like that?, it doesn’t make
sense. The Copyist put down his brush and cleaned his hands on a rag. My dear friend, he said,
life is strange and strange things happen in life, besides the painting itself is strange and
causes strange things to happen. He took a drink of water from the plastic bottle he’d
placed at the foot of the easel and said: I’ve worked really hard today, I can afford to
take a break and have a bit of a chat, you know this painting, are you a critic? No, I said,
just an amateur, I’ve known this painting for years though, there was a time when I used
to come and see it every week, it fascinates me. I’ve been looking at this painting for
ten years, said the Copyist, and working on it for ten years. Really?, I said, ten years is a
long time, and what have you done in those ten years? I’ve painted details, said the
Copyist, I’ve spent ten years painting details. It really is strange, I said, forgive me
but I do find it strange. The Copyist shook his head. So do I, he said, the whole story
started ten years ago, at the time I was working at the Town Hall, in an administrative job,
but I did a course at the School of Fine Arts and I always liked painting, I mean, I liked it
but I had nothing to paint, I had no inspiration, and inspiration is fundamental to painting.
It certainly is, I agreed, without inspiration painting is nothing, the same with the other
arts. Well, anyway, said the Copyist, since I had no inspiration but enjoyed painting, I used
to come to this museum every Sunday and amuse myself by copying one of the pictures here. He
took another swallow of water and went on: One Sunday I set to painting a detail from the
Bosch, it was a joke really, it could have been anything, but because I like fish I chose the
ray in the central panel, just above the
gryllos
, see?
Gryllos
?, I asked, what does that mean? That’s what the torso-less creatures
Bosch painted are called, said the Copyist, it’s an old name that was rediscovered by
modern critics like Baltrusaitis, but in fact it’s a name that dates from Antiquity, it
was Antiphilus who coined the word, because he used to paint creatures like that, creatures
without a torso, just a head and arms. The Copyist sat down on the tiny folding seat in front
of the painting and said: I’m tired. Then he took out a cigarette and lit it. Joaquim
has closed the room now, he said, and I could really do with a cigarette. What happened next?,
I asked, you were telling me about the Sunday you painted the ray. Right, he said, I started
painting it partly as a joke and partly because I had an idea I could sell it to a restaurant,
I’d occasionally sold paintings of fish to A Fortaleza, perhaps you know it, it’s
a restaurant in Cascais, it does Portuguese and international cuisine, and it has a splendid
panoramic view over the bay, I still do the odd painting for them, but much less often now,
anyway, it’s a fabulous restaurant, they serve a steamed lobster which is out of this
world, if you ever go to Cascais make sure you go there. He took a card out of his pocket and
gave it to me, it was a card from the restaurant. It’s closed on Wednesdays, he added. I
looked at the card and asked: Anyway, what about this ray you were painting? Well, he said, I
was painting the ray and I’d nearly finished it, it had turned out really well and I was
just folding up my easel, when a foreign gentleman who’d been watching me work, came
over and said to me in Portuguese: I want to buy your painting, I’ll pay you in dollars.
I looked at him and I said: I’m sorry, but this painting is for a restaurant in Cascais.
I’m
very sorry, he said, but this painting is going to my ranch in Texas, my
name’s Francis Jeff Silver and I have a ranch in Texas the size of Lisbon, I have a
house without a single painting in it and I’m mad about Bosch, I want that painting for
my house. The
sense. The Copyist put down his brush and cleaned his hands on a rag. My dear friend, he said,
life is strange and strange things happen in life, besides the painting itself is strange and
causes strange things to happen. He took a drink of water from the plastic bottle he’d
placed at the foot of the easel and said: I’ve worked really hard today, I can afford to
take a break and have a bit of a chat, you know this painting, are you a critic? No, I said,
just an amateur, I’ve known this painting for years though, there was a time when I used
to come and see it every week, it fascinates me. I’ve been looking at this painting for
ten years, said the Copyist, and working on it for ten years. Really?, I said, ten years is a
long time, and what have you done in those ten years? I’ve painted details, said the
Copyist, I’ve spent ten years painting details. It really is strange, I said, forgive me
but I do find it strange. The Copyist shook his head. So do I, he said, the whole story
started ten years ago, at the time I was working at the Town Hall, in an administrative job,
but I did a course at the School of Fine Arts and I always liked painting, I mean, I liked it
but I had nothing to paint, I had no inspiration, and inspiration is fundamental to painting.
It certainly is, I agreed, without inspiration painting is nothing, the same with the other
arts. Well, anyway, said the Copyist, since I had no inspiration but enjoyed painting, I used
to come to this museum every Sunday and amuse myself by copying one of the pictures here. He
took another swallow of water and went on: One Sunday I set to painting a detail from the
Bosch, it was a joke really, it could have been anything, but because I like fish I chose the
ray in the central panel, just above the
gryllos
, see?
Gryllos
?, I asked, what does that mean? That’s what the torso-less creatures
Bosch painted are called, said the Copyist, it’s an old name that was rediscovered by
modern critics like Baltrusaitis, but in fact it’s a name that dates from Antiquity, it
was Antiphilus who coined the word, because he used to paint creatures like that, creatures
without a torso, just a head and arms. The Copyist sat down on the tiny folding seat in front
of the painting and said: I’m tired. Then he took out a cigarette and lit it. Joaquim
has closed the room now, he said, and I could really do with a cigarette. What happened next?,
I asked, you were telling me about the Sunday you painted the ray. Right, he said, I started
painting it partly as a joke and partly because I had an idea I could sell it to a restaurant,
I’d occasionally sold paintings of fish to A Fortaleza, perhaps you know it, it’s
a restaurant in Cascais, it does Portuguese and international cuisine, and it has a splendid
panoramic view over the bay, I still do the odd painting for them, but much less often now,
anyway, it’s a fabulous restaurant, they serve a steamed lobster which is out of this
world, if you ever go to Cascais make sure you go there. He took a card out of his pocket and
gave it to me, it was a card from the restaurant. It’s closed on Wednesdays, he added. I
looked at the card and asked: Anyway, what about this ray you were painting? Well, he said, I
was painting the ray and I’d nearly finished it, it had turned out really well and I was
just folding up my easel, when a foreign gentleman who’d been watching me work, came
over and said to me in Portuguese: I want to buy your painting, I’ll pay you in dollars.
I looked at him and I said: I’m sorry, but this painting is for a restaurant in Cascais.
I’m
very sorry, he said, but this painting is going to my ranch in Texas, my
name’s Francis Jeff Silver and I have a ranch in Texas the size of Lisbon, I have a
house without a single painting in it and I’m mad about Bosch, I want that painting for
my house. The
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