Zwinger Park, 1945, Remembering an Unknown Artist Painting

First, without claiming authorship, please let me tell you one of my favorite stories. Just imagine: It's cold, it's winter, a blind man sits on the street. At his feet - a tin mug, and a cardboard with the inscription "Please donate". The people go by, and pay noch attention. Till a man comes, a poet. He takes the cardboard, writes something on it, puts it back and leaves. In the evening, the beggar's mug is full with money, no copper, proper notes. What did that poet write on that cardboard? With what magic spell did he help the blind man to get rich? His words were: "Soon the spring will come, with its flowers, the bright sunshine, the smiling women in their light, colorful dresses, and I will not see it!... " Well, the same miracle has just happened to me. More precisely, not exactly to me, but to the picture that I "sang about" a while ago in my blog. Here the lyrics to this song: "...For me, as a historian, there is no greater joy than.... going to flea markets. There I feel like a real Schliemann, and hope to find my own Troy under a pile someday. The jewel of my personal "Priamos treasure" is a painting I bought for 15 Euros, titled "Sunday in the Zwinger Park", on which two white swans are depicted with amateurish care in the middle of a blue lake, with a grass-green hill in the background, a bow-legged rotunda on top - and all this under an unbearably clear blue sky. A classic kitsch piece, then, an exemplary one. The silence with which my acquaintances tactfully averted their eyes from this masterpiece could hardly hide their concern for my damaged taste. Only Marianne, my mother-in-law, did not purse her lips. For there, under the all-too-pink water lilies, she had discovered the same thing I had: the date on which this idyll was created: "April 11, 1945." She, a native of Dresden, was 9 years old at the time, had lost her three brothers in the war, and already knew that it would be a long time before the swans could be seen again in the Dresden Zwinger. No wonder, then, that the awkward optimism of this unknown artist made a greater impression on her than the entire Munich Pinakothek, which she had visited the day before."... Well... No sooner had I posted it than my DM-box was immediately filled - with requests for interest. No kidding, a gentleman from the art industry offered me almost 100 times the original price for this painting.... Of course I am happy about this development, but I am also not really surprised by it. Because even in my quality of a rather modest art historian I know, that this miracle has a clear and rather prosaic name: It is called proper "Provenance". In art history, and even more so in the art market, it is a fundamental term. It is a written accompaniment that describes the origin, the creation, the so called "life story" of a work of art. And the more interesting, adventurous, lively or simply "criminal", but above all - emotional this provenance is kept, the higher is usually also the price of this art piece. I will gladly tell you many more stories about these miracles, where the price of some, from an artistic point of view rather insignificant works, thanks to clever Provenance - have reached horrendous prices at Sotheby's & Co. Yes, I will do it... Someday... But today I am offering you first the picture of this unknown artist from Dresden, painted in the spring of 1945 and copied by myself in my style. As long as Sotheby's hasn't snatched it away from me yet...

Painting:Acrylic on Canvas

Original:One-of-a-kind Artwork

Size:39.4 W x 39.4 H x 1.6 D in

Delivery Time:Typically 5-7 business days for domestic shipments, 10-14 business days for international shipments.