Weekly Drabble #342: Art Deco (Patreon)

This week's prompt is from Framing Device with 'in poor taste'. Enjoy!

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Art Deco:

“Come right here, my friend. I spoke to Jonas and he vouched for you. So, you have an interest in, shall we say, our more interesting objets d’art. Well, let’s take a look at the collection, shall we? Forgive the extra security, but these items here – whether you believe or not – do warrant it.

“So it goes with this painting. Those who have something to be proud of say it inspires them, lifts them up and gives them a sense of purpose. Some even say that just possessing it makes things fall your way, improving your fortunes and life. But there is a price. Though the owner sees inspiration and invigouration upon its canvas, others see something else, something quite darker... at least if you believe all the stories. But what is art without a story?

“This piece here, for example. It quite a few stories, and I will leave it up to you to decide how many or much of them are true. The artist is unknown, as is the date it was made, but the frame dates back to the 18th century, and it still has its original brass nameplate. ‘My Triumph’. An evocative name, don’t you think? So why, I know you wonder already, is it hidden beneath this sheet? As I said, my friend, this particular painting has many stories surrounding it.

“The piece recently passed into my hands from an estate auction. It once belonged to a fine young gentlemen, though he did not own it for very long, and whatever fortune it may have brought him was swiftly outweighed by... ah, but that’s getting ahead of myself. The young man in question grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, but through hard work and determination, he made something of himself and even caught himself a lovely wife. Sadly, she was Old Money and her parents never much cared for him. Picking, sniping, sneering. One day he stood up for himself, and good for him.

“High on confidence and filled with the thrill of righteous defiance, he went for a drive. If he’d only been true to his roots and gone for a beer or a toke, or even celebrated with some paid companionship, then all would have been good. Instead, he travelled around the high end of town, for the first time feeling like he belonged there and fate, oh cruel fate, saw him pass eventually visit a little known gallery and there, in the back, he found this piece and became immediately smitten with it.”

“What is it, you ask? Well, to hear our ill-fated friend tell of it, it was an abstract piece that spoke to him on a deep level, capturing and reflecting back the confidence he felt, assuring him he’d done the right thing in standing up to his in-laws. To his wife who laid eyes open on it, which then set in motion the dissolution of their marriage and his financial ruination at the hands of her family’s lawyers, it was something very different.

“From her testimony, it was a gaudy and obviously commissioned piece, showing her husband – bare-chested, standing tall and glowing – remonstrating her snivelling, cowardly and caricatured family while she clutched adoringly to his legs. That he’d gotten it so quickly meant he had orchestrated the whole ordeal from the very start. As you can imagine, such a thing was both humiliating and enraging to a woman of her station, with such deep connections to her family. She didn’t listen to a word he said in his stupefied defence, departing the next day and from there... well, there’s a reason this piece has come into the house’s hands.

“Before then? Ah, a good question. Our unfortunate friend bought it from a shop that had snapped up the estate of a departed art dealer. I knew her, you know. Her name was Anna. She was young but with a keen eye for art... and an even keener eye for her female customers, but the story doesn’t start with her.

“Like our last little tale, this involves a high society couple. The wife, young and vigorous. The husband, ambitious, driven and always working. You can ascribe whatever you like to his motivations; he says he wanted to provide only the best for the woman he loved. She said he cared more about work than spending time with her. Whoever you believe, his actions nonetheless led to a lonely marriage and unintended neglect for his wife. She tried to fill this void with friends, shopping, vacations but never quite managed to do so. Her latest and last obsession was fine art, whereupon fate – oh, cruel fate – brought her into Anna’s circle. Like a jaguar on the hunt, Anna charmed the other woman. Not just as a client, dazzling her with rare finds and lovely pieces that began to fill her house, but with wine, conversation, gentle whispers and shared laughter and from there, well quite a bit more.

“In the absence of her husband, our neglected wife felt life and colour return to her world. In Anna’s arms she found the companionship she’d been longing for, but fortune turns as it does. Her husband was out of the country, closing a major deal and preparing a long vacation with her to make up all the time he’d been away. During that time, she found one of Anna’s oldest pieces and was struck by its vibrancy. To her, its bright colours and gentle shapes spoke of flourishing, tenderness and growth – even love. Feeling guilty over her affair, she bought it on the spot and hung it in the main, so that it would be the first thing her husband saw when he returned. With the effect it had on her, she was sure, it would speak to him just as strongly.

“Well, she wasn’t wrong. Our workaholic husband returned to find his wife greeting him, and above the mantle, staring him in the face was – if you pardon the crudity, but I think you’ll agree it’s a necessary evil here to truly encapsulate what this man saw – not an abstract image of gentle love and burgeoning excitement, but an incredibly realistic portrayal of Anna railing the woman he loved, the pair of their faces twisted in orgiastic glee as they fucked upon the room’s master bedroom. One hand of Anna’s was pulling on his wife’s hair, the other was filled with a fistful of his money as he, small and impotent, sat in a shadowed corner of the room and watched.

“Without a word, he turned from his wife and left the house, drove to Anna’s business and beat her to death. After the trial and his sentencing, his wife returned the piece to her lover’s gallery as she could no longer bear to look upon it.

“How did it come to Anna? That is a little fuzzy, I’m afraid. The best I can find is that it was passed down through her family when it came into their possession in the 1950s. I’m sure you’re aware that race relations in this country have been rocky, but more in the past than now. This story begins after the end of the second great war and a pair of soldiers. One white, one black. In the crucible of that hellish conflict, they’d forged bonds of friendship deeper than skin. Or so they thought.

“After the war, the white soldier had an idea for a business, but no money to start it. As he was not exactly from the creme de la creme of society himself, securing the capital proved difficult. He turned to his friend and through him, other members of the black community to draw up the funds. For a while, everything seemed fine. Have I not said that this piece offers much? Here, we see what it can. The business grew, the friends became business partners but fate, oh cruel fate, always has its turn, doesn’t it?

“Perhaps the white soldier knew what it was and that was why he kept it hidden away, with the intent that it never be seen. An inheritance and a warning passed down through his family for generations, a promise of fortune but also the consequences of it. Or perhaps he was blind to the truth, never truly knowing what this strange piece of art was. When he looked upon it the first time, perhaps he had not enough pride in himself or his accomplishments to see it reflected on its canvas and it was forgotten, eventually moved into the new house he could now afford as many other bits of detritus are carried with us throughout our lives. Perhaps, my friend. Perhaps.

“Whatever the reason, he didn’t realize things were amiss until it was too late. His friend’s children, always welcome at his house, came downstairs. They’d gotten into the attic playing hide and seek with his own children and they told their father about the ‘funny picture’ they’d found of their uncle and asked him why he’d never told them his uncle was an explorer.

“Curious, his friend went to the attic to see this painting for himself. There, beneath a dusty cloth was an image of the man he’d believed to be his brother dressed as an explorer, complete with pith helmet. He was duping a clan of apes out of gold and treasure, a superior, condescending smirk upon his lips as he took their wealth and offered back trinkets and worthless baubles to their amazed, hooting faces.

“As you can imagine, their partnership and friendship ended on bad terms. Some say the painting merely shows what the owner truly thinks of their situation and accomplishment. Others say it twists the darkest fears and envy of those around them into a re-imagining of those events. Whatever the truth, the longer you own it, the finer your fortunes become... until someone looks upon it and sees a side of you, whether truth or fiction, that is utterly repugnant to them.... and utterly unforgivable.

“So, my friend... would you like to take a look beneath the canvas and see what of your triumphs this work of art wishes to show you?”