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Antonio Pessoa - Amsterdam - the fine arts swindle - Peter van Dijk these days was watching Antonio Pessoa coming in and going out obviously enthusiastic about everything but Fine Arts. His dutch friend besides not being at all able to understand,let... more
Reviewed by ART-X-PRESS Oct 14 2006, 09:51am ( 1 review ) • photobucket.com
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Rated by ART-X-PRESS on Oct 14 2006, 9:51am
Antonio Pessoa - Amsterdam - the fine arts swindle - Peter van Dijk these days was watching Antonio Pessoa coming in and going out obviously enthusiastic about everything but Fine Arts. His dutch friend besides not being at all able to understand,let alone digest his behaviour, definitely wasn't accepting the arrogant indolance of someone so talented for arts and yet so immaturely driven by primitive-primary spontaneous impulsions and childish ephemeral infatuations. A few times he actually tryed to talk him back down to reason going to considerable trouble by ensure him observance of rules,mainly just with the particular purpose to make the artist admit once and for all he was indeed about to cross the line of the reasonable and about to jump over the edge. There were twenty oils on canvas hanging on the walls,like ghost spectrums of the past,dusty,silent and sullen,menacing visions brooding over his head all day long. Antonio Pessoa's supernatural powers were by now a dead legend,no more oil colorful charming incantations by the hands of a talented early rising hard working artist,the magical spell was broken and the illusory feats were now seen as an obnoxious swindle illustration. Face-saving was definitely out of question,now that the compromise was adulterated,going on keeping maintaining dignity or prestige would be a useless and pointless fake. The valuable ingredients of their relationship were being corrupted by the city itself.The lively Amsterdam's night life and its impure substances were taking his artist away from the productive dimension where he indeed did belong. Antonio Pessoa's recklessness was leading him along a very winding road and all Peter could possibly do right now was sit quietly and call up memories of the artist's golden days. His way of thinking was no longer reconcilable with the talented young man's perfunctory performance now. The recapitulation of the past was rather painful while the blind rebel one wasn't giving any signs of willing to even consider the lost at stake. It was a sad situation getting more and more absurd and it looked as if there was no way they could talk it over anymore. Those were the last days of Peter and Antonio Pessoa together,as Art lovers,as partners,as friends. Jacob Kotsky
