The author is an art critic at Observer, who recently wrote a favourable review on Damien Hirst's exhibition in Venice. I actually didn't realise it's the same writer at that time.
This is an ode to Velazquez's genius of painting. She writes impassioned admirations for his works so elegantly and touchingly that one can almost 'see' the paintings she's describing.
It's also a story of John Snare, a bookseller in Reading.... It can be read as a detective story.
The author cleverly intertwines two different lives together which revolve around a portrait of King Charles I....
It's a fascinating true story. I like it a lot.
"The mystery of Velázquez’s art is not just that his paintings are both dazzling and profoundly moving all at once, but that these apparent opposites coincide to the extent that one feels neither can exist without the other. The truth of life, of our brief walk in the sun, has to be set down in a flash of brilliant brush strokes that are almost disappearing. The image, the person, the life: all are here now but on the edge of dissolution. It is the definition of our human existence."
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