Van Gogh Reborn! - Chapter 55
It seems like he was speaking in a language I had never heard of.
Looking at Bang Tae, he whispered to me that he was an art critic from Japan.
The word Tanaka Hirobumi seems like his name.
“I couldn’t see many works since I just came, but the work [Happiness] was impressive.”
It’s my first time seeing a Japanese person in-person.
“You’ve effectively expressed the texture of chocolate by applying a lot of paint. I could even feel the rhythm of the melting chocolate.”
Maybe it’s just him, but it felt like the Japanese language has a very unique accent.
I want someone to interpret, but for now, I listened to him while looking at him.
“But I guess I can’t help but feel it as a bit amateurish..”
“I’m afraid my expectations are too great. Are you nine or ten..? I’m sure it’s a wonderful talent. I’m looking forward to seeing you mature mentally in about 20 years.”
Even when I first saw Korean painting, culture seems to shine.
If I didn’t see Ukiyoe, it would have taken time for me to use a colors close to the primary colors as a form to express my emotions.
If I haven’t encountered Korean painting, I wouldn’t have able to paint [Sunflower] or the many works prepared for today.
‘What’s wrong with the atmosphere?’
Whenever Tanaka Hirofumi continues to talk, everyone’s faces become stiff.
In particular, grandpa, Aunt Mirae, and Bang Tae look at him contemptuously with firm expressions.
They seems to understand Japanese.
Pierre Malo, Michelle Platini, Rich bully, mainly the French people who are not interested in foreign languages looked fine.
“I came looking forward, hearing that a Genius Artist is born in Korea, but when I checked today, it was a genius Shokaratier, not a genius painter.”
He finished his speech.
I was wondering what he was talking about, so I immediately opened my mouth.
“I’d like have an interpreter, please.”
I don’t know why, but Bang Tae, who was very angry, kept glaring at Tanaka Hirofumi and didn’t seem to have heard what I said.
Tanka Hirofumi showed an irritated face and asked looking at me
“Didn’t you understand what I said?”
“ Yes. I don’t know Japanese.”
When I shrugged and said that, the people in the audience started laughing.
“It was French.”
“What?”
French….?
Was he talking in French….Is there a new French language that I haven’t heard of
“I’m very disappointed. You’ve been criticized, and you can’t accept it. So you are pretending you didn’t heard it. Is this immature artist’s painting really worth millions of euros?”
Tanaka Hirofumi spoke again.
I really can’t understand the French he was talking..
Is the accent too strong.
“What’s wrong with that f*cker..?”
When I looked at the guest room Grandpa was about to rush here and was being stopped by Aunt Mirae and other college students.
I asked him just in case.
“Je suis désolé. parlais-tu vraiment en français?”
(I’m sorry. Were you really speaking in French?)
Tanaka Hirofumi opened his eyes wide.
It seems like, he really was talking in French.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t understand since the accent was too strong. The intonation was also unique, so could you please repeat it step by step.”
This time, his face turned red.
I asked him as politely as possible, but I don’t know why he’s so angry.
“ What you said…It’s very rude. Do you return legitimate criticism with an insult in Korea.?”
A young man who seems to have come along with Tanaka Hirofumi spoke the words in somewhat broken French.
“How could you let a rude immature child do an exhibition in the first place.? Instead of trying to become a painter why don’t you try becoming Shokaratier?”
His pronunciation was better than Tanaka Hirofumi, but I don’t understand what that word shokara…something means.
“You are such a mannerless child. I would like to see the faces of the parents who didn’t even teach basic manners to their chil..…”
“Shut your F*cking mouth.”
Henry Marceau stood up, while digging his ears with his little finger.
“If you’re going to use our language, do it properly.”
“What the f*ck is Shoko Lulatier ?”
“Shoko Lulatier.. Shokorura Thier!”
“What. There is no such word in French?”
“Shokorato!”
The young man repeatedly shouted, and Henry Marceau wrinkled his face as if he had stepped on a dog’s faeces.
Then he jumped up from his seat and approached the young man and Tanaka Hirofumi.
Reporters started bursting their cameras excitedly.
“Hey, you guys…instead of coming to exhibition why don’t you begin from here….try it…”
“Hahahahahahahhahahahhahahh.”
Henry handed over a sketch book, and several people in the audience started laughing loud.
Reporters bite their lips and endured their laugh.
I’m frustrated since I don’t know what’s going on.
When the two Japanese were shaking as if they had been subjected to a very big insult, Pierre Malo, stood up while pulling his beard and went near the three of them.
“Did you say Chocolatier?”
“No way.”
Henry Marceau, who heard that got shocked even before Tanaka Hirofumi and the young man.
“It’s not Shokaratier…Follow me, it’s Cho-co-la-tier.”
I listened carefully and understood that they were angry because of chocolate.
I wondered if they didn’t get the chocolate we prepared since there were too many people.
Bang Tae also said he didn’t know that this many people would come, so he didn’t prepare enough.
They are also fellows like me who loved chocolates.
I can understand their anger, I would also have got angry if I didn’t get my favourite Mon Cheri chocolate.
“Hun?”
I got up from my seat and approached Tanaka Hirofumi, who was trembling.
“Here, Take this.”
I said, taking out the Mon Cheri chocolate I had saved for later.
“We didn’t expect so many people to come. I’m sorry, we couldn’t give you chocolate since we didn’t prepare enough. It’s not because we ignored you. So don’t get angry.”
I took his hand and placed the chocolate in his hand.
I didn’t forget to hug him with sincerity.
“What’s going on?”
“What did he give him?”
“Isn’t it chocolate?”
“Chocolate? Why chocolate all of a sudden?”
“Well. Aren’t they mad because they didn’t get it?”
Mutters in Korean and English filled the room, but everyone seems to have understood the situation.
“Hahahaha.”
Starting with someone’s laugh, the hall became a sea of laughter.
Not knowing what to say, the two Japanese people looked around, and Henry Marceau asked with the left corner of his mouth slightly up.
“Is this how you do it?”
“What ?”
“Publicly screwing them.”
“I’ve never done anything like that. Marceau, don’t ruin my exhibition. Hello, Ms. Platini. Thank you for coming.”
“Hi Hun. The paintings were so refreshing. I’m looking forward for the next room.”
While I was talking to Henry Marceau and Michelle Platini, Tanaka Hirofumi and his party hurriedly left.
I’ll have to prepare more thoroughly next time.
Thanks to the laugh, the stiff atmosphere got lightened.
⏩⏩⏩⏩⏩⏩
Questions from visitors and reporters continued, and the meeting with Artist ended without much trouble.
“Lastly, we’ll reveal Exhibition Room 4.”
At the peak of visitors’ expectations, the museum staff pulled out the curtains.
They saw [Frosty wheat field] in front of them.
Some breathed in.
Some closed their mouths and opened their eyes wide, while others moved their feet without realizing.
“ OH MY GOD ”
Art historian Caroline Streak was dumbfounded.
She highly evaluated Ko Hun only with his previous work, but as soon as she witnessed [Frost Wheat Field], her reasoning got paralyzed.
It was an overwhelming feeling.
The rushing wind felt so cold that it felt like the paint that expressed it seemed frozen.
Only traces of a fierce struggle remained on the Wheat field.
The only thing left at the expense of so many young men who fought to protect what was precious was the frozen Earth.
The land of grace, where life was supposed to grow, was stained with blood and frost.
A wheat field in the middle of winter where the black and blue night sky and the wind felt like despair.
“It’s warm.”
The gently shining frosty wheat fields could not be so sublime.
Even though the Earth was torn apart and ruined by winter and snow, they were standing on their feet and holding out for the future, where the wheat would grow.
“It’s been a while since such a painting…”
Modern people were living in the era of decline of painting.
The destruction of tradition, which began with the emptiness of war, spread uncontrollably.
Artists focused on denying the history of paintings that tens of thousands of painters have continued.
So the painting lost its narrative.
They lost the ability to communicate.
In the meantime, there were some outstanding figures, but painting gradually degenerated into a means of attracting attention, not the value of the painting itself.
It was because of the wealth that followed it.
There were Millet, Van Gogh, who showed the world what true art meant to be and it felt like Ko Hun is following them as if connecting the history of painting that had got cut off.
’It’s the experience of stumbling to new things that makes me happy’
Art historian Caroline Streak nodded her head involuntarily, recalling the words of Ko Hun.
She recalled an article a few months ago that Ko Hun had traveled to various museums in Europe.
“This child….”
She said confidently.
“An artist who will continue the history of painting like Edouard Manet and Claude Monet has finally appeared.”
‘Van Gogh, Gauguin, Cezanne, and Renoir were convinced that there will always be a person who will appear and lead the magnificent flow of Art, as did Lautrec, Picasso, Duchamps, and Dali.’
“Their words were true. A person did arrive.”
Meanwhile, young master Henry Marceau was no different from Caroline.
He felt the same throbbing of the heart when he saw Vincent van Gogh’s [Starry Night] for the first time.
The tremor that came up the spine spread all over his body, and the hair of his whole body stood up.
His overwhelmed heart shook, pupils dilated, and hands trembled.
For Henry Marceau, the art world was a pathetic place.
It was a place full of fakes and filled with people who only wanted to make money by any way possible.
Very few painters, like Edward Hopper, Win Homer, Ko Sooyeol, and Jang Mirae, kept their pride as painters.
Henry Marceau thought highly of them, but could not find what he wished for in them.
He went around the world looking for the work that would put off the his burning thirst for Art, but no work satisfied him.
Henry Marceau spent a long time exploring what he wanted.
He tried to get to know himself by drawing a self-portrait, but he could not find a single work that would quench his thirst for Art.
Then he encountered a sunflower.
He felt, perhaps the artist who painted the picture could satisfy the Art he was longing for.
He didn’t expect he would find it so soon.
Henry Marceau clenched his fist while watching [Frosty Wheat Field].
“This is it”
He didn’t cheat himself any more.
He was moved by a 10-year-old boy.
The 10-year-old boy proudly showed off the noble painter Henry Marceau’s lifelong search at his first exhibition.
Henry Marceau felt the difference in talent.
But his desire for Art could not be easily extinguished.
He was not a man who could live with his pride hurt.
Henry Marceau, an artist who had finally found his goal, was burning with passion more than ever.
