Chapter 498 - 242: Volume 1 [The Little Prince] _2
Candlelight, Athena, cypress wood—even though I knew nothing about the great Austrian Baroque painter Paul Troger who painted this mural when I was five years old, I understood that this was art.
Austria has a typical temperate broadleaf forest climate.
In mid to late March, the average temperature in Glietz City is only a few degrees.
Anna was wearing a light brown knitted coat with a dark pink soft hat, sitting quietly in a wheelchair.
In front of her was the commemorative bronze sculpture of her great-great-great-grandfather, the founder of Oil Painting Magazine, Old Count Ilana.
The people of Glietz City like the Ilyena family.
In the early 20th century, within a month of the Old Count’s passing, they spontaneously raised 12,000 Austrian Crowns.
The city government hired the then German Munich sculpture master M. Keburland to cast this magnificent sculpture, 2.7 meters high, and placed it in front of the Oil Painting Magazine’s door, allowing the Old Count to remain forever with the citizens who loved him.
Today is the formal time for the shareholder meeting regarding Krug Brothers Bank’s acquisition of shares in Oil Painting Magazine.
The meeting location is set on the top floor of the magazine’s headquarters.
As the largest individual shareholder at present, Anna had arrived at the magazine building early but did not rush upstairs.
The girl had been sitting in front of her ancestor’s sculpture for a while.
Her gaze fell on the engraved plaque below the sculpture, warm and profound, revealing no sadness or restlessness, just calmness, as calm as a deep abyss.
Anna raised her hand, her fingertips sliding over the engraved plaque of the bronze sculpture, feeling the tactile undulations beneath her fingers.
"So, this is art."
The girl slowly repeated a message left many years ago by the Old Count on the frontispiece of the first issue of Oil Painting Magazine.
She tried to imagine the solemn, sacred feeling her ancestor experienced 150 years ago on that snowy Christmas night, standing under the dome of Melk Cathedral, watching Athena driving the Lion Chariot sweeping across the sea of clouds.
"Over a hundred years have passed since then."
The bronze sculpture in front of her was like a metaphor for the uncertainty of rise and fall.
It quietly witnessed the rise and split of the Empire, the German cavalry shattering all of Europe, the apocalyptic standoff of the Cold War.
No matter how politicians stirred the storms of the world, or how the iron-gray clouds of war pressed down on people’s hearts, making it hard to breathe.
The Ilyena family still quietly pursued their art studies in this Baroque-style old office building with its red walls and blue roof, like recluses.
Just like that flash of bright color in a black-and-white film.
Art and poetry are the flames of hope burning in people’s hearts.
The ancient Greek philosophers said, as long as there is still one person in the world willing to talk about the beauty of the soul of art, the divine punishment of the apocalypse will not descend, and the glory of humanity will persist.
Even during wartime,
the citizens of Glietz City held a mysterious belief that as long as a member of the Ilyena family was still working in that building, time seemed to be frozen.
The sky won’t fall, and life can continue.
But today,
the founder of Oil Painting Magazine, who endured the great changes of the long 19th century, withstood the collapse of the Austria-Hungary, and overcame NC Germany’s suppression of decadent art,
ultimately lost to the financial tide of the new era, and is to be completely removed from the magazine’s management.
The sky turned blueish-green, the wind somewhat desolate.
In the distance, the street orchestra unusually played Tchaikovsky’s Pathétique Symphony.
The sound of the orchestra came through the wind, with a layer of melancholy pervading the air.
"Woof woof." The hound barked softly twice.
August also came along today.
The Springer Spaniel is a breed full of vitality outdoors.
Besides sleeping, they often spend 6 to 8 hours a day getting their energy out.
Anna’s beloved dog, perhaps due to age or understanding the girl’s mood,
neither ran off to chase butterflies nor tried to playfully intimidate other dogs.
It lay obediently at the girl’s feet, occasionally gently licking Anna’s ankle for comfort with its tongue.
"Hey, if possible, please ask the gentlemen to change to a more lively tune. The Ilyena family is not a loser, nor does it need a sorrowful melody as a funeral dirge."
Anna rested her hand on August’s furry head, gently commanded.
The young woman’s voice was light, dissipating into the wind as soon as she spoke.
But Miss Ilina’s will was promptly fulfilled without compromise.
The secretary standing by in a gray professional suit took out a blue 100 Euro banknote from a pocket wallet.
The secretary walked over.
She folded the bill, bowed, and placed it in a black tall hat in front of the street band, saying something softly.
A few seconds later,
Tchaikovsky’s music stopped, replaced by the lively notes of The Blue Danube’s prelude streaming from the violin strings.
It was created during wartime, yet it represents a beautiful meaning, like the dawn piercing the darkness.
Regardless of whether the audience is Austrian, Hungarian, or from Poland or Slovakia, any of the former Austria-Hungary’s principal nationalities can find elements of their own ethnicity in this Strauss waltz.