Van Gogh Reborn!

Chapter 291:

291

Courage (1)

While Ko Hun was in Venice, Blanche Fabre and Vida Rabani met separately to paint.

“I wonder if Hoon and Mr. Marso have met by now.”

Vida Rabani suddenly brought up the topic of the Burning Dawn.

Fabre checked the clock and nodded slightly. He looked somewhat bitter.

“It’s a shame.”

Rabani comforted Fabre.

They both applied for the French Pavilion and the Burning Dawn, but they failed to overcome the fierce competition.

He had seen how hard they had prepared, and he wished that Fabre could at least join them.

“I wasn’t disappointed.”

“Really?”

“I deserved it.”

He had painted every day, hoping to share the stage with Henri Marso, but the reality was harsh.

At first, he was angry and looked up the artists who joined the French Pavilion and the Burning Dawn.

There were some famous artists and some less known ones, but he couldn’t deny their portfolios that were made public.

The commissioners and artistic directors of each national pavilion did their best.

And the selected ones had the qualifications to represent their countries.

Blanche Fabre was more angry at himself, who was so lacking that he couldn’t even raise an objection, than at the fact that he couldn’t join the national pavilion.

“…”

Rabani smiled softly as he watched Fabre mix the colors silently.

“You’ll make it next time.”

Fabre nodded at Rabani’s encouragement.

He vowed to create a work that everyone would have to acknowledge, like the artists who participated in this Venice Biennale.

“You too.”

Rabani laughed awkwardly at Fabre’s words.

“No, I’m fine as I am.”

After meeting Michel Platini.

And painting with Ko Hun and Blanche Fabre, Vida Rabani smiled more often.

Unlike the times when he didn’t know how to live, he now had a job, painted, and got a scholarship offer that would allow him to go to school next year.

He thought it was greedy to ask for more, since miracles had already happened several times.

“You said you wanted to do art.”

“Yeah. But.”

He lacked confidence.

Ko Hun showed amazing works every time, like , and Fabre also tried something different every week.

He was happy to meet them, but for Rabani, it was also an opportunity to realize his own limits.

He thought he could cheer for them as a friend, but not join them.

“I can’t do it like Hoon or you. Yeah…”

Fabre stared at Rabani.

He knew what his friend was thinking. He had been discriminated against for being a Muslim, and he had never challenged himself confidently because of that.

The application for the Burning Dawn was also something that Ko Hun and Fabre pushed him to do.

“You’re right. You can’t do it.”

“Right. Hehe.”

“Don’t laugh.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry.”

Fabre felt sorry for his friend, who tried to laugh off his words and apologized first.

“But you have warmth. Sometimes your paintings make me feel warm, like Hoon’s.”

“Uh…?”

“You can do it if you work hard. Henri Marso did too. He said anyone can learn the technical stuff.”

Fabre recalled Henri Marso’s lecture.

Rabani respected him too, so he believed his words would reach him.

“The important thing is to paint your own picture. You’re already doing that.”

“I. …I don’t know.”

“Come on.”

Rabani avoided his gaze.

Fabre grabbed his friend’s face and looked him in the eye.

“If you work hard. If you do well, they’ll recognize you.”

Fabre’s eyes were very serious.

Rabani flinched and pulled back, avoiding his gaze.

“I can’t paint well. And I’m ugly.”

“You can do well if you work hard. Looks don’t matter.”

“I’m a Muslim…”

“Zlatan Ibrahimovic, Shaquille O’Neal, and Janet Jackson are also Muslims.”

Rabani looked up.

“Who are they?”

“Soccer player, basketball player, singer. They’re famous.”

Fabre didn’t know much about Zlatan Ibrahimovic, Shaquille O’Neal, or Janet Jackson.

He had just memorized their names while looking for successful examples of Muslims for his friend.

He wanted to tell Rabani someday that there were people among Muslims who were respected and lived wonderful lives.

He believed firmly that Rabani was not a bad friend.

Many people cursed Islam and Fabre couldn’t look kindly at those who killed people and subjugated women.

It was only natural.

But he couldn’t think that Rabani was like those people, so he looked into it.

He found out why there were so many Islamic countries with severe gender discrimination and criminal groups that committed terrorism. It was because the leaders interpreted Sharia (Islamic law) in their favor to maintain their power.

Originally, Sharia only allowed violence for the purpose of protecting oneself, and explained that men and women were perfectly equal before God.

As he learned more about Islam and saw and felt that Rabani was a friend who loved and respected others, Fabre felt relieved.

He was glad to confirm that his precious friend was not a bad person.

“Me too. You can do it too.”

Rabani hesitated to answer.

He appreciated Fabre’s warm heart, but he lacked courage because of his experience of being bullied and despised.

“Hoon told you, right? He showed you at Dallida Square and Bugrenelli Shopping Mall.”

Fabre tried to persuade him again.

At Dallida Square, Olivier’s parents said that they shouldn’t hang out with Muslims.

At Bugrenelli Shopping Mall, a radical animal rights group came out and protested that Go Soo-yeol and Ko Hun shouldn’t eat dogs.

But in the end, Dallida Square became known as a new tourist spot.

Bugrenelli Shopping Mall became a place where children could play comfortably.

“You can do it.”

He didn’t want to lose.

He couldn’t give up his beloved insects just because the school kids pointed fingers at him and said he was dirty and weird.

They didn’t know anything and insulted him for trying to be like Henri Marso, but he believed that someone who would recognize him would appear someday.

He couldn’t collapse as if he admitted the violence and criticism he had received so far.

“You can’t lose.”

Fabre said as if he was determined, but he couldn’t shake off all his fears with a few words.

Nothing changed.

He still received unpleasant stares when he went outside.

But he was able to muster up courage because he had Ko Hun and Fabre, who was encouraging him as a friend by his side.

“Yeah.”

[The Outcasts, First Meeting in Venice]

Today, the Korea-France joint pavilion at the 2030 Venice Biennale has its first official schedule.

Bang Tae-ho (CEO of Chocolatier), the joint commissioner and artistic director, said that he arranged the meeting to share the positions of the two countries.

The eyes of the ears are focused on what kind of work the Korea-France joint pavilion, which includes Go Soo-yeol, a master of Korean painting, Jang Mi-rae, a professor at Korea University, Ko Hun, the grandson of Go Soo-yeol, and Henri Marso, a famous French writer, will present.

└They must be preparing slowly.

└Of course. It’s only six months left until the opening on May 22 next year.

└????? Look at the article title ?? The Outcasts ??? Are they crazy ???

└The reporter is a subscriber of Pingoo channel

└????? Hoon always says The Outcasts on the broadcast, so now everyone calls them that ????

└How can The Outcasts be more anticipated than the Korean pavilion?

└The Outcasts are better than the Korean pavilion that comes out of hearsay.

└Hearsay? Do you know how many awards Choi Kyu-seo has won? You don’t know anything and you say hearsay.

└?

└You say that because you know, right?

└Link [Commissioner Kim Soo-hyuk, “Choi Kyu-seo is the best talent to fill the Korean pavilion.”]

└Search Choi Kyu-seo and Venice Biennale. There are dozens of articles.

└That’s what I’m saying. You don’t know how amazing it is to take charge of the Korean pavilion alone ???

└Ha. If I had a lot of money, I would say it bluntly.

└Choi Kyu-seo won a lot of awards. But who among the artists acknowledges him? Jang Mi-rae is famous for winning awards?

└Please, I beg you, do it moderately. Aren’t you ashamed? Do you think it’s really amazing if you say it’s amazing? Look at Go Soo-yeol and Jang Mi-rae. How about Hoon? They don’t say anything. Who would believe you if you bring your husband’s words and say it’s amazing?

└The above comment is not wrong at all. The couple came out on the broadcast and beautified what they did together. It was disgusting.

└Honestly, aren’t they a couple scam?

└Wow. I couldn’t say it because I had no money. I’m jealous.

└I captured this. I’ll send it to the author’s company, so delete it before you beg in front of the author.

└LOL, you captured it and then tell me to delete it.

└Why are you guys like this in the comments? What’s wrong with Choi Kyu-seo and Kim Su-hyuk doing the Korean pavilion?

└Exactly. It’s weird.

└You’re just jealous. Honestly, Choi Kyu-seo is someone who can promote Korean art like Go Su-yeol and Jang Mi-rae.

There was a controversy over Choi Kyu-seo in every article related to the Venice Biennale.

People who knew well the corruption of the art world were displeased with Choi Kyu-seo and Kim Su-hyuk, but people who learned about them through TV programs could not understand.

They were envious of the two successful people who lived a luxurious life and participated in the world-class art exhibition by themselves.

“They did well.”

Kim Ji-woo, who was watching the reaction, licked his lips.

Choi Kyu-seo, who had succeeded in image making by using his connections and business relationships, was regarded as the main actor of Korean art development.

‘Where.’

Kim Ji-woo checked the clock and turned on the TV.

It was time to see the results of his efforts based on Baek Seol-gi’s tip for the last two weeks. freēwebnovel.com

As he watched NBC News with an anxious mind.

The news he had been waiting for was delivered.

-Next news. The Korean Art Association has been exposed to have received unfair requests for judging domestic art competitions. Reporter Lee Seung-gyeom covered this.

The screen changed.

-November 4th. A person related to the domestic art competition, Mr. A, reported the situation of the unfair request from the Korean Art Association. It is about giving awards to those who organized the competition in exchange for money.

A person with voice distortion and mosaic processing was caught on the screen.

It was the person related to the art competition that Kim Ji-woo had barely persuaded.

-The winners were predetermined, so follow them. I had to do that to get support from the association.

-Mr. A said that he had to receive support from the association to continue the competition, and he had to give awards to those who the association had pointed out.

-I had no choice but to follow. If not, I couldn’t hold the contest at all. We have to make a living too.

-Mr. A, who also runs an art museum, said that he could not hold the next competition or hire artists affiliated with the association if he did not accept the association’s request.

Kim Ji-woo moved his eyes to the computer monitor as he watched the news.

As soon as he logged into the largest domestic art community, the reactions he had been waiting for were coming up.

└What is NBC News?

└Again, bullshit. Again.

└The association bastards are not satisfied with the national exhibition and do the same in other competitions.

└Look at the mess of the national exhibition and the association president didn’t change. Dirty. Filthy.

└They said they couldn’t do anything without cooperating with the association?

└Who is the association president?

└What does it mean to get money? Did they sell the awards for money?

└Can’t you get specs without money? It’s a crazy world. Really.

The public opinion was boiling even though it was only the first report.

Woo-woo- woo-woo-

The phone rang.

“Yes, In-ho.”

-Are you watching?

“Yes. How about you?”

-It will be on the front page tomorrow.

The Daehan Daily, one of the top daily newspapers in Korea, was going to expose the corruption of the Korean Art Association on the front page.

“Bosar will also post it tomorrow. About the corruption related to the Venice Biennale.”

Half a year until the opening of the Venice Biennale.

If they delayed a little, the Korean pavilion could be decorated with criminals.

Kim Ji-woo could never watch that happen.

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