Chapter 66
Chapter 66
I dont know what he want to do by meeting with me.
Why did he want to meet me uncle Bang.?
He seems to have said that he has a favor to ask you, so he would like to talk to you about that in detail tomorrow."
Uncle Bang showed an e-mail on his smartphone.
Director Christine Nolan's letter to the WH Art Museum account was quite polite and cultured.
Grandpa, who saw it with me, breathed out a small sigh.
Mr. Bang. Schedule a meeting at tomorrow afternoon. Hun will come to the WH Art museum on his way from school."
Yes.and
Of course, you should also take part in the meeting."
Uncle Bang nodded at grandpa's words.
Uncle Bang left the house again, and soon the potato pizza arrived.
I washed my hands and took a big bite with reverence.
"Grandpa."
What little Hun.?
"What do you think about today grandpa.?
Grandpa hesitated for a while.
Good. What do you feel Hun.?
Grandpa said without expressing his true feelings.
Maybe he doesnt want to ruin my mood.
I am confused grandpa.
Grandpa squeezed garlic sauce on the pizza.
Where should I start?
Grandpa brought out my honest feelings.
Keep going.
"I'm glad that my painting got sold at a high price. I don't have to worry about eating and living."
I put down the pizza I was holding.
But at the same time, I also wish that more people could look at my paintings. I want to prove that nothing is wrong with paintings that can communicate and empathize with the audience. I want to talk to more people through my paintings,"
Grandpa nodded and I continued.
Doesnt this feels Wrong. One painting of an elementary school kid costs 16.3 billion won, while 100 million won is enough to hire an outstanding person for a year. Is my work really worth the amount of money that a person should earn by working and saving for 163 years.?
Grandpa also put down his pizza.
After a brief moment of pause, grandpa started talking with a soft voice.
Little Hun is really smart."
..
"Let's talk about one thing first."
I nodded.
"Some Artists are mistaken. It's a case where they deceive themselves by believing that they're doing art."
I'll have to listen a little more to understand.
I have never thought I was doing art. I'm a painter not an artist."
A painter.
I think I know what my grandfather wants to say little by little.
"Who do you think makes art?"
"The audience."
Grandfather opened his eyes wide and laughed quietly.
"That's what Grandpa also thinks. Art is not decided by an artist or critic, but by the person who feels it."
At the same time as my grandfather, I also took a bite of pizza.
"Do you remember the time when I refused selling my painting to Henry Marceau.?
Yes grandpa."
At first, I thought he didn't want to sell it, but grandpa didn't sell a single painting in the past nine months, compared to his reputation.
Not only to Henry Marceau, but also to others who wanted his paintings.
"I hate that jerk, but that's not the only reason."
Grandpa moistened his throat with coke.
"When I was young, I was just happy when I saw rich people going crazy about my paintings and buying them for millions and billions of dollars. But, you know what? I couldn't find where the painting I had drawn at that time went."
Maybe, Collectors are hiding it in their homes. Or, as in the past, paintings may have been used as a means of speculation or tax evasion.
For those who have power and money, painting is just a small amount of money.
"My reputation has grown, and people who want to buy my paintings are ready to give me more money. But none of them have actually seen my paintings. People didn't talk about my paintings, they just wondered how much my paintings were sold and who bought them. I felt something was wrong."
Grandpa put down the pizza.
I closed my eyes and shook my head.
I felt remorse from that appearance.
"Hun, Grandpa thinks there are great paintings, but there are no great painters."
There is no great painter.
"Since the subject of art lies with the audience. Art is not about doing it. It works."
As soon as I heard the long agony that grandpa expressed, I couldn't say anything.
"It's only when the person who sees the painting recognizes it as art, it becomes valuable."
I forgot to nod my head, and just looked at grandpa.
Of course, you have to make money. Since we have to make a living. But we are painters. A person who tells a story with his painting and stories doesnt become complete with out a listener
It wouldnt have been yesterday or today.
Grandpa must have agonized over this dilemma all his life.
While being delighted by the soaring reputation and price of paintings, his paintings disappear somewhere.
People praise him without even knowing what he had drawn.
Grandpa must have struggled with all these thoughts.
But a question popped in my head.
If he was going through all this, then why did he allow me to auction my paintings for the past few months.
"Why didn't you tell me grandpa?"
When I asked grandpa, he took slice of pizza and brought it to my mouth.
"It's easy to simply convey experience and knowledge in words. But it's hard to feel from the perspective unless you experience it yourself."
This is the case with the teachings of parents, teachers, and seniors.
I know it's right and good, but it wouldnt have reached me.
"You have to experience it. I don't know what's going to happen, but Hun might give a different answer than his grandpa."
Grandpa wiped my mouth with a cloth after I ate the pizza he gave me and continued.
"If you want to sell your paintings at a high price, you can. Tens of thousands of painters can't do that, so they live hungry. No one will say anything to you."
I drank the water grandpa handed to me.
"But if If you just like to draw and enjoy painting, I hope you experience many things in the future. I'll show you everything that this grandpa had seen, and I'll tell you all the things that this grandpa had heard, but you have to look for it yourself, you have to find it yourself A way for you to enjoy drawing."
Enjoy.
The word which has so many meanings.
Draw what I want to draw, and to be able to communicate with people and not kneel.
That also means not to sell the painting at a high price to those who visit the auction house.
In fact, I've earned an unimaginable amount of money now, but thanks to this, I don't have any work to display at the Whitney Biennale.
I don't know where my painting is displayed, from [Sunflower] to [Guest] to [Frost Wheat Field] sold today.
I drank cola all the way and cooled my head and chest with a tingling sense of freshness.
His personality is a mess, but Henry Marceau, an outstanding painter and sculptor, wouldnt treat my painting as money.
But there is definitely a problem with the auction house now.
Some people purely love paintings, like Henry, grandpa Martin and Richard Phillips, but there may be people who participate for other purposes, then my paintings would also have disappeared just like grandpa's paintings.
"Actually,"
Grandpa opened his mouth when I was thinking.
"What happened today was really surprising. I don't know if you understand the value of the money."
"I don't know grandpa."
I know its a big amount, but I couldnt feel how big it is.
The amount of money I spent on snacks worth 1,000 won and 2,000 won and potato pizza worth 28,000 won. So billion won cannot be felt realistically.
"Yes, I suppose so. It's different from the conversation we had a while ago, but it doesn't make sense. You know how much grandpa loves Hun's paintings, right?"
"Yes."
"It doesn't make sense to such grandpa either. You shouldn't like it, you should think about what's wrong. Do you understand what grandpa means?"
Yes grandpa."
I don't know why Henry is so obsessed with me.
He has already bought two of my paintings. Perhaps this will continue to be the case in the future.
Hell keep buying my paintings at a high price.
Can the artist's painting, which only Henri Marceau wants to own, approach others?
No.
That's not what I want.
I don't want to be a Painter who sells paintings only to Henry Marceau.
I don't want to rely on him.
But if I want to earn money, I have to sell my paintings.
Let's experience more.
I'm sure the painter won't just hold an exhibition to sell his work.
Like grandpa said, the priority should be to find and experience things.
As grandpa said, there might be no great painters.
But I'm sure.
A great teacher is in front of me.
The next day, reporters camped in front of the school.
Thanks to this, I was exhausted just by going to and from school.
I took out a box of Mon cheri, which I had put in my bag to eat when I was hungry to gain vitality.
It's all crushed.
While trembling with anger, Kim Jiwoo's words suddenly came to mind.
"Grandpa, I want to watch a movie."
"Movie? What movie?"
"Anything."
"Well, that's good. We don't have time today, so Lets see one tomorrow. Is there anything you want to see?"
"No, I just want to see how it is."
Grandpa tilted his head for a while and soon understood.
I think he thought I forgot about the movie because of my amnesia.
"Do you want to see my grandpa's favorite movie?"
"What's the name of the movie grandpa.?
The worlds fastest Indian. Its a movie about an old man.
How can an old man be described as the fastest in the world?
Just hearing the title makes me wonder what it is about.
"All right."
"That's the way it should be. Let's fry popcorn, too."
"Popcorn?"
As I learned how to watch a movie from grandpa, I arrived at the WH Art museum.
Uncle Bang greeted me warmly.
"Professor, Hun. Come this way.
Is he here already Mr.Bang?
"Yes, he's in the waiting room."
There is five minutes left until the appointed time, and it seems that he was waiting.
When I opened the door, a middle-aged man and two men turned their heads.
The middle-aged man was Christine Nolan, whom I saw at the auction.
"Hello, Nice to meet you.
His voice and tone showed off his dignity.
Nolan greeted my grandpa, too.
"It's the first time I've seen you in person. Im Christine Nolan."
"It's Ko Sooyeol. Nice to meet you."
I sat down and thankfully, the staff at the museum brought me a drink.
Seeing the coke in glass with five ice cubes makes me feel better even before I drink it.
After a sip, Christine Nolan spoke.
"You must have been surprised at my sudden request, weren't you?"
"I wasn't surprised. I was just wondering whats going on."
At my honest answer, Nolan grinned.
With a relaxed smile, his eyes are straightforward.
I can feel wisdom and pride.
"Actually, I wished to see you in person since I was a big fan of your work. I want to relieve my regret that I couldn't buy [Frost wheat field].
"Oh."
"I heard you drew it in a day. How was it actually?"
"It took about half a day to put it on the canvas, but I've been thinking about [Frost Wheat field] for quite a while."
At first I wanted to draw Golden Wheat Field, but I changed my mind as I spend my days with grandpa.
"I've thought about it for almost a year,"
Christine Nolan raised his eyebrows and tilted his upper body forward a little.
"I tried quite hard to express the [Frost wheat field], and it took me a long time to express the windy winter night sky."
Christine Nolan nodded and looked at the man standing next to him.
He handed Nolan a thick bunch of paper.
Nolan put the thick paper on the table.
"Do you like movies?"
"No."
He opened his eyes wide.
Even if he looked relaxed, he made an expression that seems to be surprised.
"I haven't seen it, I'll seeing one tomorrow. I'll let you know when I see it."
"Oh,"
Nolan laughed and pushed a bunch of paper.
"This is the script for my next year movie. If you're interested, please read it."
On the cover, the title L'Aiguille creuse catches my eye.
Hollow needle?
I can't get a sense of what the title alone is about.
"And if."
I looked up at Christine Nolans words.
If.after reading reading the script, if you wish to draw a picture, please contact me."
As I turned my head since I couldn't understand what he meant by drawing a picture after reading, I saw Uncle Bang with his eyes wide open as if they would pop out any moment.
Trivia
- The world's fastest Indian
2. The Hollow needle
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