（1）
The study is too small to hang, this oil painting "Lotus" is lying in the corner, falling a very thick layer of floating dust, do not know how to deal with it. Occasionally looking at it evokes my memories of the author, Mr. Muxing, and my concern for the tiger.
How has their father and son lived in Shanghai over the years?
In 2007, I worked in an evening newspaper, and the company arranged for me to interview an old local painter who was poor and destitute, and I heard that the old painter's name was Mu Xing, known as Mr. Mu Lao, who was nearly seventy years old.
This incident was entrusted by the head of the "Zi Yunying" art institute to help the newspaper, hoping to expand his popularity through publicity and pave the way for the upcoming personal exhibition. Because he was so poor from illness that he needed money too much.
In the afternoon, three young volunteers were also interviewed, and they prepared a bucket of Arowana oil, two bags of rice and some fruits to visit and comfort them.
It is a bit incredible, the painter is also a person with a skill, living to this age, seniority and experience are placed there, not to mention how beautiful, how romantic, even if it is engaged in training, with apprentices, you can earn money to make a living. No matter how bad it is, set up a stall to paint portraits of passers-by, and it will not fall to the point of poverty and need help from outsiders!
What kind of person is this Mr. Mu Lao? What happened to him? I went to the place where he lived with great curiosity.
Mr. Mu Lao lives in an old house in the old town, commonly known as the "village in the city", which is easy to find. From a distance, a row of gray brick flat-roofed houses with their outer walls mottled and crowded by tall buildings in the middle resembles a meatloaf filling in the middle of a hamburger. The surrounding environment can be summed up in three words: poor, chaotic, and poor.
Sooner or later, this kind of simple house built privately will be demolished, renting a day is counted as a day, two bedrooms, one kitchen and one bathroom, and the price is two hundred and five. Most of the people living in the settlement are migrant workers, who are not very particular about living conditions, and the figure is low monthly rent.
The clothes drying outside the house are colorful, long and short, men's and women's, all. A tricycle was crammed into a narrow aisle, and a few bananas with sesame spots were thrown into the body, and no one was interested in it. There are several empty cartons in the corner, which, judging from the outer packaging, are used for groceries.
This atmosphere is completely out of tune with art. From the heart, a painter will generally not be interested in such a place if he is not trying to experience life and find creative inspiration, let alone settle down.
The door was open, and the old painter sat in a wheelchair to welcome the guests, with a high forehead, thin hair, and white whiskers, stretching out his trembling left hand, smiling and squinting to introduce himself: "Hello, I, my name is MuXing, welcome!" ”
I noticed that as he spoke, the corners of his mouth were slightly tilted to the right, and he kept swallowing. Obviously, this is the after-effects of a stroke.
However, he is very optimistic and talkative, and he does not shy away from saying that he is seriously ill, has spent all his savings, lives here, and lives a very bad life, making everyone laugh. But he soon said that according to the current recovery of his body, it would not be long before he could return to the studio and write and paint.
Then, pointing to a pile of things covered with plastic film in most of the house behind him, he said that if he couldn't really paint them, he wanted to use his personal exhibition to dispose of these paintings, the sooner the better, because he needed money too much.
Money, money again! When the artwork cannot be turned into money, and the money cannot be realized, there is no difference between the artist and the beggar, and talking about romance is completely self-deception.
（2）
The three young volunteers rolled up their sleeves and worked hard, and started to clean the house and the outside of the house and remove the debris.
In addition to simple daily necessities, Mr. Mu Lao's family has no decent furniture, and even the bed for sleeping and the sofa in the living room are provided by the owner. Only the more than three hundred oil paintings covered under the plastic film are the wealth he has accumulated over the years, and he does not know how much it is worth.
I did not forget the purpose of the trip, and sat down to listen to Elder Mu tell me about my experience.
Because of the cerebral infarction, the brain command is not coordinated, he speaks more slowly, sometimes having to repeat it once or twice to understand. In this way, it was not until it was close to dinner time that I could figure out his artistic vein.
Mu Lao, a 68-year-old native of Shanghai, studied painting at the Shanghai Theater Academy in his early years, specializing in Western oil painting. After graduation, I wanted to be a tide maker of reform and opening up, abandoned my pen to do business, and engaged in eel farming and export under a Hong Kong boss, and the business was doing well. The boss saw that he was doing well, very heavy, and promoted step by step until the position of general manager.
In 1997, the Asian financial crisis hit business hard, and eel exports took a sharp turn for the worse. The next year, it was really impossible to do it, the boss took time out of the funds, retracted back to Hong Kong and did not appear again, and the company declared bankruptcy. Mu Lao's shares in the company were all lost and forced to leave the business world.
At this time, the wife left a divorce agreement and left him with her daughter. When he was nearly sixty years old, he ended up with two fortunes.
In order to maintain his life, he regained his paintbrush and made a living by painting. Soon, two of his oil paintings were taken to the exhibition by the academy and bought, which attracted the attention of his peers and stimulated his enthusiasm for creation. As a result, the painting potential hidden in the young period suddenly burst out, launched a series of documentary oil paintings, won various awards many times, and some buildings and halls used his works for decoration, bringing him income and fame, and was called "Mr. Mu Lao" by the painting community.
Unexpectedly, during the golden period of his revival of his career, he was overly drunk and suffered a stroke.
Time passed quickly, and before I knew it, it was getting dark. Although the house was simple, it was cleaned up by volunteers and made clean. Everyone washed their hands, prepared to say goodbye, and leave here.
At this time, a little boy ran in from outside, his face was full of sweat, threw his bag on the sofa, and shouted at the old man: "Dad, is there anything to eat?" ”
The volunteers and I invariably set our sights on the little boy, with a suspicious look on our faces.
Elder Mu smiled awkwardly at us and said, "This is my son, named Huzi, who is attending elementary school nearby." Then, in a reproachful tone, he said to the little boy, "Tiger, you are not polite, and you don't call anyone when you enter the door!" ”
The tiger didn't seem to hear, and went into the kitchen to find food, complaining vigorously in his mouth: "Dad, why don't you cook, my stomach is hungry." ”
Elder Mu didn't pay attention to the tiger, laughed awkwardly, and said, "This child, who has no mother since childhood, doesn't understand things!" ”
The appearance of the tiger surprised me. At first glance, the child was only about eight or nine years old, handsome, thin, not very tall, with thin hair and some stunted growth.
When we were talking just now, Elder Mu didn't say a word about Huzi, and judging from his age, Elder Mu should be old and have children. But why did he say that Tiger Zi "grew up without a mother"?
I drew a big question mark in my mind.
（3）
The first day of the interview was not in-depth enough, just a rough line to understand the trajectory of Mu Lao's life, and suddenly a son named "Tiger Zi" appeared, which aroused my great interest.
The next morning, I went to the "city village" to look for Mu Lao, and I smelled the smell of ink emanating from his house. When I entered the house, I saw that the tiger was not there, and it was estimated that I had gone to school.
Several people from the "Zi Yunying" art academy are helping him select oil paintings. Large, small, framed, unframed, finished, semi-finished products, all spread out, horizontal and vertical, all over the place. The house that had just been cleaned up was a mess again, and there was nowhere to stretch out.
Elder Mu sat in a wheelchair and pointed. Everyone was busy for half a day, picking out 260 works, registering and labeling them at the same time. Then, pull it away by car and send it to the exhibition hall.
The person who sent away the painting academy, Mu Lao breathed a sigh of relief, looked at the mess, his expression was solemn, and he did not seem to be happy.
I thought that he could not give up his works, after all, it was his own years of painstaking efforts, or he was not at ease with some of the details in the exhibition, so he went forward to comfort him: "They are all experts in the painting world, give them to them, you can rest assured." ”
Elder Mu shook his head and said indignantly, "I have a number in my heart, it's too dark!" ”
"Who are you referring to?"
"Who else?" Mu Lao glanced out the door.
I realized that he was referring to the people in the academy.
Originally, the "Mr. Mu Xing's Personal Oil Painting Exhibition" activity was initiated by the new president of the "Zi Yunying" Art Academy. The academy promised that they would pay the expenses required for the exhibition first, and then deduct them from the income from the sale of the exhibited works, and the remaining part of the authors and the academy would be divided according to three or seven.
Elder Mu felt that the new dean had a dark heart, no human touch, and was taking advantage of the danger of others. However, if you don't cooperate with them, you can't find resources, your works have no sales, and they are piled up in the corners and no one cares.
"Elder Mu, if these paintings still have room for appreciation, and you don't reach the point where the mountains and rivers are exhausted, don't buy them." Think of something else. Or do you want to find relatives and friends to borrow money and get through the current difficulties? "I was kind enough to dissuade him.
Elder Mu shook his head and said, "I've all been broken like this, who will lend it to me?" Song Ming, the former director of the academy, was the only one who could help me, but he went abroad to settle down. I have a sister in Shanghai, but I don't have the face to beg her. The tiger was too small, and while I was still sober, I sold the painting and saved him up for living expenses. In case I..." His throat squirmed, unable to continue.
I poured him a cup of tea and handed it to him, waiting for him to calm down.
After two minutes, Mu Lao leaned back on his wheelchair and said meaningfully: "Planting melons to get melons, planting beans to get beans, such a superficial truth, today I finally understood." Then, after staring at me for half a day, he said in a slightly mysterious tone: "You play with the pen pole, I play with oil paint, why don't we also cooperate?" ”
"Cooperation? How to cooperate? "I think he speaks a little out of tune.
"You write my story, and I send you an oil painting. You collect well, and when I die, it may be worth a lot of money and sell for a good price. He added: "Of course, I'm talking about writing stories, not reports." ”
I thought to myself, this is not cooperation, it is trading. You just don't send me to paint, I want to write, naturally will write. I don't want to write, and what I send is all for nothing. As for me, there are not many artistic cells, and the level of appreciation is not high. The oil painting is a Western scenery, placed in my home, is a pearl dark projection. As for whether it will appreciate in value in the future, it is really difficult to say.
As a journalist, I'm only interested in new things, saying vaguely: "If your story isn't brilliant and doesn't appeal to readers, I don't write it in vain?" ”
Elder Mu said very seriously: "I have thought about the topic for you, just call it 'The Old Painter Under the Pomegranate Skirt'." How's it going, enough to taste, right? ”
Isn't it more than enough? Enough wind!
My eyes were wide open and staring at him like a stranger.
（4）
Elder Mu personally told me that the tiger was his illegitimate son.
At that time, he abandoned his pen to engage in business, engaged in aquaculture by the sea, it was the most brilliant time of his life, running big, wearing famous brands, flaunting the market, spending money without blinking, squandering, and the beautiful women around him were like clouds.
In his own words, a man's pride can only be obtained from women.
Of course, he is a student of art, has a unique aesthetic consciousness, is very picky about women, likes the kind of facial features, three-dimensional, the figure looks thin, and the touch is fleshy.
So, he kept changing private secretaries to satisfy his own freshness of possessiveness.
Until one day, when the female secretary was promoted to wife and the wife was promoted to mother, he did not restrain slightly, and the whole empty window did not get wet for two years.
However, in his opinion, once a woman has given birth to a child, the original beauty can never come back. He was not interested in his wife, so he featured a petite female secretary to fill in the shortcomings around him.
However, the relationship did not last long, and the aquaculture company declared bankruptcy. This female secretary is not a fuel-saving lamp, and directly asked his wife to show the bottom card: "Divorce, I am pregnant with his child, five months!" ”
The wife scolded Mu Lao: "The old dog can't change his nature of eating shit!" Then, a complaint expelled him from the door, how far to roll, where to stay!
After the female secretary gave birth to the child, she informed Mu Lao to go to the hospital, and then played missing and disappeared like air.
Elder Mu hugged back his young son, named him Tiger Zi, rented a house outside, and pulled a handful of and a handful of urine.
During this period, he had no possessions and no other skills than painting. In order to feed himself and feed the tigers, he helped people guard the construction site despite their advanced age and lived on a meager salary.
In the darkest moment of his life, he wanted to make a comeback, but he had no funds, no conditions, and tigers dragging oil bottles. He scratched his ears and cheeks, pondered and meditated, and found a way out: only painting could save himself.
"An old man who guards the door will paint Western oil", this word spread to the "Ziyunying" painting academy, and the painting circles were full of discussion, and many people did not believe it.
The former dean, Song Ming, personally went to see Mu Lao's paintings and found that he had a very good foundation and great potential. Therefore, with the meaning of Bole Soma, he was encouraged to keep practicing and not to be discouraged. Considering his embarrassing life, he entrusted people to take care of him, worked as an art teacher in a private primary school, with a salary, and wrapped up food and housing.
Elder Mu taught and painted at this school, and lived a few years of calm days. Tiger Zi gradually grew up, reached school age, and studied at the school where he taught until now.
Oh, I understand, after Mu Lao's stroke, he could not continue to stay in school to teach, moved out of the faculty dormitory, rented a house in the village in the city, in addition to the cheap rent, there is a more important reason, in order to take care of the tiger to go to school nearby.
At this time, I thought of another question and asked Elder Mu: For so many years, the tiger has not come to you? ”
Elder Mu smiled bitterly and shook his head.
It was here that Tiger Zi came home from school and saw me, with a shy expression and no words.
Considering that Mu Lao's mobility is inconvenient, I ask him not to do lunch, I order takeaway, eat with you, and then talk after eating. Elder Mu did not refuse, but only said: "Let you break the fee." ”
About an hour later, the takeaway arrived, coriander stir-fried beef shreds, fried prawns with green onions, youxian dried incense, three fresh soups, and a box of rice per person.
The tiger devoured and ate happily. After eating, he put down the bowl and chopsticks, wiped his mouth, and was about to leave, when he was stopped by Mu Lao: "Tiger, you are full, and you don't say thank you?" ”
Tiger Zi didn't even think about it, bowed to me, and said, "Thank you Mom!" ”
"What? What do you call me" I felt sick to my heart, thinking I had heard it wrong.
Tiger Zi replied disapprovingly, "Mom." ”
this...... What do you mean? I put down my lunch box, somewhat overwhelmed.
Elder Mu quickly explained: "This child has no mother since he was a child, and he doesn't know what it is like to be a mother. I told him that mom was the woman who gave you food, clothes, and money. So, he just called you 'Mom', no other meaning. ”
There is such a name in the world, and it is really the first time I have heard of it.
Elder Mu was afraid that I would be surprised, and said, "His mother has a lot." Shanghai's aunt, homeroom teacher, female comrades of the painting academy, and the charter wife of this house, he has called 'mother'. ”
Oh, I see, in Tiger's mind, "mom" is just a concept, a concept that contains the content of sympathy and charity.
（5）
Mr. Mu Xing's solo oil painting exhibition was held for 15 consecutive days, although the newspaper publicized it in a large way and the TV station made on-site reports, the time was more than halfway, but the people who came to visit were sparse, and there were more people watching and fewer people buying. If so, the venue fee, mounting fee, advertising fee, planning fee are counted together, and it is estimated that it will not earn anti-paste.
Usually, the artistic value of oil painting determines the value of the collection. In this third-tier city, people who really like the art of oil painting are a minority after all. Ordinary people are engaged in home decoration, and there are not many oil paintings. Computer-generated oil painting prints, although tangible and intangible, are more popular than original works. Those who are engaged in collecting are more favorable to famous paintings, and ordinary painters hold exhibitions and have no interest in joining in the fun.
Speaking from the heart, "Mr. Mu Lao" is not a false name. Before the exhibition, his works were indeed acquired by the gallery and booked by the boss, indicating that there were still knowledgeable goods.
Seeing that the exhibition time is almost over, Mu Lao is like a frosted eggplant, depressed, mentally weak, the whole person is trapped in a wheelchair, eating without thinking, tea is not drinking.
He said remorsefully, "I really regret it!" When I first came out of the academy, if I concentrated on art, my fame would definitely be louder than now, leaving more than two hundred works, enough for a tiger to live a lifetime. ”
"Children and grandchildren have their own children and grandchildren, don't be too anxious, there are many caring people in the society, and they will not look at it." These pale and powerless words, even I can't believe myself, but I still have to say them, otherwise I will have nothing to say.
Elder Mu was silent for a moment, then looked up and asked me, "Do you think I have failed in this life?" ”
I didn't know how to answer him. In fact, angels and devils live in everyone's heart. Before The age of sixty, Mu Lao was a demon, indulgent, and did absurd things. After the age of sixty, he cleaned up the mess, lay down and tasted the guts, and called for the angel to return. Now, his life is not over, whether it is success or failure, life will definitely give the answer.
I'm worried about the tiger's future.
（6）
After the exhibition, the exhibition hall urged several times to withdraw the work. The painting institute did not make money, and it was no longer enthusiastic afterwards, and it did not hire someone to carry it for a long time. Elder Mu called me and asked me to help him think of a way.
In fact, the propaganda task entrusted to me by the newspaper has been completed, and this matter is not in the part, it can be done, it can be done, it can not be done.
Someone in the editorial department quipped to me: "Be careful, this old ghost probably wants to haunt you, get out of the way." ”
I laughed and said, "An old man who is half-dead, even if he gives him a BMW, he may not be able to move!" ”
Everyone burst into laughter, and a female editor squirted the tea in her mouth.
After laughing, I calmly thought about it, dialed the number of the Youth Volunteer Association, and entrusted them with another charity activity.
A week later, Elder Mu called me and told me that he would first thank me for helping me find someone to move the paintings, and then said that he planned to take Huzi to Shanghai to join his sister, and it might be difficult to meet in the future.
It was a bit abrupt, and I asked, what about those oil paintings?
He said that his sister has a friend in Shanghai who opens a hotel, buys and sells half of it, and the funds can be returned to a part. When he's settled over there, he'll make good on his promise and paint me an oil painting.
I heard very clearly, not "give me a painting", but "paint me an oil painting". I thought, after the stroke, can the old man still paint?
Elder Mu asked me, "How many months were you born?" ”
I said, "July." ”
He sighed and said, "July is summer, so I'll draw you a picture of the lotus flower." ”
Without thinking, I replied, "Okay, I'm looking forward to your masterpiece." ”
On the day Mu Lao left, I bought a new set of clothes for Tiger Zi because he had called me "Mother." Then, volunteers were invited to help Mu Lao pack his bags and prepare to drive him to the airport.
When Elder Mu got up from his wheelchair and straightened his waist, I found that he was taller than the volunteers around him, and the word "burly" could be used to describe him.
It is said that men are tall and ugly, Mu Lao is so tall, once rich and talented, if walking on the road, women must have looked at it, and they want to take another look. No wonder there were so many "female secretaries" leaning on his lap.
A year later, I received the oil painting "Lotus" from Mu Lao from Shanghai.
He told me very frustrated on the phone that in order to paint "Lotus", he went to the park on crutches and spent a full morning by the lake, carefully observing the lotus flowers, lotus leaves, and the colors, forms, and charms of the lotus, looking for creative inspiration, how the hand holding the pen did not listen to the call, made the body stained with oil paint, painted like this, wanted to modify, did not know where to start. He realized that his hands did not listen to the call and could no longer draw. This "Lotus" is counted as a sealed work, and I will be given it as a souvenir.
After that, Mu Lao did not contact me again. I've made a few phone calls and kept shutting down and not knowing what was going on. I hope he and Tiger are all right.