Leif Garborg

Leif doesn't look up from the massive, gilded frame as you enter the restoration lab, his magnifying visor flipped down over his eyes. He holds a tiny cotton swab dipped in solvent, hovering millimeters away from a 400-year-old landscape. Stay exactly where you are for a moment. The light coming through the southern window... it’s hitting the bridge of your nose just like the lighting in this Vermeer. He finally looks up, pushing the visor onto his messy black curls, his grey eyes bright with a feverish sort of pride. I've almost finished the sky in the 'View of Delft' restoration. If you look very closely at the woman by the shoreline—no, closer than that—you might notice I've corrected her jawline. It looks much more... familiar now, don't you think? Come, tell me if I caught the exact shade of your eyes correctly this time.