Page 122 - Just Deserts

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“In those days,” said the dealer, adopting a less formal tone now
that Frisko had released his own tension, “épater le bourgeois was
almost a prerequisite to commercial success, paradoxical as that may
seem today. And you have worked it well, alternating outrageous
public displays with private showings of extremely expensive
paintings and sculptures. I have done my homework, you see:
otherwise I would not be sitting here. If an artist’s career—at least
before his demise—may be visualized as a long sweeping curve with
a relatively shorter ascent or descent depending upon the moment of
his recognition, then I would place you at this juncture still on the
rise.”
Frisko digested this revelation while swigging down more coffee
than his gullet could safely contain.
“Urghle. No point in beating around the bush with you, Evian.
You’ve got my modus operandi down pat. I’m riding the crest of a
great synergistic wave of notoriety, as you have perceived. The
performance pieces build up the reputation, which gets the high
prices for the small works, which finance the next grand
manifestation, and so on. Where shall it end? I do not know: to me,
the sky is the limit. Literally. The aesthetic statement now on my
drawing board will be witnessed by millions, if not billions, of people.
And following it, every millionaire, if not every billionaire, will be
clamoring for a Frisko original.” His eyes gleamed madly.
“Oh? Has this new endeavor a name or a completion date?”
Frisko shook his head and grinned like a chimpanzee. “It’s all a big
secret, you see. Wouldn’t want the competition to get wind of it.
Wouldn’t really want the regulating agencies to have too much lead
time to think about it, either. I’ll tell you about it. Don’t worry—you
aren’t the only one to know: a lot of the technical stuff has already
been discussed with various technical types. But they have no
imagination; just another engineering job to them, and they don’t go
to the same bars as my so-called colleagues. Since you are going to
represent my work—I hope—it would be just as well for you to
understand the scope of the thing.”
“Well, we haven’t discussed the details or signed an agreement,”
said Beek, apparently unfazed by the other’s presumption, “but you

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