Persistence of Memory

Meadows Museum

The Meadows Museum is actually a division of the SMU Meadows School of the Arts. The building is large, housing a comprehensive collection of Spanish art with works ranging from the 10th to 20th centuries. Highlights of the collection include masterpieces by Goya and Picasso, as well as beautifully large Baroque canvases, rococo oil sketches, wood sculptures, as well as works by leading artists in the region.

The floors in the building are a smooth and shiny mid-toned hardwood, the walls a creamy beige though most near the entrance are covered with banners that advertise the different exhibits and galleries that can be found through large arches and doorways down the hallways.


First Friday, or something close to it. The opening event of every month that the Museum uses to showcase the existing and upcoming exhibitions. There's usually food and music, and open bar and other small entertainments. This month, the Museum is hosting a small collection of Mughal miniature painting, and the atmosphere has been set to match the exotic south asian theme of the artwork. The rich smells of curry and the playful strains of Bollywood musicals sift through the background noise of conversation and commotion, as guests and donors mingle in the museum's rooms and grounds.

—-

Art's one of the many passing interests Michael's developed over the years, and so he's quite happy to spend a free evening at the museum. He's quietly moving through the crowds his attention moving from piece to piece. To most he'd not stand out at all, he's even making the slight fidgeting that humans a prone to, yet anyone observant, or that familiar with vampires would quickly recognize this as put on, all motion ceases when he's looking at anything that interests him, and there's just far too little emotion in his features, in fact his face is all but a mask of indifference.

—-

"A glass of the blush please, thank you." Paige waits at the end of the open bar, having already turned in her drink ticket, and so it's not but a few seconds for the pour, before she's away again, this time with a glass of wine in hand, and moving back into the crowd, filing along with the rest of the visitors that are moving in a mostly orderly queue through the main hall towards the new exhibition. Thankfully, there's a small selection outside, and there's more of an excuse to enjoy the cool spring evening. The not tall, but certainly taller than average woman finally comes to a halt in front of a sculpture that's, while not a painting at all, apparently set up to draw attention. 10th century, central India, a dancing Ganesh on a pedestal just outside of the main gallery door.

—-

Michael rarely concerns himself with the way everyone else is going, right now that means he's heading against the crowd, his attention turning to the sculpture, and in what's the first change in expression for the evening Michael frowns, he seems to consider the piece for a while then he nods, his attention drifts to Paige in an Uncharacteristically social moment. "Are you a fan of the style, or simply of the arts in general; if you don't mind my asking?"

—-

Paige looks up, eyes flickering over the man who steps up close to the sculpture as well, a quick assessment, with no judgement attached to it. the smile that comes soon after is a pleasant one, friendly, as befits the place and the event, "The arts in general, though I think I find the similarity in artistic styles across unrelated cultures particularly interesting. How about you?" The wine is held carefully in hand. She's yet to take even a sip from it.

—-

Shrugging a shoulder Michael smiles as he studies the sculpture again for a moment. "The arts in general, in truth my experience leans more towards European styles. Although I did have an associate who was very interested in Indian art between the Eleventh and fourteenth century; I always tended towards being fashionable rather than actually taking an interest in my youth, but you're right art does carry certain traits across cultures."

—-

"Most people do," is Paige's easy reply, "But that's certainly not a mark against you. I would imagine that the vast majority of the art that survives today, particularly in europe and the americas did so because when it was first produced it was popular art. Modern and contemporary art has certainly benefitted from that sort of interest. And especially at the pace that the world seems to be moving, it's pushing artists working today to be even more creative, which is never a bad thing in my opinion."

—-

Shaking his head Michael sighs. "I always made a point of collecting and storing the less fashionable pieces, as long as I thought they were of potential note, understanding art and having an interest were always two different things. I find art today does little for me; modern art I feel simply tries to show the soul of the artist, rather than trying to show the world as the artists soul perceives it." He sighs faintly. "I fear I'm still not an artist, but I do find art helps to inspire memories."

—-

"And what did you do with the pieces once you found out what their true value was?" She seems honestly curious, finally lifting the glass for a sip, a small one, as if the wine was more for the show than for actual consumption, "That is what is currently in fashion. Art as self-promotion, rather than promotion of the self." A slight tilt of her head, "Because of what it reminds you of, or because it recalls the time at which you first saw it?"

—-

Studying Paige for a moment Michael sighs his answer coming a little later. "You can't put a value on such things, I kept what I thought was of /note/ those pieces I thought spoke of the time, or that showed something I'd not seen in other pieces, and when I thought they'd be appreciated I'd give them to galleries, or museums, once or twice I've even had private galleries over the years. And both, many pieces remind me of similar places or events, but some I can remember seeing for the first time when they were still being hung in peoples homes."

—-

"Everything has value, whether it's intellectual, monetary, or like this piece here," at that her hand reaches out, almost, but not quite skimming the surface of the statue, more tracing the graceful curve of his figure, "Spiritual. And with some, like Sri Ganesh, here, you can still feel the power that was placed into them by the hands of the craftsmen who made them." She turns, just then, to deposit her glass on the tray of a passing waiter, "Paige." She offers her name, out of politeness.

—-

Michael bows his head as he looks at Paige. "Michael, and it's a pleasure." He takes a glance at the piece again for a moment. "And you're right; everything has a value, unfortunately that value is rarely fixed, a piece of art has only the value that a person gives it, a loaf of bread is worth a great deal more when you're starving than when you're eating a feast each evening. I prefer not to give value to anything without good reason."

—-

"The pleasure is mine, I'm certain." While Paige doesn't bow, she does offer a polite tip of her head, "Always a safe course. Though, it does leave out a certain amount of uncertainty, the sort of thing that makes every day a bit more exciting than the last. But then, I suppose my grandmother would say I'm still young, and don't know any better." That's lightly said. the sort of comment older people always say about their younger counterparts, "Were you going inside to see the paintings?"

—-

Nodding Michael laughs. "True, but I've never had to deal with boring evenings." He glances towards the door. "I had actually just stepped out, I will admit that I'm not exceptionally fond of the smell of curry." He sighs. "But I think it's about time I headed back in, my nights are getting shorter, would you care to join me?"

—-

"Good taste, sensible and lucky." Paige's laughter is warm and engaging, as she steps back from the statue, to make room, not only for the people waiting, but also to allow you to step away as you like, "I'd be delighted. I haven't had the time to see them just yet." She does fall still, allowing you to choose which gallery to continue on to.

—-

Michael moves with a surprising grace as he heads for a partial collection of the Hamzanama a mere fifty pieces present Michael once again becomes impassive, although his tone's still social enough, his features become as impossible to read as one may expect from a dead man. "It's a shame to see such incomplete collections, I saw these gathered in sixteen thirty nine, it was incredible seeing all fourteen hundred pieces gathered together. I sometimes wonder how pieces could have been lost." He sighs with a shrug. "Still it's a constant truth, all things are lost or destroyed given time."

—-

The woman moves easily enough to match your strides, her eyes attentive, as she steps into the gallery, managing to easily, courteously divide her attention between the artwork and her companion, "You were very fortunate, to have had that opportunity." She seems to take the indication of his age, such as it is, in stride, "I can only be thankful that some of it remains, in whatever form. Though I imagine that things get lost easily enough. Stolen, looted, burned. Especially in the case of most asian art, when it came into contact with europe. They were trinkets, baubles, curiosities, to be used one day and discarded the next. No different than the art of egypt, and its people. people today look on mummies as valuable artifacts. less than a hundred years ago, people were burning them as kindling."

—-

Nodding Michael laughs. "I've been fortunate to see many things that are lost now, or are worn with age." He seems to study the pieces that are present, they take up a fair amount of each one being roughly 54cm X 69cm. Michael looks to Paige for a moment, his expression still giving away nothing. "I sometimes wonder if it's not the destruction of so much that creates interest in it. If all those mummies had been preserved would we still see them as something special, or as one of many? It comes back to our discussion of value, and rarities part in that."

—-

Paige, for her part, doesn't seem inclined to press the man beside her for any more information on his age or experience. He'll share or he won't. She does move away from him though, to begin a slow, methodical circuit of the pieces, pausing at one, Zumurrud Shah at the base of the mountain, with Rahim Khun-Asham, the blood-drinker and Yaqut Daraksh, the shining ruby, "I think it depends on the times. I think we have developed enough, human society, that we now have a much better idea of the value that history has. Probably one of the reasons why old things are once again coming into fashion."

—-

Michael follows taking in each piece with mild interest. He looks at Paige, his expression actually becoming amused. "Oh human society always holds a great value in history, but they always ultimately find something of greater value." He motions to the room around them. "In five hundred years this collection will be lucky to be twenty pieces large, in a thousand years? Well few things last a thousand years, regardless of how much they're valued. I fear that humans destroy far more easily than they create, or even preserve."

—-

"That's because we're human." Paige looks over at the man, one she read well enough to notice isn't a man at all, a fact he himself confirmed in the course of conversation, "As much as we like to say that we want to save the world for our children, or for future generations, our lives are finite and fleeting. In the time since you saw these paintings collected, almost fifteen generations of my kind have come and gone. When your life doesn't extend beyond seventy, eighty, -maybe-, if you're lucky ninety years, how can you really value what will happen or exist long after you're gone? You can't. You have to live for the now, because now is all you're ever going to have."

—-

Michael seems unmoved by the logic his expression still impossible to read. "You can value your legacy, you can care what will be remembered." He smiles although it's obviously superficial. "I see enough humans work to create their legacies by building great and wonderous things, by thinking of things to improve the lives of others, or just by helping the world around them to know that destruction isn't necessary to live in the moment; before I became a vampire I was dedicated to preserving the memories of my time." He sighs. "We don't destroy because we don't know the value of history, we destroy because we don't care for its value."

—-

"Their legacies. That's the key, isn't it? Yes, there are some rare people out there, who truly are selfless enough to think about others and the future head of them. But most…it's about creating personal memorials. Temples to their ego. Vaulted cathedrals and grave markers to themselves. Even when we remember the dead, our ceremonies are selfish acts." Paige's tone is cool, not clipped, but certainly not argumentative. "And what are you dedicated to now? Now that you're no longer human?"

—-

Laughing Michael arches an eyebrow. "Oh now I simply pass the time, once you've lived as long as I have you learn not to dedicate too much time to anything, I still preserve what I can, I remember and record what people have done, I save what I can so that others may remember it." He looks to Paige. "And what of you? What do you dedicate yourself to?"

—-

"That seems odd, to not dedicate too much time to anything, when all that you have is time." Still, it is what it is, and what it is, is a comment, not a condemnation, "I like to think that I help people to understand the world around them. Not just the things that they can see, but the things that they can't. There's so much more in this world than humans and animals." The fact that Michael's race is here at all, is proof of that.

—-

Shrugging Michael sighs. "I think we're speaking on different scales, I rarely spend more than a century on an interest, at least not with any degree of dedication… all things grow tedious with time. I find it best to… flit from one interest to another and then back again, that way nothing grows too boring too fast." He again seems amused by the last statement. "That statement's possibly more true than you know. Unfortunately I must be going, as I said, the evenings are beginning to draw shorter, I should conduct some business before the evening in through."

—-

There's an understanding, in the shake of her head Paige offers to Michael, "Please, you don't need to apologize. Thank you for escorting me through the gallery." She steps back, to allow him to pass, though it's unlikely she'd pose any sort of hindrance. Still, she offers, in passing, "Strange that the most timeless of creatures is the one most bound by the strictures of time." But then, another respectful tip of her head, "Good evening, Michael."

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