Chapter 583 - 269: Sir Brown’s Fear (2)

Extremely important schedule items are lined up one after another.

His speech during the journalist’s interview is genuinely not an act.

Now even some billionaires interested in investing in art who want to meet with Sir Brown might have to book two weeks in advance.

The emperor won’t care about a beggar’s fate.

Online painters like Detective Cat, who can’t make it on stage, really aren’t worth the sect leader of "Oil Painting" magazine’s thoughts.

He just instructed each shareholder to slightly guide the public opinion, then went on to his own busy affairs.

The chairman still inwardly mocked Anna’s delusion of trying to make a turnaround with a fairy tale book.

The genuine collectors who can put up large amounts of money to decide the art market’s direction, some choose to believe their own eyes, while others choose to believe authority. Ultimately, when there’s a conflict between the two, most buyers will still choose to believe in authority.

The elements that can guide the market price of collectibles are always the praise of art criticism magazines, award experiences at biennales, and entering lists like Turner and the Barcelona Watercolor Award.

In the most mundane field of illustration, what genuinely holds sway are actually the Andersen Award, the Writing and Art Master Award, and the Belgian Gold Key Award, these industry prizes.

Only these things can truly turn a piece of linen canvas costing a few Euros into a piece of art with ever-increasing transaction values in the market.

Rather than the sentiment of "I like looking at it."

The aesthetic trends are held in Sir Brown’s hands, so what does he have to worry about?

Just to be safe.

Sir Brown also cautiously requested the Helafi shareholder, who has excellent connections in the American art scene, to contact Professor Boggs, an expert in painting knife painting, to write an art critique.

Specifically aimed at criticizing the shortcomings of Detective Cat’s paintings.

Even in a world of seven billion people, the only painter can sell painting knife work at prices over $50,000, denied Detective Cat.

A few speculators hoping for art arbitrage tricks would also put away unwarranted little thoughts.

Especially since "The Little Prince" is a world-renowned book.

Slightly manipulating the public opinion can make the market believe that Detective Cat is dragging down its sales if they’re low, and that its high sales are due to Saint-Exupéry’s good writing.

Only the nearly miraculous explosive sales can shake the authority of art criticism.

Now just a few days after the sale, the collector’s edition has sold 1,200 sets?

Having 1,200 paying buyers who aren’t tight on money isn’t explosively high, but it’s not a good start.

The sales cycle of a book is very long.

If the scalper teams who like to speculate on collectible gift boxes notice "The Little Prince" has some heat, the sales might even grow higher afterward.

"Professor Boggs refused my request." Helafi shareholder shook his head.

"Refused! Why would he refuse? Any painter would hope to please our ’Oil Painting’ magazine, and this opportunity is right in front of him now!" Sir Brown said with displeasure, furrowing his brow.

"That’s not incorrect. Professor Boggs already agreed to my invitation for a commissioned article last week, and he was quite happy to gain my personal friendship. Then he suddenly changed his mind, which happened to be on the second day after ’The Little Prince’ was launched."

"Boggs didn’t say it directly, but the implicit meaning in his words... I always felt that he might be... afraid."

Under Helafi’s round glasses, his small eyes seemed to wander, recalling the strange tone of Professor Boggs on the phone.

Afraid?

What is there to be afraid of in writing an art critique?

Unless.

In Professor Boggs’ mind, he saw a flawless masterpiece that seemed divine.

"Coward. The better Detective Cat paints, the more he should stand out at this moment. The canvas painting is so niche; there is already a small piece of cake in the art market. He wouldn’t like having another painting master come and split his interest, would he?"

"Try to persuade him further. It’s not convenient now, but in a few months, if his writing is effective, we might consider giving him a positive feature in ’Oil Painting’."

The chairman instructed in a deep voice.

Originally, for mid-tier painters like Professor Boggs, who average just tens of thousands of dollars, Sir Brown would use his face.

Dare to refuse inconsiderate of the favor.

The chairman doesn’t even bother to pay attention to him any further, even lazy to give a little punishment to such small roles.

Three-legged toads are hard to find, but friends willing to serve Sir Brown are everywhere.

Yet, Detective Cat paints with a painting knife.

Boggs is the only academic authority in this field worth naming, and having him lead an attack on Detective Cat would be the most effective.

That’s why Sir Brown decided to endure and offer benefits.

"I estimate the effect won’t be great, I already vaguely hinted on the phone before, willing to consider offering him a chance to hold a solo art exhibition in New York as an exchange."

Helafi shrugged to show that he understands their side can’t afford to lose in "The Little Prince" matter, so they’ve already offered substantial benefits as a promise.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York is the most influential art group in North America and New York.

A painter like Boggs, limited by the niche subject matter, if given a chance to have a personal art exhibition handled by Helafi personally, it could almost have an effect like a carp leaping over the Dragon Gate.

Might even take off the "niche painter" hat and considerably elevate his value.

Its allure is not less than a front-page feature interview in "Oil Painting."

"An article can earn a chance for a solo exhibition. If he isn’t tempted by this, the guy has gone mad." Even Sir Brown was shocked.

"He’s tempted, of course he’s tempted. I can hear the breathing of this painting knife expert over the phone becoming quickened."

"And he still refused?"

"Yes, after a full three minutes of silence, he still refused. He replied—"

Helafi rubbed his plump hands, "It’s not a matter of interest, it’s only related to art. He’s already 65 and has a lifetime professor position; he doesn’t want to be talked about by posterity for attacking an illustration set that might be recorded in history."

Ka-bang—

The chair in the office let out a crisp sound.

"Sir Brown? Are you alright?" Helafi worriedly looked at the distinguished elderly gentleman opposite the table.

Sir Brown silently sat there.

Helafi could see the other’s hand gripping the teacup with excessive force, causing the fingertips to slightly whiten.

The lake-colored tea water rippled like tides.

The chief adviser had known this titan of academic circles for many years, who was simultaneously favored and employed by the European Art Association and the Austrian National Publishing Group to lead the "Oil Painting" magazine.

His political acumen and academic achievements are equally profound.

In Helafi’s impression, his old friend was always an emotionally restrained, cunning old fox, a scene so out of character was a first in his lifetime.

"I’m, I’m alright, I’m fine." Sir Brown took a deep breath, slowly placing the teacup on the table, "Illustrations capable of being recorded in the art history, quite an overstatement for this Detective Cat."

What truly provoked Sir Brown’s intense reaction was not actually the praise from perhaps the world’s most prestigious painting knife professor for Detective Cat.

But his statement—this isn’t about interest, it’s only art related.

"Everything that happens in this office is art-related."

Sir Brown’s ears uncontrollably echoed with the crisp, powerful voice by Anna during their last meeting here, as she turned to leave.

Upon entering, he was still proud of eradicating all traces of the Ilyena family.

Then in an instant, reality slapped the Sir right across the face.

He could dismiss Eliot’s vulgar illustrations as children’s play, not worthy of attention.

Yet this light-floated statement nearly breached the old Sir’s defenses.

The dead memories start to assault him—it was almost like some unrelenting curse, some persistent prophecy.

What a joke!

Even if Detective Cat’s illustrations truly have the ability to be enshrined in history, opposing them, Sir Brown would still personally use ink to erase them.

The chairman’s left hand unconsciously tightened into a fist, seemingly wanting to crush the unwarranted sliver of fear in his heart.