章节目录 I AM CALLED BLACK-4

(88106 www.88106.info)    WasNuritheMiniaturist,whowasmuchmoresubtleinthoughtthanI’dassumed,beingreservedbecauseheunderstoodthatmyEnishtesentmeheretoinvestigate,orwashemerelyparrotingHeadIlluminatorMasterOsman?

    “IsEleganttheoneresponsibleforallthisgildingwork?”Iasked.“Who’sdoingthegildingnow,inhisstead?”

    Theshoutsandscreamsofchildrencouldnowbeheardthroughtheopendoorthatfacedtheinnercourtyard.Below,oneofthedivisionheadshadstartedadministeringthebastinadotoapprenticeswho’dmostlikelybeencaughtwithredinkpowderintheirpocketsorgoldleafhiddenawayinafoldofpaper;probablythetwowhomI’dseentremblingastheywaitedinthecold.Youngpainters,seizinganopportunitytomockthem,rantothedoortowatch.

    “BythetimetheapprenticespaintthegroundoftheHippodromeherearosecolor,finishingitoffasourMasterOsmanhasdictated,”saidNuriEffendicautiously,“ourbrotherElegantEffendi,Godwilling,willhavereturnedfromwhereverhe’sgoneandwillcompletethegildingonthesetwopages.Ourmaster,OsmantheMiniaturist,wantedElegantEffenditocolorthedirtflooroftheHippodromedifferentlyineachscene.Rosepink,Indiangreen,saffronyelloworthecolorofgoose**.Whosoeverbeholdsthepicturewillrealizeinthefirstrenderingthisisadirtsquareandshouldbeearth-colored,butinthesecondandthirdpictures,he’llwantothercolorstokeephimselfamused.Embellishingoughttobringmerrimenttothepage.”

    Inoticedsomepicturesonasheetofpaperthatanassistantleftinacorner.Hewasworkingonasingle-leafpictureforaBookofVictories,thedepictionofanavalfleetheadingofftobattle,butitwasobviousthatthescreamsofhisfriendswhosesoleswerebeingseverelybeaten,provokedtheillustratortorunoffandwatch.Thefleethemadebyrepeatedlytracingidenticalshipswithablockpatterndidn’tevenseemtofloatinthesea;yet,thisartificiality,thelackofwindinthesails,hadlesstodowiththeblockpatternthantheyoungpainter’slackofskill.IsawwithsorrowthatthepatternhadbeencutviolentlyoutofanoldbookwhichIcouldn’tidentify,perhapsacollagealbum.Obviously,MasterOsmanwasoverlookingquitealot.

    Whenwecametohisownworktable,NuriEffendiproudlystatedthathefinishedagildedroyalinsignia

    forOurSultan,whichhe’dbeenworkingonforthreeweeks.IrespectfullyadmiredNuriEffendi’sgoldinlayandtheinsignia,whichhadbeenmadeonanemptysheettoensurethatitsrecipientandthereasonforitsbeingsentwouldremainsecret.IknewwellenoughthatmanyimpetuouspashasintheEasthadrefrainedfromrebellionuponseeingthenobleandpotentsplendoroftheSultan’sroyalinsignia.

    Next,wesawthelastmasterpiecesthatJemaltheCalligrapherhadtranscribed,completedandleftbehind;butwepassedoverthemhastilytoavoidgivingcredencetoopponentsofcoloranddecorationwhomaintainedthattrueartconsistedofcalligraphyaloneandthatdecorativeilluminationwassimplyasecondarymeansofaddingemphasis.

    Nas1rtheLimnerwasmakingamessofaplateheintendedtorepairfromaversionoftheQuintetofNizamidatingbacktotheeraofTamerlane’ssons;thepicturedepictedHüsrevlookingatanakedShirinasshebathed.

    Any-two-year-oldformermasterwhowashalfblindandhadnothingtosaybesidesclaimingthatsixtyyearsagohekissedMasterBizhad’shandinTabrizandthatthegreatmasteroflegendwasblindanddrunkatthetime,showeduswithtremblinghandstheornamentationonthepenboxhewouldpresentasaholidaygifttoOurSultanwhenitwascompletedthreemonthshence.

    Shortlyasilenceenvelopedthewholeworkshopwhereclosetoeightypainters,studentsandapprenticesworkedinthesmallcellswhichconstitutedthelowerfloor.Thiswasapostbeatingsilence,thelikesofwhichI’dexperiencedmanytimes;asilencewhichwouldbebrokenattimesbyanerve-wrackingchuckleorawitticism,attimesbyafewsobsorthesuppressedmoanofthebeatenboybeforehiscryingfitwouldremindthemasterminiaturistsofthebeatingstheythemselvesreceivedasapprentices.Butthehalf-blindny-two-year-oldmastercausedmetosensesomethingdeeperforamoment,here,farfromallthebattlesandturmoil:thefeelingthateverythingwascomingtoanend.Immediatelybeforetheendoftheworld,therewouldalsobesuchsilence.

    Paintingisthesilenceofthoughtandthemusicofsight.

    AsIkissedMasterOsman’shandtobidhimfarewell,Ifeltnotonlygreatrespecttowardhim,butasentimentthatplungedmysoulintoturmoil:pitymixedwiththeadorationbefittingasaint,apeculiarfeelingofguilt.This,perhaps,becausemyEnishte—whowantedpainters,openlyorsecretly,toimitatethemethodsoftheFrankishmasters—washisrival.

    Isuddenlysensed,aswell,thatIwasperhapsseeingthegreatmasteraliveforthelasttime,andintheflusterofwantingtopleaseandheartenhim,Iaskedaquestion:

    “Mygreatmaster,mydearsir,whatseparatesthegenuineminiaturistfromtheordinary?”IassumedtheHeadIlluminator,whowasaccustomedtosuchfawningquestions,wouldgivemeadismissiveresponse,andthathewaspresentlyinthemidstofforgettingwhoIwasaltogether.

    “Thereisnosinglemeasurethatcandistinguishthegreatminiaturistfromtheunskilledandfaithlessone,”hesaidinallseriousness.“Thischangeswithtime.Yettheskillsandmoralitywithwhichhewouldfacetheevilsthatthreatenourartareofsignificance.Today,inordertodeterminejusthowgenuineayoungpainteris,I’daskhimthreequestions.”

    “Andwhatwouldtheybe?”

    “Hashecometobelieve,undertheswayofrecentcustomaswellastheinfluenceoftheChineseandtheEuropeanFranks,thatheoughttohaveanindividualpaintingtechnique,hisownstyle?Asanillustrator,doeshewanttohaveamanner,anaspectdistinctfromothers,anddoesheattempttoprovethisbysigninghisnamesomewhereinhisworkliketheFrankishmasters?Todeterminepreciselythesethings,I’dfirstaskhimaquestionabout”style“and”signature.““

    “Andthen?”Iaskedrespectfully.

    “Then,I’dwanttolearnhowthisillustratorfeltaboutvolumeschanginghands,beingunbound,andourpicturesbeingusedinotherbooksandinothererasaftertheshahsandsultanswho’dcommissionedthemhavedied.Thisisasubtleissuedemandingaresponsebeyondone’sbeingsimplyupsetorpleasedbyit.Thus,I’dasktheillustratoraquestionabout”time“—anillustrator’stimeandAllah’stime.Doyoufollowme,mychild?”

    Nay.Butthat’snotwhatIsaid.Instead,Iasked,“Andthethirdquestion?”

    “Thethirdwouldbe”blindness“!”saidthegreatmasterHeadIlluminatorOsman,whothenfellsilentasifthisrequirednoexplication.

    “Whatisitabout”blindness“?”Isaidwithembarrassment.

    “Blindnessissilence.IfyoucombinewhatI’vejustnowsaid,thefirstandthesecondquestions,”blindness’willemerge.It’sthefarthestonecangoinillustrating;itisseeingwhatappearsoutofAllah’sownblackness.“Isaidnomore.Iwalkedoutside.Idescendedtheicystairswithouthurrying.IknewthatIwouldaskthegreatmaster’sthreegreatquestionsofButterfly,OliveandStork,notonlyforthesakeofconversation,buttobetterunderstandtheselivinglegendswhowerecontemporariesofmine.

    Ididnot,however,gotothemasterilluminators’housesimmediately.ImetwithEstherneartheJewishquarteratanewbazaarthathadanelevatedviewoftheconfluenceoftheGoldenHornandtheBosphorus.EstherwasallatwitterinthepinkdressshewasforcedtowearasaJew,withherlargeandlivelybody,hermouthwhichneverstoppedmoving,andhereyebrowsandeyeswhichtwitchedmadlyandsignaledtome;indeed,thisishowshewasamongtheshoppingslavewomen,thewomenwearingthefadedandloosecaftansofpoorneighborhoodsandamongthecrowdsthathadlostthemselvesamid

    carrots,quincesandsmallbundlesofonionsandturnips.

    ShestuffedtheletterIgaveherintohershalwarpantswithanadeptandmysteriousgesture,asifthewholemarketwerespyinguponus.ShetoldmethatShekurewasthinkingofme.ShetookherbaksheeshandwhenIsaid,“Please,makehasteanddeliveritstraightaway,”sheindicatedthatshestillhadquitealotofworktodobygesturingtowardherbundleandsaidthatsheonlycoulddeliverthelettertoShekuretowardmidday.IaskedhertotellShekurethatI’dgopayvisitstothethreeyoungandrenownedmasterminiaturists.

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