Claudia tells Fina what an art critic said about her photographs

Well, Claudia, tell me, what did you think?

Of what? Well, the one that's going to be the exhibition.

Oh, it was wonderful, just wonderful. Well, the wine was delicious. Claudia, that's not what I'm asking you.

I'm asking you about the photographs, what you thought of them.

Uh, um, um, very different from the ones you put here in, in the neighborhood, right?

Like— Yes. Like more experimental, right?

Huh? Like the subject is way in the background, right?

But come on, did you like them or not? Um. Uh— Claudia. Claudia, please, we're friends.

You can be completely honest with me. Of course, you know, Fina, I don't know anything about art.

You didn't like them. No, I didn't say that, okay?

I said, well... They were a little weird, right?

As far as I understand it, art is there to express yourself, not to be liked.

Exactly, exactly. Yeah, but if what I do doesn't get through or isn't understood, then, to me, it's a failure.

No, for God's sake, everyone there was happy, saying lovely things.

The only one I heard say anything bad was this guy who was dressed…

Who? A man. A man wearing a scarf. That one.

He looked like he pissed cologne. Claudia, that's Vicente Sastre, the art critic I just told you about.

Well, I don't think so. There were, there were lo-lots of people dressed weirdly like that, you know?

And what did he say? Uh, I don't know, I wasn't paying attention.

Claudia. Mmm. It's just that I don't remember exactly, Fina. Please, Claudia, what did he say?

Well, he said…

That it had no soul and lacked rigor. I don't know, Fina, just really pretentious things. I didn't quite catch it.

And was he standing in front of one of my photos?

No, no. Look, I was walking around over there, come on, I could be talking about anyone.

Claudia, can we have coffee at another time, please?

Oh, Fina, darling. Forgive me, Miguel.

Fina.