The Golden Key

by Melanie Rawn

  The Abdication, artist unknown, 1358(7).

  Oil on canvas. Picca Grijalva.

  A family portrait in the style fashionable throughout the mid 1300s, this painting of Grand Duke Alejandro II, Grand Duchess Teressa, and their two children is remarkable not only for its charm but also for the informality and curious humor with which it treats its serious subject.

  Alejandro, seated, offers the do’Verrada signet ring to his son Baltran, who kneels at his father’s right. The youth is primly dressed in a black suit relieved only by the singular corsage pinned to his lapel: red clover for Industry, a fig leaf for Argument, and daisies for Innocence. The young Mechella leans affectionately against her father’s left leg; a circlet of oak leaves, for Independence and Bravery, crowns her head. Scholars who argue for a later date than 1358 cite this circlet as evidence, for at that time no one could have predicted the affairs (she refused to marry her long-time lover, the composer Friedrich Shopan, claiming that marriage was a prison devised by men for women), scandalous essays, and impassioned public debates that would mark her notorious career as a campaigner for the rights of women.

  Grand Duchess Teressa stands behind her husband’s right shoulder, one hand on the back of his chair; she regards the painter—and the viewer—with an ironic eye. At her waist, half-concealed by the chair, she holds a small wicker basket of walnuts, signifying Intellect and Strategem and, no doubt, the Grijalva propensity for smothering their paintings in often nonsensical floral symbolism, especially since Teressa was the most self-effacing of Grand Duchesses, conscientious about her children and her charities but certainly uninvolved in the cares of government.

  Most debate on this portrait centers on the figure of Alejandro. He does not look ill or even particularly old—perhaps a flattery by the artist—though his seated pose is evidently meant to mask the unidentified illness that forced him to abdicate at the age of forty. In his lap rests a bouquet of blue roses, which in Grijalva symbology represent Impossibility. From his left hand dangles a golden key, a reference possibly to his mother’s Grijalva ancestry. More curiously, scattered under and around his boots are pea plants, some still in flower; research has revealed no iconographical meaning for the humble pea, but the sweet pea appropriately symbolizes Departure. That the sweet pea was intended is further borne out by Alejandro’s chair; it is everywhere minutely inscribed with tiny writing—lately identified as that of an ancient Tza’ab mystic cult—recently translated as a single phrase repeated over and over: “Here it ends, I am free.”

  Alejandro officially abdicated in 1358 due to ill health and retired to Palasso Grijalva. No death date has ever been firmly established for him. The claims of certain art historians that this painting is by Grand Duke Alejandro himself, done many years after the abdication it records, are completely unsubstantiated and entirely ridiculous.

  The Mirror of Truth, by Saavedra Grijalva, 1316.

  Oil on wood. Galerria Verrada.

  The prize of this small but exquisite collection—not as well known as the impressive collection at the Galerria Nacionalla but in its own way of great interest to the art lover—is Saavedra Grijalva’s acknowledged masterpiece. This intimate, detailed, and keenly perceptive character study is all the more remarkable for the fact that the subject stands in profile with his back to the viewer.

  Usually identified as Sario Grijalva, a painter of minor talent, the man wears clothing in the style known as Ila Revvolucion in honor of the great revolution which, after many years of tribulation and war, freed Ghillas from the tyranny of kings and nobles. His profile reveals the rather bland face of a typical Tira Virteian native, black hair, dark eyes, with a bold Grijalva nose. But a different face is seen in the mirror—sharper of feature, darker of eye, complexion as brown as a Tza’ab tribesman’s.

  Many scholars have argued over the meaning of this painting. Does it represent the chi’patro origins of the Grijalvas? Does it allude to a dark tale of captivity and loss, as set down in lurid detail in the novel by Branwell Brontis and later adapted into an operetta by the Strassi brothers? Does the centuries’ difference in clothing suggest the modern man looking back to the unknowable past? Or does this painting, as some claim, express as allegory the Matra’s ability to distinguish the true heart of that man brave enough to look into the mirror of his soul?

  What makes the painting most affecting, and indeed its triumph as a work of art, is its surpassingly delicate use of light. The two candles in the windowless room have long since guttered out, the wicks cold and the melted wax solid in their iron stands. One of the two lamps is no longer burning, leaving Sario to contemplate the mirror by the light of a single lamp. Soon, the painter seems to suggest, this light, too, will fail, leaving him in utter darkness. What the man so captured thinks of this fate as he stares at his reflection we cannot, of course, ever know.

  i “ee”

  j “h” (as in junta); thus Grijalva is Gree-hal-vah

  ll “y” (as in mantilla); thus castello is kass-tay-oh; exception is Mechella (Meh-chel-ah)

  qu “kw” (as in quick); thus Mequel is Mrh-kwel

  z “dz”; thus Tazia is Tahd-zee-uh

  When in doubt, use Spanish rules.

  adezo “now”—ah-dayz-oh

  Al-Fansihirro “Art and Magic”; Tzaab term—Ahl-Fahn-see-hee-roh

  alla prima rapid painting completed in one session—ah-lah pree-mah

  amaniaja “tomorrow”—ah-man-nee-ah-hah

  arborro greenhouse, conservatory—ahr-bohr-oh

  arcana magic—ahr-cahn-ah

  arrtio “artist”—ahr-tee-oh

  atelierro “studio”—ah-tell-ee-air-oh

  azulejo rosette tiles; Grijalva symbol—ah-zoo-lay-ho

  bassda enough, silence, shut up—bahz-dah

  borrazca “storm”—bohr-azh-kah

  camponesso, camponessa “country person,” peasant—kam-po-nes-oh/ah

  chassarro “chase,” the hunt—shah-sahr-oh

  chi’patro “Who is the father?”, bastard—chee-pah-troh

  chiaroscuro the play of light and shadow in art—kee-are-oh-skoor-oh

  chiros, chiras “pig,” “sow”—chee-rohz/rahz

  Confirmattio “confirmation,” Proving—Kohn-feer-mah-tee-oh

  ’cordo “accord,” I agree, okay—kor-doh

  curatorrio “curator”—koor-ah-tohr-ee-oh

  do’nado “of nothing,” no problem—doh-nah-doh

  dolcho, dolcha “sweet”—dohl-choh/chah

  duennia chaperone—doo-en-ee-ah

  eiha “and so,” well, anyway—ay-ha

  en verro “in truth,” really—on vay-roh

  estudo, estuda “student”—ehs-too-doh/dah

  filho do’canna “son of a bitch”—feel-ho doh-kan-ah

  grazzo thanks, you’re welcome, and please—grahd-zoh

  guivaerra “jewel”—gwih-vay-rah

  Il Aguo “The Water”; Grijalva Master; counterparts are Il Seminno (Semen) and Il Sanguo (Blood)—Eel Ah-gwoh, Seh-mee-noh, Sahn-gwoh

  Kita’ab Tzaab holy book—Kih-tahb

  lingua merditta common vulgarisms, gutter language—leen-hwah mayr-dee-tah

  lingua oscurra “hidden language” of painting—oss-koor-uh

  lustrosso chandelier; lus-troh-so

  Luza do’Orro “Golden Light”; rare vision, genius—Loo-dzah doh’ Ohr-roh

  mallica lingua “wicked tongue,” sarcasm—mahl-lee-kah

  mareia unit of money—mah-ray-uh

  marrido “husband”—mah-ree-doh

  Menninos do’Confirmattio “Children born of Confirmattio”

  moualimo “teacher”—moo-ah-lee-moh

  nazha coloare “no color,” pencil drawing—nah-zhdh koh-loh-are-ay

  Neosso do’Orro “Gilded Youth”—Nee-oh-so doh-Or-ro

  Neosso Irrado “Angry Youth”—Ee-rahd-o

  Nommo “In the Name of the Golden Key”—

  Chieva do’Orro Nom-mo Chee-ay-vuh do-Or-ro

>   Nommo Matra ei Filho “In the Name of the Mother and Son”—Mah-trah ay Feel-ho

  Paraddio “lighted walk”—Pah-rahd-ee-oh

  Iluminadio Ee-loo-mee-nahi-dee-oh

  Paraddio Luminosso “torch walk”—Loo-mee-noh-soh

  Peintraddo Chieva “Key Painting,” discipline painting—Payn-trah-doh Chee-ay-vuh

  Peintraddo Memorrio “Memorial Painting”—Meh-mohr-ee-oh

  Peintraddo Morta “Death Painting”—Mohr-tuh

  Peintraddo Natalia “Birthday Painting”—Nah-tahl-ee-uh

  Peintraddo Sonho “Dream Painting”—Sohn-ho

  Qal Venommo “Poison Pen,” graffiti—Kahl Ven-nohm-oh

  reccolto “harvest”—reh-kohl-toh

  Saluto ei Suerta “Health and Luck”—Sah-loo-toh ay Swear-tuh

  Sihirro ei Sangua “Magic and Blood”—Sih-heer-oh ay Sang-gwah

  Tza’ab Rih Tzah-ahb Ree

  velurro “velvet”—veh-loor-oh

  Viehos Fratos “Old Brothers,” Limner Council—Vee-ay-hohs Frah-tohs

  zhi “yes”—zhee

  zia, zio “aunt,” “uncle”—zhee-ah/oh

  zocalo square, plaza—zoh-kahl-oh

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Russell (Agent Provocateur) Galen

  Danny (Mr. International) Baror

  Michael (Magic Fingers) Whelan

  and

  the fax machine at the Athens Gate Hotel, Athens, Greece

  —MR

  various overnight mail services

  —JR

  Howard Kerr, for artistic advice

  —KE

  Melanie Rawn

  “Rawn’s talent for lush descriptions and complex characterizations provides a broad range of drama, intrigue, romance and adventure.”

  —Library Journal

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  DAW 33