Goings on in the Gallery
The lights in the gallery flickered to life at 8am just like they do every day, signalling that another day of people-watching was about to begin. Visitors from all walks of life would peruse the gallery, casually strolling around the exhibition space checking out each and every painting in great detail.
But little did they know that we were observing them too.
From where I had been placed I could practically see the gears turning in their heads as they examined all of my intricacies; my brush strokes, my colours, my possible hidden meanings and even my imperfections. Sometimes they noticed things even I didn’t know about!
It’s a pretty easy life being a painting, just hanging around with my friends all day (pun intended). But if only the visitors knew what happened once the gallery closed.
“What a day!” Mona Lisa exclaimed one day, “three school trips and two tourist groups! Not bad for a Wednesday!”
“Did you see the way that tall handsome American fellow was looking at me?” Girl with Pearl said with a blush and a giggle.
“Yes Girl, we all did” Whistler’s Mother snarked, rolling her eyes.
“But none of you look as majestic as I do!” Napoleon Crossing the Alps boasted.
I just chuckled listening to them bicker, as was my nature as The Laughing Cavalier.
“Speak for yourself. I had my fair share of admirers today too” Frida Carlo’s Self-Portrait said smugly.
“You mean other than yourself?” Whistler’s Mother jibed again, causing the others to snicker and Frida to huff.
“Shhhh! Did you hear that?” Girl suddenly said and everyone fell silent.
“Hear what?” Mona Lisa asked.
After another few beats of silence we heard the soft click of the gallery’s glass door opening.
“Everyone! Places!” I ordered in a panicked stage whisper.
This was most unusual, normally once the lights were off they didn’t come back on until the next day when the staff returned.
We watched with bated breaths as several dark figures crept into the space, their leather boots treading very softly but hurriedly on the wooden floor. Then to my horror they made a beeline for the painting directly opposite to me, Mona Lisa.
It was hard to hear exactly what they were saying but I managed to pick up the words “auction”, “price” and “black market”. All of us looked on in shock as they carefully lifted her off the wall and into a large rectangular black bag. They fiddled with the zips and just before they closed it, the last thing I saw was her frightened face as she mouthed “help”. I had to do something. Anything. Even if it meant breaking my cover.
“Napoleon! Go to Van Gogh’s Bedroom! Use the mobile phone on the table to call the police!” I urgently whispered to the General.
“The what?!” he said in confusion.
“I heard some tourists mention it today, one of those modern day hidden detail things. Apparently it’s just by the blue jug” I told him.
“What in the world-?!”
“Just do it! Now!”
Napoleon hopped off his horse and ran as fast as his little legs could take him through several other paintings to the other side of the exhibition. I couldn’t help but chuckle when I faintly heard some of the conversation.
“Send the calvary at once masseur!” he commanded, “a theft is taking place!”
Suddenly red lights started flashing and a shrill siren tore through the usual silence of the gallery. The figures looked around in a panic until one of them shouted for them to run and the figures sprinted away with Mona Lisa sealed away inside the black bag.
“Oh no! Poor Lisa!” Girl cried once the lights and sirens ceased, “what are they going to do with her?”
“Silly girl was too valuable. She’s probably on her way to some shady oil tycoon by now” Mother said coldly, trying to mask the sadness in her voice.
“Mother! Please! We’ve just witnessed our friend being kidnapped! Have some respect! Frida barked.
“Ladies! Calm yourselves!” Napoleon demanded as he clambered back on his horse.
“He’s right, we’ve done our part. There’s nothing else we can do now” I tried to reassure them, “let’s just hope the police catch those rotten scoundrels”.
That night the gallery felt so much emptier. We felt so powerless. Perhaps life as a painting wasn’t so easy after all.
A few days later, just before the usual opening time, a large red bag was wheeled in on a trolley. The staff unzipped it and to our surprise and delight they lifted out none other than our dear friend Mona Lisa. They worked in tandem to put her back in her rightful place, treating her with the utmost care and attention. The least such precious art deserved. Once she was safely back in place they added the finishing touch by turning on the small lamp above her to show off her historic beauty.
“Welcome back Lisa!” Girl cheered with glee as soon as the staff left.
“Three cheers for the return of DaVinci’s finest painting!” I said jovially and we all joined in giving her three cheers (even Mother).
“Thanks everyone! Oh you would not believe the journey I’ve been on-” Lisa started but stopped as she clocked the first batch of visitors entering, “I’ll tell you later after closing”.
As the glass doors opened once again Lisa winked at me and mouthed “thank you” to which I tipped my hat and boasted an even bigger smile.
