Brain Squeeze Read online

  THE SCULPTOR

  “Giovoni is the best. His attention to detail far surpasses anyone else in the field of fine art. No one has even come close to duplicating his unique style in the four years his art has been on display. Tio has a gift that comes along every few hundred years. He is definitely in the Michangelo-Raphael category.”

  “That is all fine and dandy and I agree Giovoni Tio is an expert at what he does but, his medium leaves much to be desired. His work is way too fragile and there is no way it will endure the years the other great masters’ works do.” Patterson shifted his massive bulk in the leather chair and paused to relight his pipe before continuing. “Plaster of Paris looks well defined and its dull white finish gives an object that richness that only certain rocks can project but, its way too soft. You can nick it if you barely brush your finger over its surface and it always leaves a powdery mess wherever it’s displayed. Come on man this isn’t being realistic to the carved marble statues of the great artists.”

  Brian Templeton stood up brushing imaginary lint from his tweed coat and paced toward the great bay windows. He suddenly turned around and stared directly into his friend’s eyes. “But no one else can do what he can. He creates life with every stroke of his knife. It makes you uneasy to be alone in the same room with one of his figures. His attention to detail is uncanny. I, in my forty years of studying and evaluating art have never seen such lifelike figures, male or female, or even children. He makes them so real looking they look like they are breathing.”

  “All right, I hear what you’re saying but, what happens ten, fifteen, twenty years from now when all his statues crumble in a pile of dust. You know Plaster of Paris won’t last forever. Just moving the statues from one show to another are bound to take its toll on one or two of them and then what do you do. Throw a beautiful statue away because it fell apart. All his works will look like Venus de Milo after awhile. They will all be missing arms and legs. How do you explain that to the art public?”

  “I agree that his art is way too fragile but, his talent is overwhelming. Maybe we can try to talk him into another type of material while his career is at its peak. With his talent he should be able to use anything to create his art. I bet he could carve timber with a chainsaw and make those wildlife statues or carve ice blocks and come out with fantastic designs. I imagine he could even make sand sculptors that would win prizes. His talent is awesome.”

  “Considering we have never seen any other kind of work by him maybe he wouldn’t be able to do such a good job. Most artists have sketches or drawings that they display. We have never seen anything from him. I can’t believe he does his statues from scratch; he must do a preliminary drawing of some sort. I don’t know of anyone, especially anyone with his type of talent that could create a masterpiece on the first try. I’ve never even seen old or broken parts of his work.”

  “Well,” Brian Templeton added, “I know one reason his work never gets broken or damaged. He has a crew that personally attends to his art. They were hand picked by him to be very careful because of the nature of the material. Between each showing they hand pack each statue in its own wooden crate built especially for that piece and they load them separately in their own moving van and do their own driving to each event. I believe they even wrap each piece in cotton and bubble wrap in its crate. I heard Tio was very strict about this and he fired worker after worker until he got just the right combination of people to do the job properly.”

  “That’s not all I hear he gets rid of,” complained Todd Patterson. “He goes through girlfriends and other people he meets constantly. I hear he has a very bad temper and they can only put up with so much abuse coming from him. Isn’t it funny that sometimes the people with the most talent are the hardest ones to live with? On a brighter note, his exhibition will be opening tomorrow morning at the Excalibur Building so I think we should go down there now and watch them unload and set up the exhibit. We should get a chance to speak with Giovoni about his lack of sketches and perhaps mention to him about switching mediums so his work will last for all eternity. By the way we might be immortalized ourselves by him. I hear that all his statues look like girl friends he’s had or people he has known. People say that his memory is so good he can immortalize someone so well by memorizing all their features to the minutest detail.”

  Patterson and Templeton arrived at the Excalibur building and began searching for Giovoni Tio. They were there about fifteen minutes when they ran into the burly Tio on the third floor. He was in animated conversation with one of his workers. “What do you think your doing Bill? You know I’ve told you over and over that this particular piece has to be lighted from the left side. Any other place seems to bring out the wrong shadows. Can’t any of you dumb people get it right?”

  “Listen Giovoni, I’ve about had it with your bullying. Sure the money’s good but, there is only so much that a man can take. I want to keep my dignity but, you sure don’t want me to,” shouted Bill Sandowski. “I had it up to here with your constant complaining. No wonder you can’t keep any people around you. You are a hard case.”

  “Fine,” countered Giovoni Tio. “People like you are a dime a dozen. I can replace you in no time at all. Just get out of my sight. I will send your final check to the employment agency that sent you to me. I sure hope they don’t screw up again.”

  “You’re really a piece of work, aren’t you?” Sandowski yelled on the way to the elevator. “I know you will get yours in the end. Evil people always do.”

  Giovoni glanced around and saw the two art critics and a big smile lit up his face, “Brian, Todd, how are my old friends. Come join me in a tour of my babies. Join me in a glass of fine port, grapes, cheese, anything you want. Anything of mine is yours.”

  “Hello Giovoni,” the two men said in unison. “Sounds like you’ve been having quite a time already today.”

  “Oh, pay no attention to the little people, even though I’m a little surprised with that one. He lasted seven weeks. That’s a lot longer than most. Oh well, there is plenty more where he came from. Come walk with me down stairs. I have something to show you both.”

  The three men descended the elegant stairwell until they arrived on the second floor of the exhibit. Tio led them over to a bright white sheet that was covering an obvious statue. Tio gently grasped the bottom edge of the sheet and turned to face the two friends. “Well gentlemen. Allow me to introduce the newest addition to my collection. May I present Anna?”

  Giovoni pulled the sheet off of the statue and let it flutter to the floor in a big white heap. Both men stared with their mouths open as a beautiful sight met their eyes. The nude figure of Anna was so life-like that tears began welling up in the eyes of both of the men.

  “My god Giovoni that is got to be the most beautiful statue ever created. It is so remarkable in detail. That looks just like your girlfriend. How did you get her to pose for the length of time it must have taken you to sculpt her? It is an amazing piece of work.”

  “Anna had a strong determination. That is why I could get her to pose for so long but, sadly Anna never got to see the finished product. She went back to her home in Romania very rapidly. Apparently her mother began very ill and she rushed home to be by her side.”

  “That is such a shame Giovoni,” replied Brian. “I know she would have loved it.”

  Giovoni shrugged his shoulders and said, “Oh well. Perhaps one day she will come back and” Tio clutched his chest and his face began to turn blue. He staggered backwards and fell hard against his newest sculpture. His massive bulk caused the statue to sway and eventually topple over. The head and one of the arms broke off as it hit the marble floor. An awful stench poured out of the fallen art and it made the two art critics start to gag. Giovoni Tio slumped downward and lay on his back with his blue eyes staring sightless into the ceiling.

  “My god,” yelled Todd. “Giovoni has apparently
had a heart attack but, what is that awful smell?’

  “I think,” softly replied his friend, “we now know why he was such a good artist. His girlfriends and others never left him. The maniac just covered them in Plaster of Paris. That’s why they looked so lifelike. He didn’t create them. He immortalized them in plaster.”