Van Gogh Reborn! - Chapter 48

It is highly likely that he was killed for portraying a woman as ugly.

Even if it is not Yvette Guilbert herself, her parents will not let go of the Lautrec, who painted their daughter like a demon.

At that time, duelling culture still remained, and there were often people who fired a pistol when they felt that they were wronged.

Grandpa, who laughed for a long time, nodded his head.

“It would have happened. This person’s mother tried to sue Lautrec.”

“ What do you mean by barely suing? He drew an elegant and cultured person like this.”

It doesn’t make sense to just sue.

“Grandpa…..You said her mother tried to sue…. Does that mean that they didn’t sue him.?”

“Right.”

Did Lautrec pay for some kind of an agreement?

Even if he was insulated from his parents, he would have been able to pay the settlement money since he had a castle full of money.

“There will be a few more, so let’s take a look and think about it.”

Grandpa’s words made sense.

Thinking about it……..

It seemed like some kind of trick is hidden.

I searched Toulouse Lautrec Yvette Guilbert.

It is a painting called [Yvette Guilbert greeting the audience].

“Look here Grandpa. He is just making fun of her”

“Hahahahahhah”

I can’t believe Lautrec hated Yvette Guilbert this much.

I’ve drawn some people I hated like this a few times, but I wonder if there’s a need to draw like this.

I’m scared.

It feels like it’ll come out in my dreams.

I can’t even get a sense of how much settlement money would have been paid.

“Did she really look like this?”

“No. No, it’s not.”

Grandpa didn’t stop laughing.

I don’t know what’s so funny.

Again, I looked at [Yvette Guilbert greeting the audience].

If you drew a popular singer at that time like this, there are only two reasons.

One, he had a death wish.

Two, he intended to express that the singer’s sincerity is not in her appearance.

Even if they loved her music, which fan would hang a poster like this?

I wonder how well she sang.

“Haah Haaah.”

It felt like Grandpa was about to run out of breath, and when he rubbed his back, he slowly calmed down.

“Oh.oh..I laughed to my heart’s content after a long time.”

Grandpa took out a handkerchief and wiped around his eyes.

I wonder if it’s something to laugh with tears.

“ Grandpa. Why didn’t they sue him.?”

“ It’s because she became famous because of this poster, so they couldn’t do it. In the end, it helped singer Yvette Guilbert’s success a lot.”

That does make sense now.

No matter how outstanding her skill was, it would have been difficult to make the audience come, so she must have relied on Lautrec While grinding her teeth.

“It’s said that her parents withdrew and asked him to draw their daughter a little prettier…But?”

“He refused.”

“ Right.”

As expected of my friend Lautrec, loved his Art more than anything.

“Yvette Guilbert was a really great singer. she was from the slums, and she sincerely expressed her experience and the lives of the slums. She wrote the lyrics of her song in that era. She was the one who popularised Chanson music genre.”

It was an environment where slums dwellers could never succeed.

I can’t believe a woman born in such a place succeeded by writing and singing her own lyrics.

In addition, it is incredible that she established her own music style.

Even more, I want to listen to Yvette Guilbert’s song.

I did understood Lautrec’s intentions.

If an artist from the Royal Academy of Art painted her, they would have probably drawn her very beautifully.

White skin, thin waist, big chest……

However, Lautrec recognized her real charm, not such an ideological standard of beauty.

Maybe Yvette Guilbert misunderstood at first like me, but later learned about Lautrec’s sincerity and moved on.

“He drew so many women like this. The woman named Jeanne Abril, whom we saw a while ago, also lived a strange life.”

Lautrec was a friend who drew the people, who were often not looked upon, breaking himself out of the aristocratic society.

I fully understand what my Grandpa said.

“He was abandoned by his parents and grew up alone. He consulted a doctor because of severe depression, and he was advised him to learn how to dance. Then he enjoyed dancing on stage. The tragedy was sublimated into dance. Do you know the word sublimation?”

When I nodded, grandpa gave me a suspicious look.

“Did your dad taught you that….?”

“Hmm.…?”

“Yeah. Anyway, let’s go in now.”

I held grandpa’s hand and thought as I entered the Museum.

At that time, numerous artists resisted the existing power-making style.

However, they could not withstand the harsh gaze of the critics.

The critics did not give good reviews, so the collectors did not want to buy their works, and they struggled to make a living.

Only a few painters were able to survive in such an environment, and most of them died miserably like me.

For us, women at that time were objects of empathy.

The women who lived fiercely to survive in the suppressed environment and the painters who were thoroughly excluded were particularly compassionate and caring for each other.

So did I, and so did Toulouse Lautrec.

I pay tribute to a friend who eventually gained popularity after walking on his own path without changing even after my death.

I remembered the great Rembrandt who died while experiencing financial hardship because he did not paint as the client wanted.

Lautrec, who gained a lot of popularity by giving a view of himself that even the client himself did not know.

Lautrec has already clearly solved the concerns of numerous artists who have no choice but to worry between art and livelihood, and my worries now, a100 years ago.

What a clever and playful painter he is.

I am so proud of him.

Thinking about what kind of painting of the friend will be displayed here, my heart beats

⏩⏩⏩⏩⏩⏩

Ko Sooyeol felt good seeing his grandson, who laughed a lot.

When his grandson was in the hospital, he felt like the world seemed to have collapsed, but now happiness filled his heart whenever he saw his grandson laugh.

Ko Sooyeol had worried that his grandson might have become emotionally dull due to the shock of the accident, but when he saw him laughing looking at Toulouse Lautrec’s painting, he was no different from a child of his age.

Still……There were many dubious things.

He loved him so much and he didn’t cared about such things since he found him cute, but he knew that Ko Hun’s action, sometimes seemed too mature for a child.

The way he think and the way he draws.

As for the work related to Vincent van Gogh, he spoke out what no one had never thought of, even those who had studied Van Gogh their entire life.

He hadn’t seen his grandson for a long time after having a big argument with his daughter Hae, but he kept receiving news about his grandson from his son-in-law, Lee Soojin.

Lee Soojin told him, his grandson’s story whenever Ko Sooyeol felt curious about his grandson, including photos, videos, and what Ko Hun did that day.

It was only fragmentary news, so he didn’t know exactly what he was like, but he looked a little smart compared to his peers.

It wasn’t the same as it is now.

Questions grew through the process of revealing the truth of Vincent van Gogh’s death and the [Frost Wheat Field].

At first, he doubted that his daughter Hae had been too strict about educating his grandson, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

‘Then why..…’

Ko Sooyeol rubbed his chin while thinking, and at that moment…

“Grandpa Grandpa. Eat this. It’s Cheese…… how can cheese be so sweet?”

Ko Hun, who ate fondue with several cheeses at that time, recommended the food.

The child, who was laughing and chatting while looking at the Toulouse Lautrec painting, opened his eyes wide and was excited when he ate fondue.

Looking at his bright face, Ko Sooyeol smiled.

“Okay. Should I try it, too?”

⏩⏩⏩⏩⏩⏩

The next day.

I couldn’t sleep properly because I was curious about what kind of frame Pierre Malo made.

I tossed and turned all night and fell asleep at dawn.

“What’s wrong with your eyes Little Hun.? Are you all right.?”

“Yes grandpa.”

The bread served for the breakfast was delicious.

Freshly baked.

Although my eyelids were heavy, I can’t give up the butter scent and soft texture that spreads smoothly in my mouth.

It’s so good just to eat bread, but how tasty would it be to put jam on it?

As I yawned while applying strawberry jam, grandpa shook his head and said.

“Eat and sleep more. Let’s go pick up the frame at lunch.”

“ NO…I’m fine.”

“What do you mean you are fine? Now that I see it, you couldn’t sleep because of the frame. Right..?”

“ Hmm.”

I’m getting more sleepy after having breakfast.

I washed my face with cold water and drove out my sleep.

Wearing a fur hat and a thick coat, I urged grandpa.

“You’re impatient, Fine let’s go.”

As I stepped outside, a fierce wind hit my face.

It is chilly even though I was heavily armed with earplugs, mufflers, and fur gloves.

Thanks to the cold wind, I came to my senses.

“Can we have an exhibition when we go back to Korea?”

“Well, let’s talk to curator Bang Tae. As long as the number of works is not too small, there will be no big problem.”

“How many works do you need?”

“Nothing has been decided, but there are usually four walls. It’s not good to leave one side empty or to have a wide gap between works.”

Definitely.

I think that will give the impression that there are few works.

“We have to talk to curator Bang Tae, but you’d better think about preparing at least 12 works.”

That’s enough.

There have been many sketches so far, so I just have to draw them.

When I go back to Korea, I think I should put off studying and focus on oil painting first.

It’s my first individual exhibition, so I want to show as many pictures as possible.

As I walked with such thoughts, I quickly reached Chaton.

It is a splendid building even if you visit a second time.

There was a familiar person when I pushed the door with joy.

“Oh, Hun.”

I wondered where I saw her, and it seems it was Michelle Platini, chief curator of Marceau Gallery.

“Hello.”

“Are you here alone? Oh, you came with your grandfather.”

“Hello.”

Michelle Platini, who also greeted grandpa, squatted down and looked at me.

“Are you here to buy a frame?”

“Yes, I’m here to find it.”

Michelle opened her eyes wide.

“I guess you’ve already drawn a picture. What’s the picture this time?”

“I drew Auvers wheat field.”

“Auvers-sur-oise?”

“Yes.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Will you invite me when you exhibit it?”

“Of course.”

I promised with joy.

Thanks to the good exhibition of [Guest], I sold it for a lot of money, and they didn’t take off the fee, so I only enjoyed the benefits.

I can invite them as much as they want.

“Why did you come here Ms. Platini?”

“I’m too here to find a frame.”

“Hahaha.”

Even before Michelle could finish speaking, I heard Henry Marceau’s laughter.

He walked out of the room with Pierre Malo.

“Oh, Sir Ko Sooyeol and Little Van Gogh, I’ve been waiting for you.”

When Pierre Malo came out and recognized me and grandpa, Henry Marceau opened his eyes wide and turned away his head as if he was embarrassed.