STORY: Classical Studies, [G]
Sasscat Bu-to-y
Author: Sasscat Bu-to-y
Series: Schoolhouse Due South
Rating: G
Codes: none
Teaser: Fraser makes a character study.
Disclaimer: Thanks to Alliance for giving us such *delightful* toys to
play with. Also thanks to Super-Teacher Sue, who makes Classics
interesting.
Classical Studies
(c) Sasscat Bu-to-y 2000
Fraser wasn't sure if it was just coincidence or if somehow Ray
Kowalski's internal energy was rubbing off on him, but it seemed that
he'd been going to bed later and later since meeting Ray. It was almost
nine o'clock, and he wasn't the least bit tired. He couldn't pass it
off as absorption in the book he was reading, either - oh, the book was
interesting enough, but he knew that wasn't it. Against his will,
against every fibre of his being, he was acclimatising to the packed-in
life of Chicago. Full of people, full of puzzles, full of noise and
bright lights. As much as he longed to go home, he also dreaded
reaching his native open spaces and finding himself a stranger there.
He sighed slightly, and redoubled his focus on the book on his desk. He
would not give in to unfounded fears. He was having fun. It *was* a
fascinating book, 'The Art of Greek Vase Painting'. Actually, what was
fascinating was the idle parallels he began to make when he let his mind
wander.
The entire technique of black-figure painting could be boiled down to
one single word: Ray. Or more precisely, Ray Kowalski. Brimming with
primitive vitality, moving in impossible directions, his entire body
never quite satisfied with the position it was in. He was angular,
oddly ceremonial, his most endearing traits incised so they could never
be removed.
Both the technique and the person employed a great deal of decoration -
Ray his commendations, tattoo, his shining bracelet. He saw the world
in plain terms, without shading or in-betweens. When he tried to hide
his concern, it was an unconvincing pose at best. And always he seemed
to be caught in a moment of vigorous action. Good Lord, he even stirred
his coffee with a wooden spoon. There was nothing day-to-day about him.
Ray Kowalski was black-figure.
Ray Vecchio, then, must be red-figure, right down to his looser, freer
clothes. Smoother, he was; less cutting, more refined. Lighter,
slimmer, with an easy grace and suppleness at odds with Ray Kowalski's
tough and fidgety motions. Ray Vecchio not only saw all the world's
shades of grey and brown; he embraced them. Like red-figure drew more
from themes of daily life - home, the gymnasium, the wild excesses of
the drinking symposium - so did Ray exude a comfortable, down-to-earth
feeling that made Fraser comfortable with him. With Ray Kowalski it was
full-on, full-time. Relaxing with Ray Vecchio could be... relaxing.
The pause before action or catching one's breath afterwards -
psychological moments, that was what Fraser enjoyed about Ray's company.
And of course, he was more realistic, although in a way that didn't seem
to conjure as many miracles as Ray Kowalski's blind faith.
According to the book, decoration wasn't needed in red-figure 'either to
fill space or please the eye'. True enough. Ray Vecchio had an easy
self-confidence that Ray Kowalski would undoubtedly envy. Fraser
couldn't help but envy it himself, although it was very seldom he
allowed himself to acknowledge just how much he let his uniform define
him. He doubted Ray would ever let anyone or anything define him but
himself. It was as though his clothes really were 'brushed on' in the
red-figure style; nothing could interfere with the simple quality of...
*Rayness* that Ray Vecchio projected.
Fraser toyed with the idea of making his own vase to represent this
whimsy. It would be what were called 'bilingual vases' - black-figure
on one side, red-figure on the other, such as those the Andokides
Painter was most famous for. Ray and Ray, guns drawn, eyes sparking
defiance at the dark places in the world. 'Fraser M'egraphsen' he would
paint on each side, or possibly 'Ho Canados Egraphsen'. The Canadian
painted me. In bold strokes such as those found on the Francois vase,
where potter Ergotimos and painter Kleitias vied for credit of the
exquisitely worked masterpiece.
But he would not have the patience to delineate two hundred and seventy
entire figures. Just black-figure Ray and red-figure Ray, named in
neatly carved Greek lettering. Perhaps with the added inscription of
beauty common to so many Greek vases. 'Ray Kalos'. And indeed, both
Rays were beautiful in their seperate, contrasting ways.
It was just past ten o'clock. Fraser leaned back in his chair,
stretching, then closed the book. Whether it was the effects of Ray
Kowalski's own unique speed of existence or not, this ought to be more
than enough time to wind down after the day. He opened his bottom
drawer and slid the book in, letting his fingers linger only a moment
before putting the book out of sight. Time for bed.
--
The End