can't compete with Sichuan seasonings, the reds overwhelm the subtle flavors of the nonspicy dishes, and the Rieslings are sometimes just too sweet for anything but fortune cookies."
Lindsay laughed.
"Have you tried one of the Merlots coming out of California?" he asked, smiling in return. "Lighter than Cabernet, more interesting than Beaujolais." He signaled a waiter. "Let's experiment."
Lindsay was so grateful to have the conversation shifted away from her past that she didn't notice Catlin had avoided answering any personal questions about his own past. Eagerly she entered into a discussion of the possibilities of various wines when drunk with various international cuisines. By the time the discussion shifted to Chinese bronzes, Lindsay was relaxed again, enjoying the company of the man with amber eyes and a very quick mind.
"White told me that you had never made a mistake when it came to sniffing out fraudulent bronzes," Catlin said, not specifying which of the three White males had praised Lindsay.
"He exaggerates," she said, smiling. "I've made mistakes. Without the help of a highly sophisticated laboratory, it's very hard to spot a modern copy of an ancient bronze. Bronze art isn't like painting. If the craftsman is exquisitely precise literally an artist at his work a bronze copy can have almost the same vitality as the original."
"But it won't be exactly the same?"
Lindsay hesitated. "I've never seen a copy that had the same sheer presence as an original. Or if I did," she added honestly, "I didn't recognize it as a copy. Fortunately, most forgers have neither the patience, the tools, the knowledge nor the talent to do a really top-notch job of copying. Also, when outright fraud is the object, the tendency is to copy the larger, more expensive pieces. Those are also the most famous bronzes. Any knowledgeable collector being offered a bargain bronze will check it very carefully against existing catalogs, or pay someone like me to vet the purchase for him."
"And the unknowledgeable collectors?" asked Catlin.
"Have no business buying any kind of art." Lindsay hesitated and frowned slightly. "That's harsh, but it's true. The idea that great art can be found at bargain prices is just plain naive, and any art dealer who tells you otherwise doesn't have your best interests at heart. If the piece he's pushing were such a fantastic bargain, the dealer would buy it himself and resell at a profit. After all, that's the way legitimate dealers make a living. And the dealer who protests that he'd buy the piece himself, but his inventory is full or you're such a swell friend that he wants to let you in on a good thing well, when you hear those words, grab your wallet and ran like hell. The dealer has seen you coming, and you have sucker written all over you."
In the silence Lindsay heard her own words echo. She smiled in self-mockery. "You pushed the wrong button, I'm afraid. I have very little patience with art scams or the people who
make them possible. And that includes greedy buyers as well as greedy sellers."
"You can't con an honest man?" suggested Catlin, smiling.
"Exactly."
Catlin nodded, but he wasn't wholly satisfied with Lindsay's explanation of her strong feelings on the subject. He doubted that the question of fraud and deception was that simple for Lindsay. Something other than the expert's contempt for the inexpert was driving her. She wasn't that kind of intellectual snob. If she were, she would have condescended to O'Donnel even while she answered his ingenuous questions about the seventeen bronzes. But she hadn't condescended. She had answered carefully, trying to share her love of the bronzes as well as her knowledge of them. It had been the same when Catlin had thought aloud about the Shang bowl, telling Lindsay things about art and culture that she already knew. She hadn't been haughty or protective of her superior knowledge; she had smiled and told him what a pleasure it was to meet
Lindsay laughed.
"Have you tried one of the Merlots coming out of California?" he asked, smiling in return. "Lighter than Cabernet, more interesting than Beaujolais." He signaled a waiter. "Let's experiment."
Lindsay was so grateful to have the conversation shifted away from her past that she didn't notice Catlin had avoided answering any personal questions about his own past. Eagerly she entered into a discussion of the possibilities of various wines when drunk with various international cuisines. By the time the discussion shifted to Chinese bronzes, Lindsay was relaxed again, enjoying the company of the man with amber eyes and a very quick mind.
"White told me that you had never made a mistake when it came to sniffing out fraudulent bronzes," Catlin said, not specifying which of the three White males had praised Lindsay.
"He exaggerates," she said, smiling. "I've made mistakes. Without the help of a highly sophisticated laboratory, it's very hard to spot a modern copy of an ancient bronze. Bronze art isn't like painting. If the craftsman is exquisitely precise literally an artist at his work a bronze copy can have almost the same vitality as the original."
"But it won't be exactly the same?"
Lindsay hesitated. "I've never seen a copy that had the same sheer presence as an original. Or if I did," she added honestly, "I didn't recognize it as a copy. Fortunately, most forgers have neither the patience, the tools, the knowledge nor the talent to do a really top-notch job of copying. Also, when outright fraud is the object, the tendency is to copy the larger, more expensive pieces. Those are also the most famous bronzes. Any knowledgeable collector being offered a bargain bronze will check it very carefully against existing catalogs, or pay someone like me to vet the purchase for him."
"And the unknowledgeable collectors?" asked Catlin.
"Have no business buying any kind of art." Lindsay hesitated and frowned slightly. "That's harsh, but it's true. The idea that great art can be found at bargain prices is just plain naive, and any art dealer who tells you otherwise doesn't have your best interests at heart. If the piece he's pushing were such a fantastic bargain, the dealer would buy it himself and resell at a profit. After all, that's the way legitimate dealers make a living. And the dealer who protests that he'd buy the piece himself, but his inventory is full or you're such a swell friend that he wants to let you in on a good thing well, when you hear those words, grab your wallet and ran like hell. The dealer has seen you coming, and you have sucker written all over you."
In the silence Lindsay heard her own words echo. She smiled in self-mockery. "You pushed the wrong button, I'm afraid. I have very little patience with art scams or the people who
make them possible. And that includes greedy buyers as well as greedy sellers."
"You can't con an honest man?" suggested Catlin, smiling.
"Exactly."
Catlin nodded, but he wasn't wholly satisfied with Lindsay's explanation of her strong feelings on the subject. He doubted that the question of fraud and deception was that simple for Lindsay. Something other than the expert's contempt for the inexpert was driving her. She wasn't that kind of intellectual snob. If she were, she would have condescended to O'Donnel even while she answered his ingenuous questions about the seventeen bronzes. But she hadn't condescended. She had answered carefully, trying to share her love of the bronzes as well as her knowledge of them. It had been the same when Catlin had thought aloud about the Shang bowl, telling Lindsay things about art and culture that she already knew. She hadn't been haughty or protective of her superior knowledge; she had smiled and told him what a pleasure it was to meet
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