New Horizon (OPEN)

[DeepBass]

Bass snapped back to consciousness, after falling asleep in his chair, and looked around. She's still buying paintings? Wow.

[NeilWacaster]

[bass! You're back! ]

Palétte noticed his friend dozing in his chair, but wasn't altogether surprised. I'm sure a musician has many nighttime pleasures to occupy him. Music being only the most obvious.

Turning back to Wind Mist, he purred, "Why yes, I just knew that you enjoyed pieces from the early classical period. In fact, I have a rather bright piece right here that might be just up your alley."

[Kalpira]

Wind Mist paced to Palétte's side once again, and her eyes now seemed to try to catch his attention but at the same time they showed she was worried about something. "Oh, that would be very nice of you to show me!", she said, but lowering her head right away, "But aren't I occupying your time too much? I bet there are lots of other ponies who want to talk to you, and I don't want to be a burden.", she said, scratching the back of her ear with one hoof. If there was a wuality that Wind Mist had, was that she worried about others before she worried about herself. And that new friend of hers was no exception.

[NeilWacaster]

Other ponies to talk to? Whatever could she mean? Palétte looked around, noticing that the class from the Stalliongrad School of the Arts had arrived, nearly filling the room. To his dismay, they had already drastically reduced the number of cupcakes on the refreshment table. Knowing that the class had come to learn, and not to shop, he could talk to them later. Much later. Right now, he had more paintings to sell.

Despite his near total lack of experience with romance, he noticed that she was making eyes at him. Judging that this was his chance to draw her in for more sales, he decided to play along.

"Occupying my time?" Turning his gaze to hers and raising his eyebrows suggestively, he replied, "No pony could 'occupy' me as well as you, my lady. My time and my art are fully yours. The others matter not, as long as we are together."

[Kalpira]

The elegant mare blushed heavily and then took a hoof to her muzzle, giggling behind of it. "You can talk to a lady as well as you can paint, Mr. Palétte!", she said, shaking the same hoof she had had over her mouth at him. "I would love to see one more painting or two, for as long as you let me watch you work with the ones studying you art.", she said, looking at the large group that had just arrived. For a moment she got thoughtful ... She could already imagine her little boombox all grown up in a group like that, studying whatever talent fate had chosen for him. She smiled widely, her eyes smiling together with her lips.

[NeilWacaster]

Palétte knew the signs. He had her wrapped around his hoof.

"Why certainly, my lady. Before I make my presentation for the class that just arrived, might I draw your attention to this piece, here?" He pulled a large canvas out of a stack leaning against the back wall. "Considering your affinity for pottery, I thought this might be an excellent choice to grace the wall above your collection." Thinking fast, he added, "And it would really help me out of a bind. You see, this piece was specially commissioned by a noble for his master bathroom, but at the last moment he backed out on the deal. But how fortunate for you. I've marked this piece to sell at a third of the price he was going to pay."

Picture for reference:

[Kalpira]

For a second, Wind Mist's happy expression turned into one of amazement, her mouth forming a small "o" as she looked up at the piece. Her eyes travelled from a corner to the other of the painting as she absolutely fell in love with it. She was even blinking slower, until a wide smile finally formed on her face. "Well, this one is my favorite, with no doubts at all!", she said, looking back at Palétte now with an excited expression, filling even her eyes. She had been looking for the perfect painting to fill the empty wall of her collection room, yet she hadn't found it yet. Maybe because she hadn't met the artist at the time, maybe not. But Palétte felt a really nice vibration coming from that painting. The flowers, the pot, the colours! Everything seemed to match perfectly and there were no flaws in her opinion. She was more specialized in pottery and relics, but that same piece looked really nice to her. "I'll take it too of --"

But her "alarm clock" rang in a sudden, waking her up from her recently arrived dreamland. Boombox cuddled himself against the carrier he was in and his vocal mode was on: as if somepony was hurting him, he started to cry at the top of his lungs, startling his mother a little bit while a few tears rolled down his tiny cheeks. Wind Mist looked down at him, her expression turning to a motherly one right away. "Excuse me, Mr. Palétte ...", she mumbled, blushing a bit, "There there, sweetheart. It was just a bad dream."

[NeilWacaster]

He had sold another piece, but that little thunderstorm was raining on his parade. He knew that after such a major distraction it would be difficult to get her back in the mood for buying.

As Wind Mist tried to comfort Boombox, Palétte deftly prepared the painting for transport, wrapping it in the brown paper. He brought the piece back to his patron and set it down before her. Inwardly, he sighed, and cursed his bad luck. Why couldn't the child sleep for just a few more minutes? This was going so well.

Outwardly, he put on an expression of the utmost concern. "Is he going to be alright, Madame Mist?"

[Kalpira]

Wind Mist noticed that Palétte's attitude had changed hastily, yet she knew that nothing was lost. She had had to bring her young one with her, mainly because she couldn't leave him back at Hoofington without any supervising. She caressed him with some feathers from her right wing, and the baby blinked a couple of times, hiccuping with the fear he had just felt on his nightmare. Yet Wind Mist already knew him as the base of her hoof, and already knew how to solve that.

"Yes, don't worry. It was just a bad dream. He will be back to sleep in no time.", she said. Her caresses on the baby's face still hadn't stopped, and young Boombox was closing his eyes a few seconds later. And in no time, he was back to sleep with a long yawn, curling back into his carrier.

She looked back at the painter. "Now, where were we Mr. Palétte?", she asked, with a wide smile back on her face.

[NeilWacaster]

Palétte smiled broadly, eternally thankful that the little squall had subsided. He detested children. There was nothing poetic or artistic about them. All they ever did was make messes and distract clients from their appreciation of his art. He had held a grudge against them ever since a young colt ruined a canvas he had been working on for four months. The little snot had been a little too curious in his studio, and his mother had refused to pay a fair price for the wrecked work. That one accident had nearly bankrupted him. He had had to subsist on instant hay noodles for months as he completely redid the canvas, and finally delivered it to an embittered patron far behind schedule.

The only use children ever were was when ponies had him paint portraits of their families, and even then the little boogers were constantly moving and making a fuss. Usually, he was able to convince the subject to let him paint the child from a favored family photograph. He much preferred these pictures to the real thing.

Clearing his mind of such thoughts, he replied, "I was just about to make my presentation to this group of students. You are more than welcome to watch, if you would like."

[Kalpira]

The mare smiled widely, and nodded at him. "I would be glad to watch.", she said, looking at the large group of ponies. She wondered how would it be to keep so many minds focused on her, specially if she was talking about a particularly deep subject. But if the subject was that interesting, why not?

[NeilWacaster]

Bowing courteously to Silver Wish, Newsworthy bid her adieu and trotted over to the professor who had brought the students. He was surprised to see that it was his friend, Leo Constellation.

"Leo? What brings you to the art world?"

The stallion smiled. "Dr. Prismacolor is sick, and asked me to substitute for her at the last minute. Besides, it gives me the chance to catch up with my little buddy."

Palétte brushed off this jab at his short stature. "Well, my friend, I'm glad that you were able to come. If the students are ready, then I'll start my presentation."

"They were born ready," Leo said. Stomping a hoof to get the attention of the students, he called out in his deep voice, "Quiet please! Palétte, the talented artist who created these masterpieces, has a few words for us. Let us give heed."

Stepping up to a huge canvas covered with an abstract splash of colors, Palétte merely looked at it. After about half a minute, the students began to murmur among themselves. As if on cue, he turned to face them. "You dare interrupt my appreciation of this piece of artwork?"

They shifted their hooves nervously. What was this kooky artist getting at?

"Art is not something to be gulped down like a basket of hay fries. It is a full, multi-course meal. And it starts with taking the time to understand it."

He looked around at them, sternly. "Now, as I'm sure you know, what makes something a work of art is only the mind of the observer. As unenlightened ponies are commonly heard to say regarding abstract pieces, 'this could have been made by my filly!' And it is partially true, although mature artists take much more time and are much more subtle with their works. But disregarding that, the filly's artwork would be worth little or nothing, while a famous artist receives millions for a similar work. Why is that?

"It's all in your head. The prestige of the artist, the feelings that the painting evokes, the intrinsic pleasure of owning a creative work."

He looked at each student, one after another. "But where do you come in? You glance for a few brief seconds at these pieces that took me weeks, or months, to create. 'Meh, that's rather garish.' 'The shading is off.' 'I like the bunny.' After less than a minute, you walk away. What presumption.

"How do you expect to understand the feelings, the blood, the sweat, the tears that went into creating this piece in a few seconds of surface level contemplation? There are hundreds of levels of meaning in this work. Now, I want to know how many you can unveil. Tell me, what do you see."

A student raised a hoof. Palétte glared. "Were you even listening to me? You couldn't possibly be ready to give an answer. Now, gaze upon this canvas. Look into its soul. And tell me ... what do you see?"

[DeepBass]

Bass raised an eyebrow at Palétte's speech to the artist, nearly choking on the cupcake that he had just started eating. He's really serious about this stuff. It's almost scary.

[NeilWacaster]

The students stood in silence, looking intently at the painting. Palétte paced back and forth before them, making sure that they were all giving their full attention.

After about five minutes, he sighed deeply. "While your contemplation should continue for an hour or more to approach the full effect of this piece, the constraints of time require that we move on. You should be able to give me some insights. How did this piece make you feel? What meaning does it have to you, that it does not, could not, convey to any other?"

A student raised a hoof tentatively.

"Yes, you there. What do you see?"

The young stallion squinted at the painting. "It makes me feel ... angry."

Palétte's brow furrowed. "Alright ... that's a start. Why is that? What about the work gives you that impression?"

"The red blotch in the middle. It reminds me of an explosion."

"There must be more. Tell me more," Palette gesticulated, indicating that he must go on.

The student looked down at his hooves, thinking. "I hate war. This piece reminds me of war, and thus it makes me angry."

Palétte mimicked the answerer, mocking him. " 'The red blotch reminds me of war, and war makes me angry.' And you call yourself an artist. You should thank Celestia that you have years of training before you. Pathetic. Simply pathetic."

He walked back to stand before the painting. His voice was even, measured. "Apparently your teachers have not taught you the most important rule for critiquing art. Subtlety.

"The themes that you chose, amateur, were far too broad. 'Anger,' 'war,' and 'hate' are enormous topics. Just one of those themes would take a lifetime to express throughout a body of thousands of artistic works. This piece is only one, tiny drop in the ocean I create. I don't expect you to receive the same messages that I had in mind when I painted this piece, as art is a fully subjective form of expression. However, I do expect you to be able to find your own meanings. Now, again I ask you. Tell me what you see."

The students, frightened by the artist's harsh words, were silent.

Palétte looked at them in disgust. "You foals have no conception of how to perform under pressure. Fine! If you won't answer, I'm sure that one of these more competent ponies will be able to give a more intelligent response."

He looked at Deep Bass, then turned towards Silver Wish, with a mischievous grin. Addressing them both, he said, "Well? Can you show these bumbling foals how to critique a piece of art?"

Picture for reference:

[Kalpira]

Wind Mist took a step forward, allowing herself to participate in that improvised class given by Palétte. She knew he was maybe being a little bit too harsh, but only that way young ponies would understand the true meaning of art. She stood in front of the painging, tilting her head to the sides for several times, and even shading her sight with her wide pegasus wings. After a few long minutes, she had heard the students mumble among each other, like hey had done with Palétte himself when he looked at his painting. But this time, she heard giggles as well, as if she was making something really funny. Maybe she was, but over the years that had been the way she had learned to appreciate art pieces.

She finally turned to the artist. "Well, I am no specialist, but in this painting I see the contrast between the cold colors -blue for example- and the warm colors -red and orange for example. But the presence of purple, which is almost a neutral color, makes me see that there is some sort of conciliation that Mr. Palétte tried to find between cold and warm colors in order to keep the painting neutral in some areas. The base, hmmm ... makes me think about fire, but a fire that is not so intense after all, since the strokes are fading because of the blue.", she explained, looking at their frightened little faces.

[DeepBass]

Bass stood from his seat, and trotted over to the painting, adjusting his glasses, and scanning over the picture. It didn't take him long to figure it out, having done things like this before. Normally, he would've played along and spent a few more minutes, just to keep the artist happy, but after seeing the way he snapped on simple foals, Bass was feeling like he was just challenged. He turned and looked at Palétte, a serious look on his face. "Well, judging by the vague and undetailed nature of the painting, I'd wager that this painting was more than likely inspired by an inner turmoil of sorts. Perhaps a feeling of loneliness. Perhaps the artist, during a late night binge on whiskey, and hard cider with a splash of fine wine to keep up appearances, felt some futility within himself. Said futility possibly brought on by a lack of true friends. Regardless, the feeling burned within him like a flame on the plains, so in order to get the feeling off his chest, he painted the feeling to canvas, effectively allowing the world to see his pain. Therefore this painting makes me feel two things the first is that the artist should really find a better place to stash his liquor, and two, it makes me feel sympathy. I feel for the artist, and would be rather proud to call him a friend."

Bass looked back at the foals, who were now staring at him, wide-eyed, and slack jawed.

"Heh… heh… Too detailed?"

[NeilWacaster]

As Silver Wish finished her interpretation, he gave a wide smile and nodded in approval. Again, though, this was just for show. He was frustrated that she had basically just noticed the colors in the painting and had taken little actual meaning. However, he restrained his critical tongue, knowing that he must keep on her good side.

As Bass walked over to the painting, Palétte looked smug. This one may know music, but my art is far to subtle for him. Ah, well. Let him try. It shall be amusing.

He waited patiently as the musician studied the painting. When he began to give his critique, Palétte's eyebrows shot up in surprise. This stallion really knows what he's doing. I wonder if he has formal artistic training.

As Bass detailed how he guessed the painting was inspired, the artist was taken back to that fateful moment. He remembered that it was the day when his only friend had moved away. The son-of-a-birch had gotten a new job in Canterlot, and promised he would write, but never did. He promised he would visit, and never did. He promised.

As Bass finished, Palétte looked at him with newfound respect. "Too detailed? Too detailed!? Far from it. That was the best critique I've heard in years. You may be a musician, but the artistic bent is strong with you."

Turning to the students, he said, "Look upon this stallion and wonder, my little ponies. Pray that one day you will be as astute an observer as he, although I seriously doubt it, considering your abysmal performance this evening. The meaning that he took from the painting encompasses both the essence I wanted to convey as well as a personal meaning for himself. No more needs to be said. Our class is dismissed, and you are free to continue your pathetic little lives. Feel free to approach me with questions or contemplations, but please, make sure that whatever you say to me has some modicum of insight."

The students separated into small groups, discussing the artist's words and looking, almost fearfully, at some of the other paintings.

Leo stepped forward. "You were much too harsh with the students, Palétte. A teacher must be kind, as well as critical."

Palétte dismissed this idea with a wave of a hoof. "If you don't like the way I teach, then don't bring the students to my exhibit. Young ponies need a kick in the flank if they're going to remember anything. You mark my words, they'll never forget what happened here tonight, and their art will be the better for it."

Leo shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder about you, my friend. Sometimes I wonder." He walked over to the refreshment table and began to sip the last cup of champagne.

Palétte turned back to Bass, with a serious expression. "You, sir, are a marvel. I never would have expected a musician to be able to understand my work so completely."

[DeepBass]

Bass offered a flattered smile, as he rubbed the back of his head. He wasn't expecting such a warm reaction to his rather harsh critique, but he was glad it wasn't taken the wrong way. "Well, I guess music and painting are both rather deep in their emotional sides. It can be expected, I suppose."

[NeilWacaster]

"Indeed it can." His look was one of admiration. "I misjudged you, Bass. I assumed that a musician would care naught for my art. But you proved me wrong. Not only that, but if you truly do sympathize with me, then you are the first in a long time. I can't say how much I appreciate that."

He looked down, his old social anxiety holding him back. He could put on a good front, but he still had trouble with this sort of thing.

[Kalpira]

Wind Mist headed towards the two stallions that were now having a conversation about the paintings, and she approached the stallion with glasses. "I'm amazed about your painting examination skills! Not even I could reach such conclusions.", she said with a wide smile, and then she stretched her hoof at him. "Wind Mist. Pleasure to meet you."

[DeepBass]

Bass chuckled nervously, as Palétte's whole preconceived image of him seemed to be flipped on its back. "Well, it's what I-" Bass turned, and looked at the mare who had just approached, praised his abilities more, and extended a hoof to him. He reached out, and shook the mare's hoof. "I'm a musician, ma'am. It's almost required of me to look at a piece of music, and figure out what exactly was going through the composer's mind, in order to perform the music in the way that it was originally intended. Deep Bass, ma'am."

[NeilWacaster]

"Madame Mist is a dealer and collector of fine art, primarily from the early classical period. Perhaps you've heard of it? Most art from that time is clay pottery, and some of the creativity with their glazes is simply remarkable, even today." He smiled at the lady.

[Kalpira]

Wind Mist listened to all the words that Palétte pronounced, and then turned back to Deep Bass. "That is quite right. I keep increasing the number of pieces in my collection, specially in the pottery section. But I had to come and check on some paintings here and then as well.", she then said, letting out a giggle beneath her light pink veil.

[DeepBass]

Bass looked over to Palétte, and nodded, listening to his words very closely, then turned back to Wind Mist, nodding as she spoke. "I see. Any kind of art is always rather fascinating, to be honest, and to meet a mare with such tastes is quite the privilege indeed." Bass offered a warm smile, as he softly pushed his glasses back into their proper position.

[NeilWacaster]

"Indeed it is a pleasure to meet such a lady," the artist remarked. "I simply must know more about you. What sparked your interest in art collecting?"