‘Yes it is – I knew you wouldn't have heard of her but I mention her in the same breath as the other two ladies because – and you will know what I mean when I say each of them was filled with light – a different kind of light, but light still: and after all my friend, light is the absence of darkness. I knew each of them intimately – I shall say no more of that, but it is true.’ He sighs and I look at him lost in thought.
His mood changes and he laughs again, he bangs my kit table and tubes of paint jump.
‘Adele was a German Jew, veeeery rich family who used to have big soiree’s in Geneva every summer with the Herman Hesse crowd – ahhhhhhhhhh rich bohemia, what a beauty you were. Adele was allowed to follow her gift for art, She was a student at the Bauhaus and became a great favourite of Paul Klee – in all senses.
The descriptions of him painting while holding the baby and watching the frying pan are all true by the way…’
He stops – suddenly aware that he has launched off on a tale.
I looked at my watch. ' t’s too late to stop now' I say - and I grin’
‘ Ok – so Klee finishes with Adele before Frau Klee finds out - and Adele, a woman scorned as it were, stole not only his frying pan, as a joke - but two small watercolours – and left town for rich Swiss bohemia.’
His eyebrows lifted high as he looked at me while saying this, but I said nothing, both of us knowing that those two watercolours would now be worth a small fortune if signed – but stolen? – hmmm – I didn’t want to interrupt his flow, but he just kept staring.
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