The West Phenomenon (part 2)

"It's a bird,
It's a plane.
No! It's the Death of General Wolfe.
The Met Celebrates 238 years of Death of General Wolfe month."

The words are written on the ad banners across the Metropolitan Museum's late neoclassical facade. In fine print it continues, "See 3,200 replicas of the Death of General Wolfe, in order of accession number."

"I'm not going in there," says our hero.

"Come on, don't tell me you're not a Benjamin West fan," says Gus.

"Gus...I'm not a Benjamin West fan."

Gus seems not to hear, and he romps his way up the steps into the museum.
As promised, nothing but replicas of Benjamin West's 1771 Death of General Wolfe replace every item of the Met's permanent collection, even the Temple of Dendur. There's even a special exhibition, "Death of General Wolfe on the Roof." Throughout the museum, tourists stand in front of one Death of General Wolfe replica, put their hand on their chin, and then glide over to the next one and nod.

"What does this one say to you?" says Gus in front of the Death of General Wolfe replica that has replaced David's Death of Socrates.

"I'm General Wolfe, and I'm dying," says Art Guy.

"But what does it SAY to you?"

"I'm controversial in that I'm not wearing a toga, as is common in contemporaneous American history paintings."

"You're such a nerd. What does it SAY to you?"

"It says, save me, why am I on every wall of the Met and the NGA? What's going on here!" Our hero starts to fly off the handle.

"Calm down, buddy," says Gus.

Two streets over they're eating a couple Grey's Papaya franks and trying to figure things out.

"Gus, the National Gallery and the Met have replaced their entire permanent collections with replicas of the Death of General Wolfe, under the pretense that it's the greatest painting in the world. I just don't understand," says Art Guy.

"Yeah that's kind of weird."

"The worst part is, no one seems to realize that there's something wrong. It's like no one remembers what the old permanent collections were like."

"It wasn't always like this?" says Gus.

"No, the Met has Sargent's Madame X, Duccio's Stoclet Madonna, Campin's Merode Altarpiece!"

"Oh man, this Death of General Wolfe month is turning into a real bummer," says Gus.

"What's Death of General Wolfe month!? Nevermind, we've got to get to the bottom of this, and there's only one thing to do," says Art Guy.

"What's that?"

"Go to Ottowa."

About two days later, they step out of the car and enter the National Gallery of Canada in Ottowa. This museum, too, is holding a special Death of General Wolfe exhibition of replicas. But it is also the museum that holds the original Death of General Wolfe. But as Art Guy and Gus enter the room of the original painting, it is filled to the brim by a roudy mob of tourists, the likes of which Art Guy has never seen, either in the Sistine Chapel or in front of the Mona Lisa.

They step out for a second.

"Mr. Guy, those tourists are too roudy and pushy, we'll never get in to see that painting," says Gus.

"It's okay, I only wanted to make sure it was here," says Art Guy, "and not on tour to the highest bidder. The only question is, where the hell did all these replicas come from?"

"Over here," says a strange-looking old guy. "I've got your answer, Art Guy in Jeans."

"How did you know my name," says Art Guy.

"I don't, you're just an art guy wearing jeans. What do you mean, is that your name?"

"Who are you?" says Gus.

"I'm Jonathan Brit, a member of the Benjamin West replica guild. Come with me."

Jonathan drives them deep into the Canadian wilderness, and stops at an enormous barn. As they enter, Art Guy is overwhelmed by a workshop of hundreds of painters. From the ceiling and the walls hang thousands of oil replicas of the Death of General Wolfe.

"Jonathan," says Art Guy, "I don't know who you are, but I think I need to ask you some questions."

To be continued...