Konrad and Alexandra (PDF) - Rolf Gross

earnestly watched the drawing emerge, and Amedeo who scratched and screeched with his charcoal on the canvas. Shefelt as if his long hands were caressing her body. She shivered. Akhmatova closed the window asking, whether she feltcold and wanted the shawl. Alexandra assured her that she was perfectly all right. Akhmatova smiled. "I too was not usedto being looked at in such detail at first."After a while Amedeo put down his charcoal and with blackened fingers turned the canvas around. With a few deftstrokes he had produced a beguiling sketch of her, catching her reclining body, her back and legs, her arms, and a roughlayout of her head.Her face was empty."This will be enough for today," said Amedeo. "I rework what I have and rough-in the background. Maybe I can begin toput on the paint tomorrow. Can you come back tomorrow afternoon for another hour or two? Finally, I will have to fill inyour face, that will be the most difficult task and may take another two sessions."Akhmatova asked whether he did not want to sketch Alexandra in another position."No, this will be a classical painting." he said," I see it before my eyes, I could almost finish it in my sleep."Alexandra spent the afternoons at Amedeo’s studio. In the mornings she wandered through the museums and the streetsof town. Sometimes Akhmatova was present, often Alexandra was alone with Amedeo. Apparently no jealousy existedbetween Amedeo and Akhmatova , and despite the shivers that overcame Alexandra at times, Amedeo made nounwarranted advances. They floated in suspended time.When Amedeo began to put on the paint he had a few critical hours, the plasticity of her body on the canvas did notsatisfy his vision. He had to paint her forms over twice. In the end only her empty face was left.He stared unhappily at his first layout of her face."I can’t find the facial expression which matches your classical forms."She tried to think of this and that but nothing satisfied him.He should make love to me, she thought, maybe he is looking for this spent repose. She had seen such a sleepingbeauty at the Louvre. They were alone, and she gingerly voiced her thought."No," he said blushing, "I am not looking for that pose, it would not fit this painting, I want your skeptical, arrogant side—and you think of lovemaking!"Someone knocked at the door, and before Amedeo could open, or she could cover herself, an agitated, breathlessManovsky stormed into the room.Speechless, Manovsky stood in the door. Alexandra drew the bedcover over her body. Manovsky collapsed into thechair, watery-blue eyes bulging.When he had caught his breath, he started to shout in his horrid French. "So this is where you are hiding! Naked inModigliani’s bed!"He changed to a suppressed, threatening Russian. "I waited for you all last week and you did not come. I searched thetown for you and could not find you. Your Armenian friends denied any knowledge of your whereabouts. Is that what onegets for one’s generosity? You promised to visit me!"Manovsky gasped for air, his eyes tearing. Amedeo, who had only caught the threatening undertone of Manovsky’slament, got up to defend Alexandra, but hesitated to attack his powerful patron.Alexandra rose. Clutching the bedspread with one hand she pointed at Manovsky. With an icy, cutting voice she shouted."You miserable, disgusting voyeur. Leave this room at once. You have neither been invited nor has anybody given youpermission to enter. Disappear!"She pointed at the door. But Manovsky had spied the unfinished canvas. He got up, and, saliva dripping from his mouth,shouted at Amedeo. "I must have this painting. If you will not sell me this painting, I will destroy you on the Paris market.You will never be able to sell another canvas in this town."Amedeo took a step back and stuttered that the painting was Alexandra’s, not his. He had no authorization to sell it toanybody.Alexandra, with fiery eyes, advanced towards Manovsky, who cowed and took a few steps backwards."You miserable scum, get out!" she shouted in her worst Russian argot.Manovsky staggered backwards towards the door. "Alexandra, let me at least have this painting," he slobbered half inRussian and half in Yiddish. He bent down spreading his fleshy arms in front of her. "I offer you a large sum of money. Icannot live without this painting. You have no right to destroy my life. Alexandra, take pity on me."She pushed him in the direction of the door. He crumpled but did not move from the spot. Suddenly she let her draperyfall to the floor and pummeling him with her right fist, shoved the whimpering shape towards the door.Amedeo, finally recovered from his paralysis, came to her help, opened the door, and together they pushed the totteringman into the hallway.Amedeo slammed the door.Alexandra collapsed into the chair. Amedeo knelt down in front of her. As if recreating her, he very gently moved hisfinger across her eyebrows, her flushed cheeks, her mouth…"I have seen your face," he said and kissed her shoulder.168