Chapter 8: The Three Paintings

The way that Dante brushed off the death of one of the people under his employ like some mundane occurrence troubled Jon. He too nearly lost his life to the sharks if not for the quickness of Captain Salazar. Or is Dante intentionally evading discussion of the incident? Could he be hiding something?

Questions flooded Jon's head, but he decided not to talk about the incident any further with his client. Dante seemed to be no different from the captain of the Golden Cowrie as to his apathy and coldness towards people under his employ. If not for the difference in physical appearance and state of health, Jon would have thought of Dante and the captain as the same person.

Dante seemed more alive than when Jon saw him at the entrance hall earlier. His movements were faster, his speech clearer, and his face, though still pale, seemed more relaxed and youthful. Perhaps, there was some truth when he likened himself to nocturnal creatures who become fully awake at night as they search for their prey.

Based on the number of paintings and tasteful decorations, Jon could tell that Dante was clearly obsessed with art, but Dante's tastes tend to be unusual, even macabre. After Dante talked briefly about the importance of Dali's paintings in the development of surrealism and how the artist came to paint his most important work - The Persistence of Memory, he talked to Jon at length about the images of death as they appeared in the history of art.

"Have you noticed how humans have depicted death and suffering more and more as time goes on?" Dante asked. After getting tired of painting religion, artists created secular paintings. Then came the still-lifes showing beauty and excess, but later on they painted vanitas - skulls crept into still-lifes to show the transcience of life, how death ultimately triumphs over life."

"How about portraits and landscapes? Do they also depict death." asked Jon, trying to disprove Dante's theory.

"Sometimes, paintings are much more subtle. You would recall Jan Van Eyck's Portrait of Giovanni Arnolfini and his Wife. Or you can search for it."

"Yes." Jon nodded as he remembered seeing a picture of it and did a quick search online. "It's considered one of the best paintings in European art. I haven't seen it personally, but I am familiar with Van Eyck's works, especially the Ghent Altarpiece."

"So, you've been to Ghent?" Dante eyed Jon curiously.

Jon chuckled. "No, unfortunately. Seeing the actual works of the Dutch masters, however, is on my bucket list."

Dante did not seem to mind and continued, "Well, the Arnolfini portrait differs from that other work you mentioned . Aside from being a secular painting, one of the subjects in the portrait is not alive."

Jon looked at the pale face of Giovanni Arnolfini under his black hat.

"It's not Giovanni, if you're thinking that it's him." Dante commented to Jon's surprise. "It was his wife."

Jon was surprised with the information and thought of reading more about the painting when he got the time.

"As for landscapes, let me mention one of Vincent Van Gogh's last paintings - Wheatfield with Crows."

Jon did a quick search and found the painting. It was one of Van Gogh's greatest works and also one of his last. While many of Van Gogh's landscapes did evoke a feeling of sadness, this one stood out with its symbolism of crows and three diverging paths. Jon knew the painting well from prints and the art documentaries he liked to watch. He knew that it was at the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam which he would also very much wanted to visit.

"Surely, you've seen the actual painting in Amsterdam," said Dante, closely watching Jon's facial expressions and body movements.

"Unfortunately, no. Although some say that seeing it in person could be overwhelming, but instead of death and suffering, I see Van Gogh's paintings as inspiring, knowing how they changed how we see the world."

Dante frowned, seemingly disappointed. "Are you familiar with the works of John Nash? Search for his painting – We Are Making a New World."

Jon did as he was told and saw the painting of a sunrise over a landscape of muddy terrain and barren tree trunks.

"Sunrise. Always seen as a symbol of hope, but that sunrise revealed the death and destruction brought by war. So, what kind of a new world are we making?" asked Dante rhetorically.

Jon was still looking at the painting and wondered about the artist's intention in creating the work. Perhaps, he could take another look at it in his spare time.

"That brings us to modern art. I will just mention Damien Hirst's sculpture 'For the Love of God'.

Dante paused. Jon tried to remember the sculpture by the modern artist. It was controversial due to its cost and for allegedly failing to get a buyer, suggesting the possibility of a contemporary art bubble.

"I remember that sculpture - a memento mori. It was a diamond-studded skull."

"You are correct," said Dante, obviously pleased. He then went on talking enthusiastically about other paintings.

"Artworks tend to be the reflection of the artists' inner thoughts and artists tend to represent their people and their times. This renewed interest in depicting death and human suffering is simply indicative of the society that we live in, don't you think?" Dante asked.

Jon merely nodded as images of death and violence inundated his mind. The images were not just in painting it seemed, but in all forms of art – film and sculpture, among others. He also could not recall watching the evening news without seeing reports of violence and murder.

"All my most valuable paintings are in this room together with my books. Aside from the added security, you'd notice that there are no windows. I had very few windows installed in the mansion to protect my precious art from the harsh sunlight. The temperature and humidity are carefully controlled in this room in order to preserve the paintings." He confided to Jon that only two people were allowed to stay in the library at any one time in order to keep the ambient air at the best possible condition for preserving the paintings.

"Let me show you some of my priced paintings which I have acquired over the years," Dante said, holding the armrests of his chair to stand up. Jon immediately rose from his chair to help his client, but Dante simply refused with a wave of his hand.

"I can stand up. Don't fuss." From under his desk, Dante took out a cane of carved hardwood. It was reddish in color and was polished until it obtained an almost natural sheen. The carvings on the cane itself were ornate and geometric without any recognizable pattern or design, but the gold handle was of a grotesque figure that seemed to be a mix between a bat and a snake.

Dante proceeded to walk towards one of the paintings near the door and flicked a switch. Immediately, light beamed down from the top of the frame to show the painting with greater clarity.

"What do you think of this?" Dante turned to his side where Jon was already standing.

The painting showed an emaciated man with all his limbs seemingly cut off from his body. There were cuts and bruises as well as discolorations on his skin. He appeared to be sitting on the floor although his background was just a white void. His head was turned to the side and was bowed in dejection. The man in the painting did not appear to be in pain, but his physical state, the expression on his face, and the artist's use of color made Jon feel overwhelming hopelessness and sadness.

"Schiele?" asked Jon, not quite sure.

"You're right to hesitate. It's not by Schiele." Dante smiled. "This was painted by a Polish artist after the Holocaust. His pregnant wife was killed by Nazis in front of him before he was sent to the concentration camps. This was his last painting after the war when he returned to his apartment in Silesia where he eventually hanged himself."

Jon did not speak at first, but looked at the painting closely. The painter's style was similar to that of Egon Schiele, but by looking closely at the brush strokes and choice of color, he could tell that it belonged to another era. Dante's clues about the painter's life and manner of death helped Jon identify who the painter was.

"Kowalczyk. He considered this his self-portrait before he committed suicide. This painting broke records for a Kowalczyk painting when it was auctioned off last year. It was sold to an undisclosed buyer." Jon mumbled.

"And that undisclosed buyer is me," said Dante smiling widely, his sharp teeth glistening in the dim room. "Let's see if you can guess who painted the next one."

Dante walked eagerly to the next painting, his cane tapping on the wooden floor like a one-legged giant insect. He likewise turned on the pin lights and the painting exploded in colors of bright red and burnt sienna.

"This painting is something I really like. Tell me what you think?"

The second painting showed a half-naked man with eyes opened wide as if in a crazed state. In his hand was something that looked like a severed human arm while blood was seen dripping from his mouth. He appeared to be in a desert and faint smoke was rising in the distance.

"The painting reminds me of Goya's painting of the titan Saturn devouring his son as well as Gericault's Raft of the Medusa, but this had the realism of Caravaggio without any religious symbolism that I can see."

"Very good! And the artist?"

"I'm not sure." Jon pressed his hand against his chin as he tried to guess.

"This is what happens to man if you leave him stranded in the desert without food," Dante said with a short laugh. "The artist was a survivor of a plane crash in the desert. True to the meaning of the word, he was a predator rising above his prey. He was able to survive by killing his fellow passengers. When he was rescued, he had a short period of lucidity and was able to paint this. It was supposed to be cathartic according to those who were close to him, but eventually, the artist lost his mind."

"And he was placed in a lunatic asylum where he died!" Jon exclaimed, his eyes growing wild. "Is this the missing Gonzalez? It was mentioned in letters and memoirs, but no one had actual proof that it exists. People were saying that it has been lost forever!"

"No. Not lost. It eventually came into my possession," said Dante, glowing with pride. "The next one is something that you'll also find quite interesting. It is the oldest painting in my possession," said Dante.

The third painting showed a black figure that was hardly discernible in the darkness. He appeared to be coming out of a tunnel or a well. Dante flicked on the pin lights and Jon's attention was quickly drawn by the eyes that glowed red like embers.