Read Online Gently With the Painters by Alan Hunter - Free Book Online Page A

dear fellow?’
    ‘Wasn’t it noisier than usual?’
    Mallows screwed up his mouth. ‘N-no, I wouldn’t have said so. Just the same old fiddles playing the same old tunes.’
    ‘And what tunes were they?’
    Mallows twisted his mouth again; then he peered up at Gently, half questioning, half amused.
    ‘To kick off with, you’d better have a look at the pictures. They’ll probably tell you as much as I can about it. I’ll just say this … they’re a pretty fair sample. So have a look round, and then tell me what you find.’
    This was something which Gently had intended doing in any case, and after a moment’s silence, he fell in with the suggestion. With Mallows bobbing at his elbow he proceeded from stand to stand, answering with monosyllables and grunts the academician’s exclamations.
    Overall, it was such a mixture as one would have expected to find there, giving the impression of talent fixed between mediocrity and ability. Here and there a picture stood out as though in promise of better things, but one felt, in those surroundings, that such a picture was a lucky hit. There was nowhere to be seen the confident vitality of an established professional.
    Every exhibit, in fact, seemed in the nature of an experiment, and gave no suggestion of powers of reproduction . After a number of failures a fortunate canvas had evolved, but one could sense the inability to command such another. Once a year, there would be one or two to put in the exhibition.
    There was, however, a variety in the scope of the experiments, and this prevented the exhibition from being entirely dull. Apart from Wimbush’s fish there were other unusual lines – Shoreby, for instance, painted geometrical panels, and Lavery postcard-size abstracts.
    ‘That’s Aymas’s rude, raw brush …’
    Mallows pointed to a group of three vigorous landscapes . They commanded a certain distinction by their daring use of primaries, but otherwise Gently could see in them little of interest.
    ‘And yet the fellow has talent, if he ever lets it out. But he won’t while he sticks to understudying Seago … There’s one of Baxter’s posters – a surprising use of purple! – and a Phil Watts interior. He’s the youngster at the desk.’
    At the end of the tour Mallows turned to Gently expectantly, his brushed-up eyebrows giving him an owlish appearance.
    ‘Did you get what I meant, or would you like me to tell you …?’
    Gently grinned. ‘I think I got it … aren’t there two schools of thought?’
    ‘Splendid, splendid!’ Mallows patted him on the shoulder . ‘My opinion of you was never higher, Superintendent. You’ve hit the target first go – we’ve got a split down our middle. It’s tradition versus modernism that rocks the cellar walls.’
    ‘Aymas, Seymour and that lot …’
    ‘Precisely. Aymas is their champion.’
    ‘Wimbush, Lavery and Shoreby—’
    ‘They’re the shock troopers of the opposition. Numerically , Superintendent, the two factions are about the same, but the reactionaries shout the louder and the opposition is the more biting.’
    ‘And your job is to hold the balance?’
    ‘That, alack, is my leading function. On the first Monday of every month I fetch my armour from the cupboard.’
    Insensibly they had drawn back towards the booth ofWimbush fishes, which continued the least frequented site of the exhibition. But now, Gently noticed, they had a periphery of followers – the bored characters, undoubtedly members, who had been listening to Mallows’s address.
    In reality there were but three of them, and they kept out of normal earshot; but they were persistent in their presence and their covert observation. Two of them kept together and exchanged occasional words. The third, a narrow-featured man, stood a little distance further off.
    ‘Was it this split that caused the row … the one you had at the opening, yesterday?’
    ‘What else, my dear fellow? It was a deplorable piece of business.’
    ‘But it