Van Gogh Reborn!

Chapter 185: Awakening (3)

Chapter 185 Awakening (3)

It was the opening day of the Art Nouveau Competition.

I went to Notre Dame Cathedral with my grandfather, Bang Tae-ho, and Cha Si-hyun, who were invited to the opening ceremony.

On the way there, I saw many people enjoying the competition, but the front of the cathedral was crowded with people.

“Where is Damien Carter’s work?”

“It’ll be on the internet tomorrow, right?”

“Who would upload something that has a prize money?”

“Some people care more about views than money. Like YouTubers.”

“Oh, yeah.”

I heard the conversation of two people who looked like friends as they passed by.

I wondered if I should film a video too.

There were many Koreans, but 30% of my subscribers were from Europe and North America, so I thought it might help.

My broadcasts had been scarce lately, and I lost some subscribers, but I thought I could take advantage of this opportunity to improve the situation.

“Sir, this is a broadcast.”

“Huh?”

Bang Tae-ho had already taken out his camera and was filming Notre Dame Cathedral.

“No, it’s not.”

I felt like I could trust the reliable president of my agency.

“There are so many people.”

Cha Si-hyun exclaimed.

It was the first time for me to see such a spectacle of so many people gathered in one place.

It narrowed my vision.

I was worried that Cha Si-hyun, who couldn’t speak French, might get lost, so I held his hand tightly.

“Don’t worry.”

He smiled quite politely.

“Okay. Don’t let go and hold on tight.”

“Yeah. I’ll protect you.”

He hugged me. I didn’t know who was trying to reassure whom.

“If you get lost, call me right away. Don’t move. And don’t follow strangers.”

“It’s okay. That won’t happen.”

“It could happen, so be careful. What if you lose your phone and get lost?”

“Wow!”

He shouted as he looked at the Seine River, which was somewhat visible.

A family of yellow ducks was peacefully enjoying a picnic.

The baby ducks were big, but the mother duck looked like she was 4m tall.

It was a bit threatening to see the cute toy that my mother put in the bath when I was young grow so big.

“So cute.”

“It’s fine to look, but don’t run after them.”

I kept nagging, but I couldn’t help it.

I had to take good care of him for the sake of Cha Si-hyun’s parents, who trusted me and my grandfather and left their son to us.

“Look over there! There are penguins too!”

He jumped up and down.

“When we came here for our honeymoon, we couldn’t see it properly because of the fire, but it’s really amazing.”

“That’s right. Even though it was underrated, if it weren’t for Notre Dame Cathedral, the spatial utilization and decoration would have been behind by hundreds of years.”

"You mean the flying buttress technique?"1)

“Hmm. They had to attach it, but they made it into a decorative piece with their craftsmanship. Look at that delicate expression.”

“I heard they restored it, but it looks better than I thought.”

“It’s thanks to the efforts of those who inherited that craftsmanship. I heard they reused the original materials as much as possible.”

My grandfather and Bang Tae-ho were enjoying the Paris sightseeing while having a lively conversation.

If I didn’t come to my senses, there would be no one to take care of this guy who might run off somewhere.

I held Cha Si-hyun’s hand tightly.

“Bread for you! Freshly baked bread for you!”

As we entered the square in front of the cathedral, there were stalls lined up in a small park facing the Seine River.

They were not ordinary street vendors, but booths with SNBA logos on them.

The French National Art Association seemed to have prepared a lot of things.

“…”

I was drawn to the bread with a lot of chocolate mousse on it.

It was called éclair, and it was quite expensive for a street bread, 4 euros.

I wondered what it tasted like, and Cha Si-hyun muttered.

“I want to ride that.”

He turned around and looked up at the sky.

“What is it?”

I followed his gaze and saw a blimp floating in the sky.

It looked pretty big even though it was far away.

“Do you want to ride it?”

“Can we?”

“Can’t we?”

“We can’t see the works from there. Isn’t it for promotion?”

“Oh, maybe.”

I observed it again and saw something written on the side, but it was too high to see clearly.

“I think this is it.”

Cha Si-hyun showed me his smartphone.

It was an article saying that a blimp promoting the Art Nouveau Competition would be flying over Paris for a week starting today.

I didn’t notice it from below, but there was a phrase saying Art Nouveau Competition on the left side and the Marceau family crest on the right.

It looked like something from Henri Marso.

I read an article that SNBA was doing a low-cost, high-effect marketing, but they wouldn’t have thought of flying something like that if it weren’t for Marceau.

“Hoon-ah, look ahead. Si-hyun too. It’ll be a big trouble if you get lost.”

My grandfather came behind me and wrapped his arm around Cha Si-hyun’s shoulder.

**

In the midst of the world’s attention.

The opening ceremony of the Art Nouveau Competition began at the square of Notre Dame Cathedral.

The president of the French National Art Association, Chevasson Simon, greeted the guests on the podium.

“We have won another victory recently.”

Chevasson Simon’s voice was vigorous enough to make you forget his age.

“700,000 artists have finally regained their rightful rights. This is what many artists in Paris wanted a hundred years ago.”

Independence from power.

Freedom from survival.

As a result of their struggle to make art exist as art, French artists were free under the grace of Antermat.

“But this is not our goal.”

Chevasson Simon clenched his fist.

“Now that all forms have been dismantled and all artists have been granted freedom, where are we heading? The Art Nouveau Competition will be the first step to find out.”

The old man who loved art wished that all artists living in this era would pursue their own aesthetics in freedom.

He felt his heart pounding when he thought of the happiness and joy, sorrow and frustration, and the courage and will to rise again that would occur in the process.

The resonance of artists, the era, and the public was their goal and ideal.

“Dear art lovers. I hope you will discover the seeds of awakening that lie dormant on the Île de la Cité. Your joy will be the sunlight, and your tears will be the sweet rain. The moment the seeds you choose sprout leaves, this era will be defined.”

Chevasson Simon’s thoughts resonated with some, but not with others, but his love for art was conveyed to everyone.

Everyone applauded the message that the old man shouted with all his strength.

“Next, we have the pride of France! The Eroica who brought us freedom! I will leave it to Henri Marso. Thank you.”

As Chevasson Simon mentioned Henri Marso, the reporters became busy.

The camera shutter sound was sporadic.

“Henri! Henri!”

As Chevasson Simon introduced, the hero who brought freedom to the French art world, Henri Marso, made people ecstatic.

The emerald eyes that shone through his curly hair overwhelmed the audience in an instant.

Chevasson Simon proudly regarded Henri Marso and gave up his seat and stepped back.

Henri Marso looked around and opened his mouth.

“Chevasson master made a mistake.”

The heat that had risen from Chevasson Simon’s speech cooled down.

“The era cannot be defined. And there is no such thing as a trend that defines the era.”josei

Those who did not sympathize with Chevasson Simon’s speech nodded inwardly.

Art history explained the era by classifying it into trends such as Renaissance, Baroque, Classicism, Impressionism, etc., but with such a method, art could not be deeply and fully accepted.

Moreover, now that the diversification of values has taken place, art could not flow in one direction.

“Trends are nothing but a means to describe great artists of each era.”

Henri Marso mentioned the masters who represented each era from the Renaissance to the 20th century, emphasizing that there were no trends, only the artists who performed them.

“If you think that way, there is nothing that can’t be defined now.”

“Then how would you define this era, Mr. Marceau!”

Henri Marso frowned at the unexpected question.

“Are you asking because you don’t know?”

The reporter was flustered by Henri Marso’s blunt rhetoric even in an official place.

But it was a rare opportunity, so he gathered his courage and asked again.

“How would you describe the present, where contemporary art is being created!”

Henri Marso lifted his chin.

“Contemporary?”

As the reporter swallowed his saliva, the hero of France sneered and answered.

“In a hundred years, it will be introduced as the era of Henri Marso.”

“…”

“…”

At the end of the silence.

Henri Marso’s fervent supporters and French artists rose from their seats and went wild.

“Henri! Henri!”

“Henri! Henri!”

**

There was one reason why many people followed Henri Marso, while others despised him.

It was because what would be crazy talk for anyone else sounded plausible when Henri Marso said it.

In fact, his works, which constantly explored who he was, gave comfort to many people who were losing their humanity.

Those who were deprived of their self-esteem due to the exploitative structure gained strength from seeing Henri Marso.

Not only that.

He revived the stagnant painting world with Jang Mi-rae and others, and normalized Antermat, among other things. He was doing great things in many ways, enough to be called a modern Gustav Klimt.

It was an objective fact.

However, it might not be suitable for the speech of the Art Nouveau Competition, where many artists challenged their dreams.

The opening ceremony, which became a cauldron of excitement, was continued by the speeches of the Paris mayor, the World Artists Association president, and others.

My grandfather also had his turn scheduled and headed backstage a while ago.

“How long is this going to last?”

“Well. It won’t end before lunch, right? Oh, yeah. It’s until 12 o’clock.”

Bang Tae-ho checked the event schedule for me.

There seemed to be something like a congratulatory stage, but I wasn’t interested.

I wanted to eat the éclair that was sold in the small park in front of the cathedral before lunch.

“I’m going to buy some bread.”

“Now?”

“Yes. It’s over there.”

“Can’t you wait a little? You want to eat it now?”

“If I eat it at lunchtime, I’ll eat less lunch.”

It was a perfect logic, but Bang Tae-ho didn’t seem to understand.

“Then I’ll buy it for you. Where is it?”

I couldn’t see where it was because there were too many people.

“It’s okay. I’ll be back soon.”

“No. What if you get lost?”

“Yeah. Don’t go.”

Cha Si-hyun also stepped in and stopped me.

“I know the geography here well. And I can speak the language. Don’t worry.”

“No. Let’s go together.”

“It’s not good to leave Si-hyun alone. I’ll contact you right away if anything happens.”

I decided to go together because I might be late for my grandfather’s speech time.

*****

1)Flying buttress.

The chronic problem of Gothic buildings that soared high was the load that occurred when the walls were piled high.

In the past, when there was no material like concrete, problems such as cracking of the wall surface occurred due to the load.

To solve this problem, they installed wing-like supports on the building wall, and even decorated them as if they were ornaments, which made it possible to create beautiful buildings like Notre Dame Cathedral.

This style, translated as the flying buttress technique, is known to have been first introduced at Notre Dame Cathedral.