Ramsey's Gallery of Fine Art
The two story ice blue victorian replica sat on the artsy end of the strip. Amid a few antique shops, one Asian artifact gallery and several other art galleries. The whole structure was the art gallery. Inside there were two main downstairs rooms, painted in tastefull creamy gray and lit appropriatly, at the artwork. There was one sweeping staircase that led upstairs to three private showing rooms and an office. Each floor had restrooms, 3 stalls each, done with a pale blue and cream floral paper and cream beadboard.
In the downstairs there was the sunset room, with soft periwinkle fainting couches and even a few arm chairs. The other downstairs room displayed the sunrises with benches of pale pine with soft natural toned silk cusions. There were small tables in both rooms, in the pale pine, discretely placed about with glass tops for people to place their drinks upon.
The stairwell held a reception area, coat closet and fine silk wall coverings in an ancient smokey gray. There was a pine bench and blue armchair as well as some sculpture set on the blocks placed about or attached to the wall for smaller pieces.
Up the stairs lead to a small hallway in the same silken gray that lead to six doors in a small landing area. The bathrooms were clearly marked but the other rooms had doors flung wide open for the event. One housed the darker paintings on its eggplant toned walls. The dark grey striped room held barely a dozen moonscapes. The last showing room held scenes from Nachton on its creamy walls with beadboard base. The office was just that, desk, chairs and a few tables.
Plants were strewn about and hanging from ceilings but never obscuring the paintings. The light pine floors gleamed with polish but the stairs had a pale gray carpet runner.
There was a black velvet rope cordoning off the gallery but the sign outside proudly announced the Galla Black Tie event of the Opening of the Showing of Nyra McGurn at 7:30pm.
Sighing, she rubbed her temples.
Finally he spied a trio that looked about ready to leave. Thinking that watching people meet her and then leave would illistrate his point, Bertrand walked up to the teen boy dressed in leather pants.
"Good evening! Good evening! Have you met the artist yet?" He put his salesman smile away and brought out the welcoming host demeanor.
He loves it when I go on about Powaqa. And even adding a flux capacitor can't possibly be as hard as putting in the new exhaust was.
She pointed at one of the paintings, squinting to read the card from a distance. Bet that's the one she was talking about...yep, that's Panic. She tilted her head to one side. It was funny, she thought, how the more chaotic paintings mellowed her out, while the more calm works tended to just make her feel like she should be doing something useful. She supposed relaxing just wasn't her style.
She giggled at Jan's accent, remembering her earlier musings.
Think we've been here too long if you're going to start talking like that! She shrugged a little and continued. I can be myself anywhere. Anywhere I don't get thrown out of, that is.
It was perfectly true; she would have been quite comfortable showing up to this event in her usual tee shirt and jeans, and only dressed within the realm of propriety because she thought it would be a kick. And except for the discomfort of the shoes, it had been sort of neat.
The comment about the local dive stuck out to her though. While she was fine with going there, and actually half hoped he was serious, there was a hint that he felt in some way slighted. There was a lot to Jan, though, and she wasn't sure of what was going through his head.
But yeah, I'm all for finding a place to hang out. Dressed like this, we could probably get into Club Eternity if we wanted to. Of course, I'd be riding on the coat tails of you guy's respectability, but I don't mind if you don't.
She turned around sharply as the suit from earlier greeted her brother. Ah, perhaps he had been recognized at last. While she didn't know where Amberelle ranked on the social spectrum, and her own place was nonexistent, Jan had a good name for himself in this town, even looking as young as he did. Maybe the guy had only just seen him, squeezed as he was between herself and Amberelle. She gave the guy a grin and decided to see what good behavior would bring.
"Only briefly, we were discussing one of the paintings that we took an interest in." He snorted inwardly, no doubt this guy expected that they wouldn't have the ability to buy it and was saying.."I just bet you were" in his head.
He'd seen his type before while a part of the court life. Those who decide who to schmooze with based on how they appeared. Of course in those days, in the chorus at least, he was once one of the pet boys of the Emperor's new choir and so was well dressed and paraded around with the rest of the boys, people mistook them all for some well bred children of some minor nobility, their sponsor had made certain they knew how to behave lest they embarrass him in front of the Maximilian I. Who knew he was a whore's unwanted orphan? No one , until the chorus had no more use for his voice.
"Perhaps you could help us with a painting?" He turned to look at Amberelle.
"It would be my pleasure! Which painting are you interested in?"
Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a card, pen and brocure, holding them out for the young man to take he also stuck out his hand to shake.
"Bertrand Hirsch, Manager of the Gallery, at your service."
"I personally and interested in "Serenity." He would rather look at a moonscape that reminded him of the forests of home instead of a sunrise or sunset to be a constant reminder of what he's not going to see again but that was Jan. He wanted to look at something calm, a torrent of emotional expression came out through his music and sometimes he'd like to be able to take a break from all that.
"I believe my friend had one she was interested in as well." Jan nodded his head to Amberelle.
Taking the man's hand, he shook it politely. "Jan Yager, and my sister here, is Nova. " He turned to Nova with a coy smile.
"I'm just here to look good and get free drinks, so my business is pretty much done."Â? She jerked her thumb in Jan's direction. "My dear brother got all the artistic genes in the family. Cool show though."Â?
She had, in fact, enjoyed the art much more than she had thought she would, though part of that probably had something to do with the fun company. Still, high culture wasn't the tedium she had expected it to be.
Waving his arm, as expresively as possible in a crowded room, he indicated the way to where Ms. McGurn was.
"Which painting were you interested in purchasing Miss?" Bertrand asked the pretty woman in the very nice dress.
It is downstairs, called 'Stormy' I believe. She glanced down at her brochure and nodded an affirmative. And also I think I would like one of these, 'Sleepless'. Oui, those should be sufficient. If we could make the arrangements..? I think we would like to be on our way soon.
She glanced at the siblings, to confirm the statement. I still need to show you my baby Nova. She's parked just outside. Who knows, the night is young. Maybe we could go have a little race. That idea made the blonde grin.
((OOC Soooo sorry about today guys, I spent all day waiting on the installer for our cable / broadband.. And he never showed. So now we wait until the 3rd /sigh ))
"Oh dear lord, you're encouraging her!"
He sighed dramatically and wondered whether he would want to be a passenger in this activity or stand safely off to the side and watch. It wasn't that he minded racing, Jan just wasn't certain he wanted to be in the car and not driving it.
"Shall we go chat while Bertrand here takes a look at the paintings for us?" He recalled the manager's suggestion that they go speak with the artist and Jan thought she could use the company. While that was something of an egotistical thought on his part, Jan looked around the room and decided that anyone willing to say something in plain English and not in large words designed to bore and impress would be appreciated as decent conversation companions. It was not really huge competition then to be proud of besting and was, perhaps, a public service to spare the artist from being bored to death right here at her own showing and therefore never produce another painting. They should be given medals for their charity! or at least thanked for their kindness.. He smirked inwardly amused at the absurdity of his own thoughts and moved through the crowd towards the woman they had spoke to briefly before.
"I should like you to know that the artwork upstairs was astounding and I managed to keep my sister from climbing anything while we were there." He grinned and gave Nova an elbow in the ribs in return for the one she gave him earlier.
((OOC: Its all good, we didn't do anything too embarrassing while you were gone. At least I don't think so. ))
I'm down for that, wouldn't mind knowing what I'm up against though. There's a nice strip of road for drag racing up by the quickie mart.
She smirked at Jan. As if I need encouragement.
She followed the party over to, if the little cards next to the paintings were any indication, Nyra McGurn. Feeling a little stupid about the climbing remark, she looked innocently upward at Jan's comment.
Yeah, uh, I was totally kidding about that. Just saying it looked like fun.
Seeing a server walk by with a tray full of wine glasses, she took the opportunity to set her whiskey tumbler on one edge. For some reason the server gave her a weird look, and she returned it before turning back to the conversation.
She found herself somewhat curious about the artist; while the Nachton artwork was neat, it looked like there was some west coast in a few of the paintings, maybe some southwest in the pottery. Not that she really knew what she was talking about, but you didn't grow up on a Hopi reservation without seeing some pottery, and even she didn't miss the difference between the Pacific and the Atlantic.
So you get out West much?
Connie couldn't really remember. The feeling of longing resurged in her as she looked at the pictures of the sunrises.
The sailing ships surrounded by the sun's luminous rays at sunrise dropped her into a nostalgic frame of mind.
...
And she shook her head to shake off the memory of what had been her first day as a vampire. Involuntarily her right arm and leg twitched and she pushed that train of thought away.
She made a mark next to "Sailing" under Sunrises on the card, and handed it to Bertrand as he walked away from Nyra and a trio of rather well dressed, attractive young folk. Connie kept her distance, her attention on Nyra, but feigning to look at the paintings.
Glancing at her pottery she wondered if her origins were that obvious. "I am from Oregon actually, so, yes I am out west quite a bit. Is it that obvious?"
She smiled and even chuckled softly at herself for being so naive, of course it must be obvious if the woman asked. She gave a small shrug at things she could not help.
"I am curious actually, I have had many of these people here simply to see and be seen. Have you liked the artwork? So far all the response I have gotten is that it 'Captures the essense of Nachton' whatever that means."
Well, my baby is an Aston Martin DB9, the Volante.. it's a 6 liter V12. I know the stretch you mean, or at least I know of one on the highway near the Mart that's close by the Manor. The blonde grinned mischeviously over at the other two. Or we could play 'Deathrace'. I wonder how many points an old Anantya dustbag would be worth?
She laughed softly at the idea, quite amused. Of course the visual she had was running down her sire at about 90 then stopping, hitting reverse and going for it again. Allowing herself a moment to contemplate it while in the company of Tacharan, well.. she'd come a long way. The freedom of being away from home was quite liberating, she decided.
[i]Reaching the downstairs again, she turned her attention to the petite woman they had met earlier and she returned the woman's warm smile while trying not to chuckle at Jan's ribbing.
Personally, I love your works. You seem to capture quite a bit of emotion in each piece. And yes, somehow you have indeed captured a bit of the city's citizens in your work. Amby smiled to herself at the double meaning that statement had, which was seemingly lost on the sweet and birght woman. I'd love to see your interpretation of the bayous, or the streets of New Orleans.
Reaching behind the nearby bar for a large photo album, covered in tastefull brown leather-like cover. The inside cover had a scrolling forest, spelling out The Artwork of Nyra McGurn in flowers. Flipping pages, over the ones she did in her youth, she got to the pre-college work. Pointing to the left page she held up the books. The three paintings were captured individually and then as a group on a blank white wall. The right page had desertscapes.
"Those three kept me quite flush through college. Was a good commission, but I always thought there was more depth than I had explored at the time. The buyer sent photo's of the scene and I added interpretation."
Smiling she held the book up for them to look or pick up and browse through. "Feel free to look through it. I am more than happy to fill orders if they do not deviate too far from my norm."
It was for them to figure out, he was going to conveniently not be in either car, preferring to be in his own GMC Sierra than in this race with aggressive females. He had his custom sound system and the ability to drive just about anywhere he wanted to go, he could load and unload band equipment from the back and the extended cab seated a few more people than the average truck making it possible to get all 5 band members in at the same time.
He listened to Amberelle and Nyra talk about New Orleans. It was definitely a place rich in imagery for a painter. Jan had enjoyed the music and the atmosphere of the place as a musician's point of view as well.
"Those are wonderful, I think you captured the mood of the place very well especially if you did those simply from photographs. " Thinking of commissions, he shrugged. " I miss Austria from time to time. America is very modern, which is nice I like that but on occasion I miss home."
Jan smiled slightly, he was pretty sure Tacharan weren't supposed to get sentimental about such things and it was probably against some rule somewhere to admit you get homesick.
Most everybody was dressed in their nicest attire and more then most men's yearly salery sparkled from the ears or fingers of nearly every women in the place. He stepped out of his car, the engine still quietly purring and glanced around for the valet. Xerxes shrugged when he noticed there wasn't the service provided and stepped back into his car, easing it into drive and accelerating quickly away from the crowded entrance.
"That should give the yuppies something to think about," he said and he pulled around a corner and found a vacant spot.
He walked back towards the building, straightening his jacket. True, he had dressed well for the event, though he liked to think he always dressed well. He wore a deep red shirt buttoned and covered by a pinstrip black jacket. His pants, also black and pinstriped, gently brushed his shining black leather shoes. He ran a hand through his hair and checked his gleaming watch as he approached the door.
"Good, still early," he said by way of greating to the suited man that obviously worked at the gallery.
That's a good car; I'd certainly like to take a look at it at the very least. You race her often? I'm -certainly- up for that, if Jan here will put up with it.
Nova shrugged and grinned at the artist's reply.
I wouldn't say you were obvious; actually I got the latitude way off, I was thinking you might be from the Southwest, like me. The pottery reminded me of the stuff I'd see on the Mesas growing up. Anyway, I think I can honestly say this is the best art show I've ever been to. She laughed. Seriously though, I liked both the party and the artwork; I was expecting it to be all incomprehensible, but I think you've found a subject that reaches people if I'm any evidence.
Listening to the exchange, Nova tilted her head to look at the photos, interested. She was willing to bet the artist could do something pretty cool with the place she grew up in. She liked the images of Nachton just fine, and the city was home to her, but the desert never totally left a person. Or so she supposed. She was pretty indifferent on visiting home most of the time, but the -feel- of the place called to her in a weird sort of way.
Apparently Jan was thinking similar thoughts about his own home.
Oh, dude, we have to go to Austria sometime. Next time I'm on break. Is that the place where you can smoke weed legally? I mean, not that I would, I was just wondering.
His meandering path eventually led him in a complete tour of the gallery and, despite the audacity of the opening, he was very pleased with the art work. He wondered how many of those in attendance were hear to view the art and how many were here to be viewed. He doubted he would like the ratio and let the thought pass from his mind.
After a moment or two of pleasantries with a couple who lived near to his home, he politely excused himself and inquired where the artist was. The balding man he asked seemed slightly embarrassed and confessed he didn't know what she looked like, but a middle-aged woman dressed in a sparkling red dress overheard and pointed him in the direction of a knot of people, somewhat removed from the rest of the crowd.
Xerxes smiled inwardly at the image of the group, immediately noting the young teen's dress. Xerxes somehow doubted the boy to be as young as he appeared but hardly concerned himself with the thought.
He approched the group quietly and respectfully stood several feet away with his hands crossed in front of him. He didn't want to interrupt or seem invasive but desperately hoped to get a painting or two done especially for him.
C'est magnifique, Miss McGurn. You captured the beauty of the bayous without having been there? That is something, most people can't appreciate the 'swamp' until they've seen it. We'll have to talk sometime about a commission, I'd love to see your interpretation of the French Quarter.
Her eyes drawn back, she studied the trio of paintings in the photograph. They had darkened to a deep honey when she glanced up at Jan as he spoke. 'At least I'm not the only one who gets nostalgic. But, I bet it took him more than a few weeks.' Annoyed at the sentimental streak she seemed to have, the blonde straightened and forced a smile. Flipping through the book she focused on Nova while she glanced at more of Nyra's amazing works.
'Austria.. sounds like a nice place to visit, as long as the old bastard isn't home visiting 'the old country' when I go.' The idea of seeing Europe someday was intriguing, and something she hadn't thought too much about. Filing it away to consider further later, she giggled at Nova.
You're thinking of Amsterdam I think.