze medallions.”
“Oh yes, my God! Why, so
many medallions!”
“Step back
a little, and do you not see mountains of gold and mines of silver that
instantly appear and disappear?”
Rubbing his eyes, the man
nodded his head. “That is right. Amazing! Before this, I just saw a big
canvas with some mystical colors. Now, as you pointed out, I discover within
it so many hidden treasures. Ah, they all hide in the depth of that
painting…”
“Of course, people usually
conceal their fortunes in secret places. If not, the thieves would rob them,”
Nam joked. “Well, you guys should look for more stuff. Do you see a bouquet of
blooming roses? Ah, la vie en rose! Yes, diamonds stand for being in an
eminent environment of richness and nobility. Gold and silver stand for
wealth. Medallions stand for honor.
Blooming roses stand for infinite happiness… That is absolutely unlimited
prosperity, isn’t it? You bring home an enormous treasure, and you only pay
five million dollars! I think it is a very good deal…”
“Yes! Yes! It is a good
deal for something that is so fantastic. However, where will we find the
money to buy it?”
As easygoing as he was,
Nam said, “Well, if you can not afford to buy my
painting, why don’t I let you touch it? Is that fair?”
They eagerly and
impetuously replied, “That’s good enough!”
The old couple went near
the painting “Unlimited Prosperity”. Each of them took Nam’s offer seriously
and, as they lightly touched the images on the canvas, their faces showed
great satisfaction. All the men and women present in the gallery requested
Nam to grant them the same opportunity. From nowhere, people in waves kept
coming in. Forming a long line, they snaked forward to touch that specific
work, even though most of them did not hear the conversation between Nam and
the old couple. They mimicked the gestures of others without questioning.
The owner of the
Face-and-Space gallery stood speechless and motionless for a moment. He never
saw a strange situation like this before. He then furrowed his eyebrows in
wonder. He shook his head. He muttered
to himself, “It’s unbelievable that this Earth has so many people who lose
their mind nowadays…”
8 –
On the very first day, the gallery had attracted a huge
crowd. But over the next few days, it was so quiet. Louis was terribly sad.
The exhibition would be ending in one hour and he had sold nothing.
Louis’s stomach ached when he
remembered his spontaneous, excited offer of free rent to Nam, while bills
kept piling up on his desk every day. He felt very uncomfortable each time
Nam reminded him of the spectacular scene of people lining up to touch his
painting. Nam seemed to enjoy this very much. There was no doubt that this
guy was very eloquent. Whoa! His tongue was as smooth as if it were covered
with grease, as sweet as sugar, and people easily accepted whatever he said.
His artwork was strangely magnetic, too. That night, it appeared that
everyone was fascinated with what they saw.
Louis walked tiredly up and down the room. He reminded
Nam to immediately remove all his paintings when the exhibition was over,
because Louis had already invited another group of painters to display their
works the next day. Nam nodded without a word. He understood Louis’s concern.
This guy looked at painting as a job to earn a living; he was not an artist
who regarded painting as a noble and destined obligation. Louis was in
business, so gain and loss should be considered seriously. There was
absolutely nothing wrong with this attitude because each individual had his
own imperatives. No one was completely wrong. No one was completely right.
Suddenly, a group of strangers walked in, and their presence
interrupted Nam’s thoughts. They all were very well dressed, with suit and
ties. They said that they had just participated in the inauguration of a
charity organization nearby. Before they headed home, they wanted to pay a
visit to the neighborhood. They wished to know the living condition of local
artists.
Louis greeted the crowd with generosity and invited them
inside. Talking about the Alberta neighborhood was something Louis really
enjoyed doing. Louis was born and raised there. He was extremely proud that,
not only his black community, but also Alberta, had become a cultural and
artistic center of the city.
Leaving Louis to brag about his neighborhood, Nam
followed the footsteps of another visitor who showed more interest in the
surrounding art than the lecture. He quietly observed every change of
expression on this man’s face, when the latter moved from one painting to
another. The man looked solemn.
When facing the artwork entitled “Unlimited Prosperity”,
the visitor could not hide his emotions. He looked at it attentively and
raised his eyebrows. Was it deja vu? The more he
looked at it, the more he found it so astutely familiar. He squeezed his
forehead. He tightened his lips. He crossed his arms in front of him and then
dropped them down. Finally, he walked to the next painting, only to go back
immediately to the previous one. What made him so attached to it? He heard an
inner voice saying that the piece was made for him. It must be his. Yes, it
had to be his.
The visitor turned around. Without hesitation, Nam said,
half jokingly, that the painting had indeed been longing for its owner for
quite a long time. The visitor smiled gently, saying nothing…
Louis was trembling as if he were in the middle of a
fever. In his hands was a check for five million dollars that he just
received moments ago. The number five followed by six zeros and the line
“five million dollars” in writing danced in front of him. Louis suddenly
burst out crying. He could not believe that he had become a millionaire at
last. He moaned, “Oh my blessed God! Oh my dear Nam!”
9 -
Nam leaned his head back on the sofa, his eyes
still on the television set. In the last few days, in daily news, all the TV
channels and all the newspapers worldwide repeated a recent hot event. In all
history of the visual art, it was the first time that an unknown living
painter, Pham Ky Nam, had broken a record. One of
his paintings had sold for five million dollars!
Nam recalled an article he
had read yesterday in the New York Times. The buyer of the painting
“Unlimited Prosperity” claimed that he felt lucky to own a piece of valuable
artwork. He was asked what made him
purchase a painting created by an unknown artist for a tremendous amount of
money, and why did he consider that painting a treasure? The man answered
that he did not care where the artist’s reputation stood in society. For him,
the substance of the work counted most.
Yes, for him, it was
absolutely a treasure. He said that the painting contained a very rich depth
within. He could not go further in details. However, he was pleased to share
with the public some pleasant and interesting things. For instance, when he
first “met” the painting on Alberta Street, it identified him instantly. He
had a vision of several gates opening widely to invite him to enter. A giant
castle with many windows suddenly appeared before him. As soon as he pointed
his finger at a window, a sea of wealth poured into that window continuously.
Money from all over the world was flowing nonstop into the castle.
The reporter asked, “Many
people said that they saw gems, medallions, precious metals, and roses in the
painting. Do you see them?”
“Of course, yes. There are
plenty of them in my home. So I was not a bit surprised when I saw them in
there.”
“We all know that before you bought the painting, you were, and
still are, the richest man on Earth. Do you need to be richer?”
“My own masterpiece, “The
Windows,” that I created a few years ago, did bring me unlimited prosperity
so far. Why do I need Mr. Pham’s painting to bring me another fortune? As you
see, the word Windows ends with an ‘s’; it means
that I have numerous more windows to open. All my future jobs will surely not
be because of money. My goal is to serve humanity, heading to more fantastic
and satisfactory horizons. Many windows of creativity will be widely opened.
In the next generations, mankind will rise and keep rising forever to conquer
the other spaces. Nowadays, the computer has its magic hands to reach, in the
twinkle of an eye, people all over the world. But in the very near future, we
will be able to contact, to communicate, to trade, and to cooperate with many
extra-terrestrial individuals, especially the ones on the planet of Mars… Ah!
I have gone too far; out of subject…Let me go back to the question… I bought
Mr. Pham’s painting for… First, I want to show my deep appreciation for him
who elucidated so well the word “creativity” through his work. Secondly, I
totally agree with his concept; if a creation is capable of responding to and
of satisfying mankind’s thirst of new adventures, evidently prosperity will
come along with it, unlimited. I am a living example… honor and wealth do not
come to me as lottery winnings. They are the rewards for my accomplished
creations.”
“So, the painting “Unlimited Prosperity” is an
unnecessary object for your wealth?”
“Why is it unnecessary? The painting and I, we were
looking for each other to improve upon each other. It will be a link between
the arts on Earth and the extraordinary and spectacular ones in the planets
that we are going to be friends with. For that reason, it is definitely a
treasure…I believe that I am the only one who is capable of keeping it safe.
Temporarily, please look at me as a trusted guardian …”
10 –
Barbra Winter, the
reporter of Channel ABCD News, visited Nam when he was busy reading his
emails coming from every corner of the world. After a half hour answering her
questions regarding his life, Nam felt exhausted.
Barbra wished to see his
paintings. Nam did not feel enthusiastic about the request. However, he led
her to his bedroom anyway.
“Oh!” Barbra gasped out loud.
On the four big walls of a
good size room, Nam hung side-by-side many of his artwork. Upon entering his
bedroom, Nam joked heartily, “There were times I was happy to think that, if
one day I fell into a deep sleep and never woke up, people would discover my
dead body laying in a forest of artwork. That would
be so fantastic…”
The reporter knew how to
joke too. She said, “You are really a romantic painter! But to lie in an
environment filled with colors like this, do you sometimes feel suffocated?”
Nam laughed easily, “Not
at all! Every day, while in bed, I can immerse myself in my own works, and I
feel overwhelmed each time I discover a new miraculous image popping out from
a such and such painting.”
“It means that your
artwork keeps creating continuously?”
“Exactly! They do not make
you feel tired of them, because they always produce new impressions for the
viewers.”
Barbra posed a question,
“What made you price the painting, “Unlimited Prosperity,” at five million
dollars? And why did you choose that number?”
“I asked five million
dollars to test the power of its spirit, and it worked! It is a challenging number
because in the past, only the artwork of artists who
have been dead at least 25 years have sold for millions of dollars.”
Barbra asked, “If you knew
that the painting “Unlimited Prosperity” has the ability to bring infinite
wealth to anybody who owns it, would you keep it for your own sake?”
Nam furrowed his brows. He
paused for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was deep with emotions but
crisp, “A masterpiece that carries a creative power within itself, once it
has been accomplished, no longer belongs to the person who created it. It
must be released to the world…”
He was pensive for a
while. Then, with a mellow smile, he continued, “It is the same for human
beings. Children are parents’ masterpieces, full of creative power. Once
these children reached adulthood, they will spread their wings to fly high.
And they will create new generations that keep going endlessly.”
Pointing at the many
paintings hanging on the walls, he said, “With all of this, I am a prosperous
person, am I not?”
“Does it mean that they
will bring you a good fortune and a great reputation?”
“They may. However, please
keep in mind that an artist feels much more fulfilled in creativity than in
being prosperous materially.”
With admiration, Barbra
nodded her head. She said, “Mr. Pham, you truly are an artist!”
The evening came fast.
Sunset was on its way to leap over the hills. Nam watched the streetlights
just illuminated, his hands clasped together. He murmured to himself the old
phrase, “Keep seeking and you will find. Keep knocking and the doors will
open.”
Yes, I have sought and I
have found. I did knock and doors were opened.
What blessedness!
HKKM, 2003
·
THE WRITERS POST (ISSN:
1527-5467),
the magazine of Literature & Literature-in-translation.
VOLUME
7 ISSUE 1 JAN
2005
Editorial
note:
Works published in this issue may be simultaneously published in the printed Wordbridge Magazine Issue 6 January 2005 (ISSN:
1540-1723).
Copyright © Hong Khac Kim Mai 1999-2005.
Nothing in this issue may be downloaded, distributed, or reproduced without
the permission of the author/ translator/ artist/ The Writers Post/ and Wordbridge magazine. Creating links to place The Writers
Post or any of its pages within other framesets or in other documents is
copyright violation, and is not permitted.
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