"No, he wasn't, nor particularly commercially successful. Talent doesn't always guarantee fame, unfortunately." He smiles wistfully. "He did a number of murals, and a few portraits for money, but he deserved better. I named the gallery after him. Hoping to give a few people the leg up he didn't get."

He pulls one of the sketches off the wall gently and holds it out to her. "He drew this when I was first talking to him. It's me."

The drawing is fluid and messy, a spiral of eyes and wings and lines representing flame. It conveys motion, though, and energy.