By XESKO
I
Walter McCoy was a of middle age man who had two bad habits, to constantly sipping Jack Daniels from a Whiskey Flask he kept in his pocket jacket and smoking a pipe in a way imitating his youth hero, Sherlock Holmes, who was compared to himself considering as an exceptional researcher, but losing himself constantly in melancholy thoughts with a lot of regrets for not having been born in times of epic swashbuckling. Despite its minor flaws, his work as an art historian, made basically in for the National Gallery, had garnered him many laurels and recognition not only nationally but also internationally. It was this recognition and success that made the direction of the British Museum invited to him to prepare the launch of the long-awaited sculpture by Marc Quinn.
For months, British newspapers had been talking about the launch and some of them had photos with parts of the statue, or showing a side view or just the top or bottom, making it impossible that he could get an idea of how it was in fact as a whole. This campaign had been his idea and was getting the desired result; the day of 4 October 2008 would be marked forever in the annals of art history.
He looked nervously at his watch and headed for the lobby of the Museum, it was time to lift the curtain.
II
John said a vague and dispersed “until next week” to is students of art theory, far from his usual aspect of fun and good-natured that was been is normal state to friends and students, his thoughts wandered through other places, was lost in the inauguration of the new work by Marc Quinn. He pick up the books he had on the desk and went to his office, in the wall was his diploma framed properly by standards, “John Robinson – PhD on Art Theory.” He took it from the wall and, unconsciously, polished it with his sleeve, repeating for the millionth time that gesture of boundless pride for his greatest achievement. He sat in his comfortable chair and began to scratch his beard very much like Freud, whom he perfectly identified and, briefly recalled the time of the College, where he became friends with Walter and Davis, when they became completely inseparable, good times… But now the reality was different, had commitments to be made and as a Professor from the Slade School of Art and understood in Art Theory, it should have a duty to go see the event carefully prepared to the British Museum by his old friend Walter McCoy.
He left the Slade and breathed the air of the surrounding garden considering going to the museum by subway, but its belly and unwillingness to walk led him to enter his Porsche 911 roadster coupe (if nothing else, was happy to show is car ). There was still 1:30 hours to get there, is plenty of time despite the heavy traffic normal at that hour.
III
“Davis, Brook Davis”, said him through his teeth in front of the mirror while wearing his suit. It was nice if his life was so exciting as James Bond, but no, Davis was a man of middle age, tall, dark-eyed, manly-looking seductive and athleticism but was merely a vulgar and monotonous art critic of the magazine “Art Monthly” preparing himself to go to the British Museum to attend the inauguration of the long-awaited art work by Marc Quinn a life-size statue of Kate Moss, carved in gold. The only thing that was similar with the British secret agent was the age and her athletic body that held religiously shaped, maybe because of that and his unstable life full of love affairs that he has changed its initial vocation to the priesthood for a life more typical bohemian who is normally connected to the arts.
Davis looked at his watch and put on the coat in haste, had only an hour to get to the museum. Down the stairs of the building and hurriedly rushed to the Piccadilly line. From his home to Holborn tube station was still about an hour.
IV
Davis was at an accelerated pace towards the entrance of the garden of the British Museum, when he saw his old friend John Robinson parking is Porsche.
— Hello John, don’t you think that it’s time you start a diet, your car is running sideways with your weight. – Said, in playful tone.
— Of course… I know exactly what you want, is staying with my part in our frolics – Replied with a lively laugh. – Then Walter also invited you?
— It did more than his obligation.
The two friends moved in joyous prattle to the museum talking, as always, about his golden moments and of the various games that they shared over the years.
The door of the museum was full of reporters. A string marked the way to the inauguration, the two friends drove quickly to the inside in time to see Marc Quinn unveil the long-awaited statue featuring the 34-year-old Kate Moss in a yoga position, making it less than three feet tall. Could be heard everywhere exclamations of surprise and pleasure while, as if it was a symphony, heard clicks and saw flashes of cameras.
Walter McCoy reached forward and asked for silence.
— Distinguished guests, colleagues, dear friends and reporters, I present you Siren by Marc Quinn, a 50kg solid gold sculpture of Kate Moss, as of today we can say that in fact the Supermodel Kate Moss has officially earned her weight gold.
There was a general laugh, Walter waited a moment and continued.
— Thanks to British artist Marc Quinn, her famous face and figure have been immortalized as a solid-gold statue, now I give you Marc Quinn.
There was a general ovation so Quinn approached the reporters.
— Today, I wrote a new page in the art history, the value of this life-size sculpture is more than US $18 million. I thought the next thing to do would be to make a sculpture of the person who’s the ideal beauty of the moment, the sculpture is really about whether we make images or they make us. It’s about trying to live up to impossible dreams and immortality…
While Quinn continued his speech, Walter went to the friends who watched with a critical look at all that scenario and inquired.
— So… What do you think?
— Not to doubt that it is impressive, but I wonder about the validity of such work of art in a classic museum as the British Museum. – John replied.
— More – Added Davis – all this was merely a parody as it is not the first time that Quinn made a statue using Kate Moss as model.
— You are not seeing the big picture; in fact, this is the largest solid-gold statue since Ancient Egyptian times. – Walter argued.
— I do not refute that argument, but as I said this is not the first time Quinn featured the supermodel in his work. His Sphinx sculptures also is of Moss doing yoga, the only difference is that series was cast using bronze. So this work is neither innovative nor deserving of such honors.
— In fact I even can see the importance given to the subject – John answered – but from a technically and theoretical point of view, Quinn does not present anything innovative, just a repetition of other similar acts of earlier artists.
— What you don’t want to understand – Walter argued – is the historical importance of the moment, you see, we can compare Mark Quinn’s statue of the supermodel holding a complex yoga pose, to the famous golden mask of Tutankhamun, like that mask, Siren is an image that glows and gives out love and light but it also remains completely implacable and silent.
— Oh yes, I see, – Said John ironically – Kate Moss is fashion’s golden girl, literally!
— And above all – Again added Davis – It’s doubtful that she’s able to contort herself so well in real life. However the statue’s thong-clad crotch is tipped up as she grasps her legs and it somehow becomes just as captivating as the statue’s face, like they’re competing for your attention.
A woman standing nearby, of humble and ordinary appearance, who listened quietly to the conversation, cleared his throat and interrupted them with an irritable conversation.
— The biggest problem between you three, is that each one is pulling the rope to his side and are incapable to see and appreciate the beauty of the statue, are trying to assign specific connotations with your profession or perhaps specific interpretations about particular areas of your study and, therefore, are forgetting the most important, enjoying the beauty of the moment. So do a favor to yourselves, emptied your heads of preconceived ideas and just enjoy the statue for what it is, just a beautiful work of art, nothing more than that.
And saying these words turned his back on them, without even showing intent to obtain a reply and went away. The three friends were astounded and look to the woman who was leaving and, as if ashamed, looked at each other and without saying anything, approached the statue and began to observe it closely, enjoying the surroundings and beauty and the way light was reflected and it conveyed a sense of calm and harmony.
After an indeterminate time, Walter looked at his watch and drew the attention of his friends to the hours; it seemed the time had flown without realizing, as had been enraptured by the beauty of the statue. The three friends walked to the exit, said farewell to each other and went away and as night involved them with a tender calm and peace of mind that none of them felt in years.
Want to read more? Writings from my Head
