“You are such a marvelous artist, Bertha!” Jeanna exclaimed. “I wish I could learn to paint like you.”
“Dejected men make good artists, Jeanna. Scorned women make for even greater artists!”
“Oh! Please don’t say that Bertha. He didn’t deserve you. He just could not stand you making more than him.”
“What would I do without you, Jeanna? You have been my anchor through this messy separation. Now I only have this room to sleep, paint and get ready in.”
“Will you teach me how to paint, Bertha? I too want to be independent like you!”
“Of course, my darling! We’ll start with the simplest portraits and I’ll show you how to make a portrait of a man. Why don’t you ask Mr. Ritcher to come by and while I am painting him? You can watch me standing here.” Bertha pointed to an area behind her easel.
Karl Ritcher and Jeanna had been married for ten years and had no children. Karl was a grocer in Copenhagen and Jeanna was a housewife. Although they had been happy together, strains of a lack of physical intimacy had now crept into their marriage. Jeanna also felt bored at home and wanted to paint and earn money like Bertha whom she had befriended over the past year.
Two days later, Jeanna and Karl stepped inside Bertha’s home and Bertha pointed to a green chair where Karl would be seated. “Mr. Ritcher, you will need to have a lot of patience with me! It will take me about six sessions to make your oil portrait and each session will last about two hours. Jeanna will watch me from there.” Karl twirled his brown moustache and adjusted his round glasses. “Please call me Karl. I am happy to sit here while you paint. Please tell me where I should place my stick and gloves.”
“You can keep holding on to your stick and you can keep your left glove on.”
And then, Bertha started to paint. She carefully drew the outline of the solemn face of Karl with his disheveled hair. The contours of his beige trousers and the reflection of his boots. The white tulips in the balcony and the Venus statue in the background. She ploughed through her colors and formed the right shades. The process of painting facial features and the spectacles would take three sessions. Another couple of sessions went towards his hands one of which was gloved but both held on to the stick. Jeanna made detailed notes on how Bertha was painting her husband. She was learning how to become a master from one of the leading female artists of her time. Every nuance, every brushstroke, every dark surreal mix made an impression on Jeanna. At the end of a week, Bertha was exhausted. She showed the final painting to Jeanna and Karl. Karl was awestruck. “You have captured my mood and the setup is beautiful. The portrait is magnificent!” “Do you think I can buy this from you?” Bertha had not thought about it. She felt it would be awkward to charge Karl as he had modeled for her and also because Jeanna was a dear friend. “How can I take any money from you Karl? You can keep it!”
After they had left with the painting, Karl told Jeanna, “Don’t you think we should go back and give her something? I think this would be worth at least a fortune.” “Yes, I think you should pay her its market value. I have learnt so much from her and she has not charged me anything as well.” “Very well, then. I will go tomorrow and give her an ounce of gold.”
The next day, Karl went to see Bertha. “I have a gift for you Bertha.” He handed her the ounce of gold. Bertha felt very grateful. “I surely do not deserve this Karl. You are so very kind. I enjoyed painting you.” With that, Bertha hugged Karl and kissed him on his neck.
Karl felt aroused by this affectionate gesture. He took Bertha in his arms and planted a kiss on her lips. The painting had brought them closer for a reason he whispered to her ear. Bertha drew the curtains and started to take off her clothes.