Van Gogh Reborn!

Chapter 188: Awakening (6)

Chapter 188 Awakening (6)

“Where?”

Bang Taeho leaned in his face.

Three hours ago, Go Hoon’s <Summer Winter> was outside the ranking, but now it was climbing up to the top.

Bang Taeho clenched his fist as if it was his own achievement.

“Everyone recognized it. It’s not the name, but the work!”

Bang Taeho grabbed and shook Go Hoon, who had no reaction.

“Is this real?”

Thanks to him, Go Hoon came to his senses and checked his smartphone again.

“It’s real!”

Cha Si-hyun hugged his friend and jumped around, and Bang Taeho quickly searched for articles related to <Summer Winter>.

But Go Hoon still couldn’t believe it.

“It’s weird. How can it be second with only 110,000 votes?”

The official application of the Arnuvo Contest had been downloaded more than 10 million times.

They couldn’t know the exact numbers, but they knew that there were a lot of tourists who visited Paris to see the Arnuvo Contest today, as they went through the morning and afternoon schedules.

Moreover, there was a VR exhibition that perfectly recreated the Cité Island for those who couldn’t visit in person.

110,000 votes was not a small number, but it seemed insufficient considering the heat of the Arnuvo Contest.

“It’s because it’s the first day. You can only choose ten works per person, so they must be trying to see as many as possible and vote. Look, it says the total number of votes is 580,045.”

Go Hoon nodded at Bang Taeho’s explanation.

“Then they don’t know yet.”

“But this kind of thing is important in the beginning. If you secure a high rank, it’s a promotion in itself.”

The contest period was still six days left.

Go Hoon, who tried to stay calm and not celebrate too soon, lifted his head.

Sure enough, Go Suyeol was calm.

Rather, he looked a bit stern, unlike his usual affectionate attitude towards Go Hoon.

He was like a grandfather who said that grades were not important, and that he should only think about communicating with the audience through his work.

Go Hoon was proud of such a grandfather.

“Grandpa, aren’t you happy?”josei

Cha Si-hyun asked Go Suyeol.

“He doesn’t seem to believe it yet. Teacher, it’s true that Hoon is second. The media and SNS are going crazy.”

“…”

When Go Suyeol didn’t respond, Go Hoon stepped in.

“It’s not time to be happy yet. We have to wait and see.”

“Hmm.”

“Still.”

It wasn’t a wrong statement, so Bang Taeho calmed down his excitement, and Cha Si-hyun didn’t understand the adults who didn’t honestly rejoice in their friend’s success and Go Hoon.

Go Suyeol approached and looked at the voting status of the 2028 Arnuvo Contest.

Among the top ten works that were promised to be invited to the special exhibition at the Louvre Museum, the only work he knew was his grandson Go Hoon’s <Summer Winter>.

The galleries around Notre Dame Cathedral were too crowded, so he looked from the outskirts.

“Hoon is second?”

“Yes!”

Go Suyeol was uncomfortable with Cha Si-hyun’s strong answer.

His beloved grandson’s <Summer Winter> was a work that surprised even him.

He said that the rank was not important to Go Hoon, but he was confident that he would win and prepared a congratulatory gift in advance.

He couldn’t believe that there was a work that received more votes than <Summer Winter>.

He had to see for himself what the work was with his own eyes.

“Where is it exhibited?”

“Oh, there must be someone who introduced it if you look for it.”

“Here. It seems to be the building next to the police station.”

Cha Si-hyun showed him the ‘Arnuvo Contest Must-See Works Top 5’ posted by YouTuber Alex.

“Hmm. Okay. Let’s start from here tomorrow.”

Go Hoon, who was watching the conversation of the three, tilted his head at his grandfather’s slightly different appearance.

The Arnuvo Contest, which had the largest prize money in modern art history and was participated by 1,789 artists who claimed to be the best, had a clear meaning.

It was a contest that reflected the zeitgeist of the importance of communication in a society where individuals were isolated.

The French National Art Association pursued publicization by breaking away from the standardized judging method by a specific number of people and asking the opinions of all the visitors.

As a result, three works received overwhelming support and advanced as soon as the contest opened.

Since anonymous submission was the principle, the authors of <Beauty> and <Summer Winter> were unknown, and <Farewell>, the only work among the three that revealed the author, secured about 20% of the total votes.

“Hmm.”

Early in the morning, Kim Ji-woo, a reporter who went on a business trip to Paris to cover the Arnuvo Contest, nodded his head after thinking.

“Is it the name value after all?”

Yesterday, he looked around the three works that became a hot topic, but he didn’t get the impression that he got from <Beauty> and <Summer Winter> from Damien Carter’s <Farewell>.

It could be a matter of taste, so he checked various forum sites, communities, and personal media, and <Farewell> was introduced as a masterpiece by the master Damien Carter.

It was hard to find any mention of the impression or message that <Farewell> gave.

Kim Ji-woo accessed the Arnuvo Contest site.

The top ten authors who will be invited to the special exhibition at the Louvre Museum.

Among the ten works that currently received the most votes, the authors of seven works were almost certain.

“This is meaningless.”

Kim Ji-woo pushed his lips and clenched his chin.

Although it was the first day, most of the top-ranked works were interested in whose work they were.

Even influential speakers were looking for famous artists’ works.

Among the influencers, only a few like Alex introduced the works without being influenced by the authors.

“Sigh.”

She checked the articles she posted in the morning and evening and sighed.

She wrote a separate English article, but the internet article from the small magazine company Ye-hwa couldn’t attract the attention of Europeans, let alone Koreans.

Go Hoon, who appeared like a comet, Go Suyeol, who returned successfully, and Jang Mi-rae, who pulled the stagnant art world.

As the artists were doing their best, she felt that she couldn’t help as a journalist and a person who loved art.

Last year, she felt sorry that she couldn’t keep her word that she would sell Go Hoon’s painting.

The light began to enter the window.

She buried her gloomy mood and filled her empty stomach with a latte.

Her breath rose white every time she exhaled.

Thanks to Ye-hwa, who had high expectations for this special issue, she booked a good hotel near Cité Island, so she could walk enough.

She comforted her depression with the cold morning air and crossed the Arcole Bridge.

She still had a long way to go until the gallery opened, so she headed for Notre Dame Cathedral to see the works installed outdoors.

“Hey, Kim Ji-woo?”

How long had I walked?

Someone called out to her.

“Ah. Hello.”

Lee In-ho, a reporter, came up with a friendly face.

“You came out early.”

“Yes. I wanted to look around when there was no one. How about you, In-ho?”

“Haha. I thought I might catch something if I came out early. By the way, I read your article yesterday. I learned a lot from you, Ji-woo.”

Kim Ji-woo smiled faintly.

“Here, take this.”

Lee In-ho took out a hot pack from his pocket and handed it to her, but Kim Ji-woo shook her hand.

“No, thank you. I’m fine. You use it, In-ho.”

“I brought a few. Take one.”

Lee In-ho smiled kindly and urged her again.

With no choice, Kim Ji-woo took the hand warmer and felt the warmth through her gloves and greeted him.

“Thank you. I’ll use it well.”

“Haha. Yes. Then, please write a good article today.”

“Yes.”

Lee In-ho looked around and sighed deeply.

“Actually, I didn’t believe you, Ji-woo.”

“What?”

“That the art market would grow. I don’t know much, but I thought there was a reason why this area was shrinking.”

“Oh. Yes…”

“But now I see that I really didn’t know. So many artists are working hard like this, and I didn’t know there were so many people who are trying hard outside like you, Ji-woo.”

Kim Ji-woo couldn’t agree with Lee In-ho’s words.

It was true that the artists and related industry people were showing results, but she didn’t think she was doing the same.

Her pride in working harder than anyone else was shaken by the low number of views.

She was wondering if she should write articles about famous artists like other media outlets.

“I really liked your articles on Mi and Summer Nettle. I didn’t know, but they were both frames by Pierre Malo, right? I envy your eye for detail. You’re awesome.”

Kim Ji-woo bit her lip.

As her expression turned sour, Lee In-ho’s voice grew louder.

“Really. I really think so.”

It was the first time she saw a grown man flustered like that, and she laughed.

Lee In-ho, who didn’t know why she was laughing, was puzzled but relieved for the time being.

“Me. Did I say something funny? Let’s laugh together.”

“No. … I know the story of Pierre Malo. What. It’s embarrassing when you compliment me like that.”

“Oh, is that so? Hahaha!”

**

“It’s coooold.”

Cha Si-hyun shivered and clung to him.

Today was especially cold.

He had put on thermal underwear, wool socks, a wool hat, ear muffs, hand-warming gloves, and a thick padded jacket, but he still felt chilly.

“We’ll have to go around a few places today.”

“Yes. Let’s just look around the area since we’re going to see Mi first.”

Grandfather was right.

“Why do they do this on such a cold day?”

“I know. They probably did it to coincide with the salon exhibition, but I guess there will be some talk.”

“They could have run it independently with this scale.”

Unless they had some extraordinary will, they wouldn’t be able to see the works through this cold snap.

He was worried that the Art Nouveau competition, which was organized by many people, including the artists and SNBA, would not achieve results because of the weather.

“Hey, look over there.”

Cha Si-hyun pushed his body slightly.

As he turned his head, he could see people lining up in front of the gallery where Summer Nettle was exhibited.

There were more than yesterday.

“It seems to have become a hot topic.”

“Hmm.”

On a cold day like today, he couldn’t express how grateful he was that they came to see him.

Summer Nettle should melt their frozen bodies.

“This seems to be the place.”

How much longer had he walked?

Bang Tae-ho stopped.

There were as many people in line as the gallery where Summer Nettle was exhibited.

He was curious what the work that moved the most people’s hearts among 1,700 pieces would be like, and he couldn’t wait.

“What if it’s not as good as I thought?”

“It won’t be. They said they couldn’t predict who the artist was.”

“Is that important?”

“It means that it touched them with the work alone.”

“Hmm.”

He couldn’t completely ignore the artist when he appreciated the work.

But if the work touched him with the identity of the artist completely hidden, it meant that the work had a definite aura.

“I’ll have to eat something warm for lunch.”

“Good. How about bouillabaisse? I went there with Hoon the other day and it was good.”

“I have to go if the teacher recommends it.”

“What is bouillabaisse?”

“It’s a soup with seafood and tomatoes.”

He answered instead of Grandfather and Cha Si-hyun frowned.

“It’s delicious. It warms you up when you drink the broth. They give you the leftovers separately, and they peel the fish for you.”

“How can it be delicious when you boil fish and tomatoes together?”

He thought he was worried about eating the fish, but he seemed to have a more fundamental aversion.

As they chatted, they were able to enter the gallery.

What kind of work would it be?

He was short, so he had to suppress his impatience and appreciate the other works until he stood in front of Mi.

And finally.

“Wow.”

He saw Mi with Bang Tae-ho’s exclamation.

“Wow.”

A pure white cape fluttered under the sublime light that pierced the darkness.

The sleeves, the edge of the cape, and the heel of the shoes shone with a noble gold.

As he walked with the curtain open, he felt a sense of reverence for the back of the man.

He couldn’t doubt his eyes.

That composition, that gold paint.

He had seen it before.

“Grandfather.”

“Hmm…”

“Is it yellow ochre?”

“It seems so.”

It was a big deal.

The work that received the highest praise in the largest competition in history.

It was a copy of Henri Matisse.