Van Gogh Reborn! - Chapter 53
The exhibition was just around the corner.
I left everything to grandpa and curator Bang Tae and only drew.
I should do my best in all exhibitions, but I wanted to capture all of my present self as it was, for my first solo exhibition.
I had a lot of worries.
What shape can express myself the best now?
Joy or bewilderment of a new life.
So much changes in the world and its wonders.
I looked and looked for a figure that would express my happiness in meeting grandpa.
The first thing that came to my mind was this house.
I thought there was nothing more perfect than this house as an object, that symbolized my feelings.
This place where I live with grandpa is the source of my happiness.
But I soon quit painting it.
I drew a foreground, a window and a front door separately, but I didn’t feel that they could convey my personal experiences and feelings to others.
I needed a link between me and the people who would come to the exhibition, and that’s how I started drawing food.
Let’s start with potato pizza.
The various foods cooked and bought by grandpa imply his love and this era.
At the same time, the people who come to see my paintings must have also had the same experience as me.
How happy would the children felt while eating pizza and chicken that their parents bought on their way home?
How happy it is to have a family dinner together with their parents.
Once a day, the joy of carefully choosing snack to eat is indescribable.
However, it is meaningless to just draw the potato pizza, black bean noodles, Fried chicken, and Mon Cheri as they are.
Just describing it realistically cannot bring out the emotions contained in it, so I put my feelings in things as before.
It’s time to get out of Vincent van Gogh’s style of painting.
For me, it’s a lesson.
If I draw it like before, I’m just a child who mimics the master’s of previous era.
Changes are needed.
The reason why [Sunflower] and [Guest] were loved was because I practiced ink painting and colored pencil painting, harmonizing with my existing style of painting.
It doesn’t matter how much I’m loved now.
I have no intention of complacency or being drunk on my reputation.
The miracle of life given again will not be just to comfort me.
It is a sin if I am drunk with the praises for Vincent van Gogh even though I have a rich environment, a friendly family, and a healthy body.
I’ll draw .
As I did at the age of 27, when I decided to walk the path of a painter.
I just put the letters of my soul written in brushes and paints in the mailbox named Exhibition.
⏩⏩⏩⏩⏩⏩
Saturday, February 26, 2028.
The WH Art Museum in Hannam, Seoul, was paralyzed.
This was because Ko Hun, who had drawn attention as a genius painter since last year, will be holding his first exhibition.
The museum was crowded with people who made art as a business, people who loved art, and people who were simply curious about what kind of paintings the young genius had painted.
Reporter Kim Jiwoo of Yehwa, a monthly magazine sighed while standing in the line.
“Haah. The line seems endless.”
The large site of the WH Art Museum was overshadowed.
People waiting for the entrance took over from the front of the museum to the street beyond the entrance of the site.
“How many are there?”‘
It was very unfamiliar sight.
At least during his career as a journalist, there has never been an exhibition in Korea, where people lined up like this.
“Isn’t it just 9:00 in the morning.?”
“Oh, it’s moving.”
“How much is the admission fee?”
“ It’s Free.”
“Really? Then how do they make money?”
“Some people buy paintings and there’ll be sponsors. Like a commercial. I don’t know either.”
“I should have gone to an art college. I would also have done an exhibition before you know it.”
Reporter Kim Jiwoo shone his eyes at the conversations of college students passing in front of him.
Besides them, most of the people who came seemed newbies, visiting an exhibition for the first time.
Nevertheless, the fact that so many people came was encouraging for the art world that had almost died.
‘Maybe.’
Kim Jiwoo thought that maybe the excellent genius named Ko Hun might revitalize the Art world.
‘No. He will’
Seeing the hope that the art world could revive, Kim Jiwoo’s heart filled with happiness.
Although he was just a reporter for a small magazine, he felt a sense of pride in being part of a history that might shook the entire Art world.
“Oh?”
Suddenly, a group of people came into his sight.
The center of them was a person with thick clear eyes, and a round mustache.
He could recognize the person he had only seen in photos and videos at a glance.
“It’s Pierre Malo!”
Pierre Malo, the sixth-generation owner of Chaton, Paris, France, was considered to have surpassed his predecessor, widely known as a frame craftsman, and was one of the master, whom painters from all over the world wanted to get their frames from.
While Kim Jiwoo was hesitating for a moment because he couldn’t speak French, reporters who were wandering around gathered like bees.
“Mr. Pierre Malo…. Is the rumors that you framed Ko Hun’s painting true.?”
“How are you related to Ko Hun?”
Pierre Malo’s entourage blocked access, but reporters poured out questions regardless.
Pierre Malo replied, touching his mustache with his fingers.
“I’m a big fan of Ko Hun. The rumors are true and it was such a pleasant experience to frame his painting.”
Reporters were more excited by Pierre Malo’s remarks.
Since a world-class craftsman recognized a genius boy in Korea, it was perfect for raising the number of article views.
“What was the drawing like?”
“Please tell us in detail what you thought highly of!”
Pierre Malo calmed the reporters,
“I don’t want to spoil the experience for those who haven’t seen his work.”
“Is it Artist Ko Sooyeol……”
A reporter shouted at Pierre Malo, who was about to leave.
“Did you frame Ko Hun’s painting, since it was request from artist Ko Sooyeol?”
At that moment, Pierre Malo stopped walking.
The relaxed smile on his face faded away.
“If not, please answer why you made a frame for Ko Hun.”
Pierre Malo turned his head and stared at the reporter who asked the question.
“tu es fou ou quoi”
(Are you crazy or something)
“What did he say?”
People who couldn’t understand French whispered in the chilly atmosphere.
The same was true of Kim Jiwoo.
“Seul l’art peut émouvoir mes mains et mon cœur. Pas d’argent ou de personnes”
(Only Art can move my hands and heart. Not money or people)
“ma bonne humeur est gâchée grâce à vous. allons-y”
(My pleasant mood got ruined thanks to you…Let’s go.)
Pierre Malo moved his feet with his entourage.
Kim Jiwoo, who could not miss this opportunity when no one could step up to Pierre Malo’s cold attitude, stepped out of the gap and shouted.
“Mr. Pierre Malo.”
Pierre Malo did not look back.
Kim Jiwoo didn’t give up and asked.
“Have you seen hope in Ko Hun painting.? Have you been encouraged?”
asked Kim Jiwoo eagerly, hoping he would understand even though he spoke in English, not French.
“Were you able to make a frame that doesn’t outshine Ko Hun’s painting?”
For Kim Jiwoo, Ko Hun was the hope.
Ko Hun was the strength for him to rise again and the courage to wait for tomorrow no matter how hard and difficult it was.
No matter how great a craftsman Pierre Marlowe is, if he doesn’t make Ko Hun’s painting stand out, Kim Jiwoo thought that it would be of no use if Ko Hun.
“Did you make the right frame.?”
Pierre Malo turned his head.
He pulled on his mustache with a cold, unmatched expression.
“I’m here to check it out.”
Malo replied a small smile to Kim Jiwoo.
Feeling overwhelmed by the thought that Pierre Malo had answered, he stretched out the recorder with excitement.
Journalists who were deprived of interviews felt angry for being overtaken by a small magazine reporter.
The world’s best craftsman came to find an exhibition of a boy who was only 11 years old, and the article went to the hands of a small time reporter.
“Even if he don’t have the sense, it’s stupid. What do you want me to do?”
“Even though we are reporters, we must uphold morality. What the hell were you thinking?”
Reporters blamed the man who had irritated Pierre Malo.
At that moment, they wondered if they should do an insider coverage now that their article got taken away.
“It’s Richard Phillips!”
Before they could finish their thought Richard Phillips appeared before them.
Pineapple’s chief product designer, who occupied 19.1% of the global smartphone market, visited the WH Art Museum following the Marceau Gallery.
While pouring out questions to him, reporters who were pushed back had to move without regret.
Before the reporters could catch a break, they saw Jang Mirae, Korea’s leading Artist and rushed towards her to get an answer.
“Professor Jang Mirae. We’re from NBC! Is it true that you are Ko Hun’s teacher?”
Reporters who discovered Jang Mirae competed fiercely for interviews.
“How did you help Ko Hun for today’s exhibition?”
“What kind of painting did Ko Hun draw.?”
Jang Mirae replied with a smile.
“What do you mean, teacher? Not at all. Hun and I are learning from each other.”
The most popular Artist in Korea and a professor at the College of Fine Arts at Korea University said something unbelievable.
They knew Ko Hun was a genius, but Jang Mirae, along with Henry Marceau, was considered a great Genius of the current Art world.
When she said she was in a position to teach and learn from an 11-year-old child, it was unbelievable for everyone.
“Excuse me for being late.”
Reporters tried to ask for one more question, but it was useless.
Employees from the WH Art Museum came out and guarded Jang Mirae, so they were unable to get any closer.
Then suddenly, the reporters heard screams of several people from behind.
The astonished reporters turned around.
There they saw a foreigner in silver-gray suit and a reddish-brown tie was fixing his sunglasses.
“Oh, Henry Marceau!”
Henry Marceau, the most followed icon of the Art world and at the same time a troublemaker, visited Ko Hun once again.
This is the third time following the Seoul Art Museum and the Marceau Gallery.
There has never been an artist he so interested, as he was a well-known narcissist.
“What the hell is happening?”
“ Is this really the first exhibition? What a parade of high-profile visitors…”
“Isn’t that Martin Janssens?.”
“ Chairman Janssens. What…where..?”
The front of the WH Art Museum became full of celebrities, and people who could never been seen at a same place, and reporters.
Henry Marceau, who watched it, frowned and complained.
“Why the f*ck should I have to walk in such a crowd?”
“I’m sorry El Patron. It was inevitable since vehicles were restricted from entering.”
“Why the f*ck are they doing it in such a cramped up place ?”
Henry Marceau complained, while waving his hands to those cheering crowd.
“Henry Henry..! I’m a big fan! Please give me your autograph!”
One of them showed him a sketchbook and pencil.
Henry Marceau stared at her and the sketchbook, and said,
“Do you know how much my autograph is?”
“Ah….”
“Give me your phone.”
“Yes, yes?”
“Give it to me.”
When the student took out her smartphone in panic, Henry Marceau, who was receiving it, swept his head to the side and operated the self-camera.
The student, half-hugged by him, stamped her feet and was at a loss of words.
“What do you do?”
“Kyaa….Henry spoke to me. What should I do….????”
“Do you do art?”
“Yes…Yes..yes I go to Art School.”
Henry nodded casually and turned after throwing the smartphone towards the excited fan.
“ Thank you..Thank you so much…I will preserve it as a heirloo….”
Reporters rushed in before the student could finish her words.
“Henry Marceau! What’s your relationship with Ko Hun?”
“Did you come to buy Ko Hun’s work again this time?”
“What do you think about the rumors of your discord with Ko Hun?”
Reporters quickly blocked him.
As they poured out questions and put the microphone in front of his eyes, Henry raised one eyebrow.
“Get the f*ck out.”
