A Creation of a Brilliant Young Artist

Sławek felt his heart beat faster. It was the first time he had to show his sculpture to an expert, and although he never thought of himself as an artist and never fantasized about his own exhibitions, he felt uneasy about the evaluation awaiting his work. But if Kowalski said that this sculpture could quickly bring him money, he should pull himself together and act like a man.

In one move he pulled off the sheet and revealed Mary holding her dead son in her arms.

The composition of the sculpture was classic, but the figures themselves were presented quite unusual. Mary was especially endearing, who dressed in flowing scarves had something exceptionally modern in her face, and the scarves and hair themselves gave the impression that a strong wind was about to blow them away. There were tears in her unnaturally large eyes, carved so precisely that they seemed real, turned to wood. But her face expressed not despair, but infinite motherly love.

Mary was carved to perfection. Completely finished. Captivatingly beautiful, full of emotion and radiance. Her hands embracing her son's body, the folds of her dress - everything was perfect. It was Jesus who still required work, although it was already clear that he too was well thought out. The dead inertia of his body was striking, contrasting with his robes moving in the wind.

Kowalski pursed his lips carefully examining the smallest details of his pieta.

"Finish this sculpture and I'll give you thirty thousand for it."

"Thirty..." he stammered, unable to believe his ears. "Thirty ..."

"Thirty thousand. I have an Emirati buyer who will be delighted with it. He is very rich and likes to spend money. I'm sure he'll pay that much. Even…"

"Even ...?"

"I want to see more of your works, Mr. Sławomir."

"But I don't have anything that big."

"Does not matter. Size is not always important."

"And I don't actually do sacred art."

"No?" Henryk Kowalski was clearly surprised.

"No. My work is ... Not very good for show. I only do them to train my arm ... "

"You don't need money?" Konrad interjected.

"I need, but ..."

"Listen," Kowalski said very gently. "I have been working with people of art since I was a child and I know that their works are sometimes very intimate. The artist often puts his emotions, heart and soul into them and is afraid of revealing them. He is afraid of misunderstanding, even of being ridiculous. It is completely natural. However, there are people who specialize in looking at their art from a slightly different angle. People who not only do not laugh, but also help this art reach the audience that will be able to appreciate it in the best way. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Not everyone likes the same, and you match art and client."

"Exactly, no piece to the client, only piece and client. I know what might interest someone and I try to get the art into the right hands that appreciate it. Sometimes I also try to make the seemingly unwanted things also get properly appreciated."

"Like my grandfather's sculptures?"

"Yes. I find them very beautiful, unfortunately the current trends are not kind to this type of style. Your sculpture represents something new and intriguing. This pieta was not created overnight and it cannot be your first work. You must have been doing something smaller, maybe sitting in the studio with your grandfather in the evenings. Eventually, your grandfather suggested that you do something a little bigger. Just for the pleasure ..."

"How do you know all this?" Sławek was surprised by the accuracy with which the art dealer described what was happening in the Domejczuk house.

"I was guessing," Henryk Kowalski smiled. "Well, not really. This is just a typical pattern of transferring interest in art from generation to generation. Please, I want to see your sculptures that have brought your talent to the level represented by the pieta."

Sławek blushed to the tips of his ears.

"But these sculptures are really ..."

"Mr. Sławomir, this is what art is all about."

"Okay," Sławek gave up "but I don't want any comments."

"I do not promise anything" Kowalski thanked him with a smile.

"Wait in the kitchen," he ordered. "I'm only doing it because I really need the money, even though I know it won't sell ..." he muttered as he approached the exit.

"Good to see you, Konrad. What is up?" Kowalski asked when they reached the other room.

"All good. Mom is fine too."

"Good to hear."

"Mr. Henryk, although I sent you a photo of pieta, because I like it, I am not an expert. Is she really that good?"

"Are you friends with this boy?"

"We met today."

"Oh!"

"He has a debt to my father inherited from his grandfather. I want to help him somehow."

"Ah, yes" Kowalski began to look at him closely, which made Konrad feel awkward. "Well," the art dealer continued, "the pieta itself is beautiful. The boy seems to create his own realistic impressionist style with the addition of something completely new. Did you notice that Mary has an earring in her ear?"

"No," Konrad Skalski admitted, surprised.

"The earring is modern. Her brow bone is thin and her mouth is very expressive. It almost feels like she's wearing makeup. Don't you think?"

"Yes, I noticed that. So it is both realistic and allegorical. It could be a woman of our time feeling the same pain as the Madonna over her son's corpse. Its features are individual, yet it represents universalism."

"Exactly. Your journeys and courses were not in vain." Kowalski nodded appreciatively. "And you have an eye after your mother."

"And through the combination of clothes from the past and modern jewelry, it shows a certain timelessness" Konrad added pleasantly flattered with praise.

"Exactly. This sculpture is a creation of a brilliant young artist with great potential. Just don't tell him this, we don't want his head to freak out right from the start."