THIS had not been a good day for Bernard Cathelin. Eight hours spent at the Mourlot Presses in central Paris, and the only result was the discovery that the particular shade of yellow he wanted to use in his latest limited-edition lithograph, intended for this week's Art Asia in Hong Kong, was no longer available.
'You are completely at the mercy of two ink companies. If they stop making one colour, there's nothing you can do,' he groaned.
Then this interview: he had forgotten about it and had arranged a meeting with clients. I was duly introduced to 'Monsieur Renoir', grandson of the artist, who had arrived to discuss some slightly cracked paint in an oil painting Cathelin completed 15 years ago. The artist promised to touch it up.
Then suddenly he announced we were late, and, not showing his 76 years, raced into the streets with the large canvas. We jumped into a taxi and the driver, unwittingly, took over the interview. 'So what artist do you like best?' 'Of all, I think Pierre Bonnard,' mused Cathelin.
'No, no, I mean who do you prefer, Matisse or Picasso?' insisted the driver, who introduced himself as Armando.
'In that case, Matisse.' Armando preferred Picasso, or, at least, early Picasso. Then, expressing amazement at the price Van Goghs fetch today and at the fact that Van Gogh made only one sale in his lifetime, he asked Cathelin why artists have to be dead to sell paintings. Cathelin, who has sold many, just smiled.
