The Woman Who Heard Color by Kelly Jones

not have thought of anything she would rather do.
    The next afternoon, per Herr Fleischmann’s instructions, Hanna walked to the gallery on Theatinerstrasse. Herr Fleischmann was not there, but his assistant, Herr Engle, whom she had never formally met, but who had come to the house on occasion, greeted her warmly and said that he was expecting her and had a list of tasks for her to complete.
    As she learned over the next several days, she was, indeed, not to become Herr Fleischmann without some work. Her duties were much like those she had been assigned at the Fleischmann home when she first arrived in Munich. She was little more than the cleaning lady—dusting frames, straightening up in the back room where frames were assembled, sweeping the carpet, preparing tea and coffee in the small kitchen. But, oh, just to be at the gallery each day, to see and hear the wonderful colors, to witness the comings and goings of both the art and the patrons. Artists came in, some to gaze, others to deliver paintings, to talk with Herr Fleischmann. Customers and collectors sat to discuss a purchase, sipping coffee, partaking of little pastries.
    Though her contact with the customers was limited to making them comfortable, offering coffee or tea, she observed carefully as they came in and out of the gallery. She began to see how the patrons’ tastes were different, which particular pieces they might favor, who preferred which artists, and how each artist had his own style.
    She learned quickly, through overheard conversations, those who were truly in a position to buy, those who had the greatest resources. The banker, Herr Ostner; the factory owner, Herr Hummel; the brewer, Herr Adelmann. They were looking to the future, as most astute businessmen, purchasing works to adorn their mansions, their country homes, to show them off, to display their good taste, to offer evidence that they had money enough to hang it on the wall for guests to admire. But also to possess works that would one day be sought by others. The rich, Hanna soon learned, intended only to become richer. Art was art, but also a business. And there was a profit to be made.
    Each morning she attended her mistress at home, then left for the gallery where she spent the afternoons. At night, in that hazy, uncertain time before slumber, she constructed her own dreams. Someday, she would become an art dealer herself. She would travel all over Europe, discovering new talent. She would meet with important clients. She would be the most famous and the most wealthy art dealer in all of Germany.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Hanna
    Paris and Munich
March–April 1901
     
    Frau Fleischmann was feeling exceptionally well. The weather was beautiful, as if Paris had just awakened from a long winter slumber. The rain and wind they had expected had been pushed aside by bright sunny days, and an early budding was beginning to color the dark skeletal trees lining the boulevards, a melody skipping along the branches.
    They visited the fashion houses, as Helene was always interested in the latest designs. Before leaving for France, they had pored over the magazines and catalogues of Callot Sœurs, Raudnitz, Jacques Doucet, and now in Paris, they spent several days placing orders with the designers on the most elegant streets in the city.
    With Herr Fleischmann, they went to the Louvre.
    “This is what you must learn,” Herr Fleischmann said as they strolled through the rooms displaying the Greek sculptures, then the Italian Renaissance paintings. “Always we must go back to the classical art. We must study the past to approach the future.”
    They visited private studios, young artists who had yet to make names for themselves, and exhibitions in the city, particularly those that had been recommended by the many Parisian dealers with whom Herr Fleischmann kept in touch from Munich. There was a friendly sense of camaraderie as well as competition among the dealers, as Hanna learned when she attended