Van Gogh Reborn 293

Courage (3)

“It’s not an easy matter.”

Lorenzo Giverti, the chairman of the Venice Biennale Organizing Committee, opened his mouth after reading Kim Ji-woo’s column at Ralph Lupus’s suggestion.

“As you know, the national pavilions have full authority over their own countries. We can’t do anything about it. Not just the Korean pavilion, but others too.”

He sounded calm and composed.

“Did you know?”

“I’ve heard a lot of stories from being in this position for a long time.”

“But how can you just watch?”

Lorenzo Giverti sighed.

“I’m troubled too, Ralph. I’m suffering too.”

“…”

“Didn’t we have a bad incident already?”

Ralph Lupus recalled the problem that occurred during the award ceremony of the Venice Biennale.

After that, the authority of the Venice Biennale plummeted, and the Whitney Biennale rose instead.

Venice, which had hosted the most prestigious biennale in the world, lost not only the art market, but also the exhibition and its reputation to the United States.

“Think about it. What if it becomes known that there was corruption in the operation of the national pavilions? I don’t want to end this noble history in my time.”

“Are you saying we should just leave it as it is?”

Lorenzo Giverti lowered his eyes and didn’t answer.

“Listen, Lorenzo. You’re the one who loves the Venice Biennale more than anyone I know. You can’t be like this. Haven’t you devoted your life to this place?”

“…”

“Remember. Anish Kapoor in 2007. Go Soo-yeol in 2009. Henri Marso in 2024. How happy were you?”

“Ralph.”

“What about this year? They’re all participating, and Jang Mi-rae and Ko Hun are with them. Are you going to make a shameful place for them? Is that really what you want?”

He couldn’t do that.

As Ralph Lupus said, Lorenzo Giverti loved Venice.

He was born here and spent his life with the Venice Biennale.

“Are you afraid it will collapse? No way! What you should worry about is not the reputation of the Venice Biennale.”

Ralph Lupus contradicted him.

“I’m afraid that the artists will stop coming to Venice. If we neglect this, it will become nothing but a shell!”

“Don’t we have an external image?”

“Why don’t you know that hiding the wrongs is more shameful! Who would want to go to such a place!”

Ralph Lupus scolded his old friend.

“Authority and honor don’t come from elsewhere. It’s only when people with a purpose gather that the Venice Biennale can be the best. If this goes on, it will be a place where only the powerful people come. Isn’t that right?”

“…”

“Lorenzo!”

As Ralph Lupus said, the honor of the Venice Biennale came from the participating artists and the audience.

If only certain individuals were given the opportunity to participate, the truly meaningful artists would not come.

The Venice Biennale would become a hollow event in no time.

“I get it. I’ll bring it up at the committee.”

“Lorenzo.”

Ralph Lupus hugged his old friend with joy.

“That’s the end of the overview.”

The participating artists applauded as Bang Tae-ho and Michelle explained the concept of the Bulhandang exhibition hall.

There was a reason why they chose the sea for the first floor and the sky for the second floor.

They were different but similar concepts that hoped to meet, and they matched the theme of the Venice Biennale, ‘Between’.

Both sides seemed to have a sense of the problem of immigrant conflict.

France was obvious, and Korea also had many immigrants who came to find jobs.

He was thinking of exhibiting , which sets beyond the horizon.

“Hoon!”

It was Ma Eun-chan.

He arrived just before the orientation started and didn’t have time to greet him, but his face looked much better.

“What happened? I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Ha-ha. I thought so too. The plane was delayed and I was in a hurry, but I took the wrong way.”

He was unlucky.

“But thanks to the kind bakery owner, I wasn’t late. I’m lucky, right?”

He was a very positive person.

“Anyway, do you want to look around with me? It’s my first time in Venice, so I want to see everything. Like Lorenzo Quinn’s hand.”

Hello, this is Copilot. I’m here to help you edit and translate your web novel. ??

First, let me translate your text from Korean to English using one of my internal tools1. Here is the result:

I’m talking about the statue that is attached to the wall of the Ca’ Sagredo Hotel.

It is a work that sculpted a giant hand that supports the buildings in Venice, which will be submerged underwater in 2100, revealing the awareness of the problem of global warming and the rise of sea level.

I was surprised when I first saw the giant hand popping out of the water.

“I’m sorry. I have something to do right away.”

“What is it?”

Maeunchan tilted his head.

“Something cool.”

Jang Mi-rae came over and smiled, and Maeunchan’s eyes almost popped out. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

He didn’t react like this when he met Henri.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Ah. Uh. Nice to meet you too. Jang Mi-rae teacher. Professor? Writer?”

“Just call me whatever you want. Maeunchan writer.”

I thought my jaw dropped.

He couldn’t close his mouth, wondering how surprised he was.

“So, Jang Mi-rae writer wants me. Me. Huh? Is this a dream?”

Maeunchan covered his cheeks and looked around for no reason.

Jang Mi-rae smiled as if she was happy to meet a fan.

“I’m going to the Korean Pavilion. Do you want to come with me?”

“Korean Pavilion? Not the joint pavilion?”

Jang Mi-rae nodded slightly and Maeunchan nodded as if his neck was broken.

It didn’t matter why, it was a good sign.

“Then wait a minute. Seolgi, Raim.”

Jang Mi-rae looked around and called out to the two writers who joined the villains.

They were both from Korea University and Jang Mi-rae’s juniors. They learned art from their grandfather, and they were also their mother and father’s juniors.

From the orientation earlier, I remembered that the person with short hair who looked healthy was Yuraim.

The person with white skin and permed hair tied back was Baek Seolgi.

“Yes, senior.”

Yuraim came over with a friendly face.

Baek Seolgi looked a bit nervous.

“Hoon and teacher. I’m going to the Korean Pavilion with Maeunchan writer here. Do you want to come?”

“Korean Pavilion?”

Yuraim also looked puzzled like Maeunchan.

“It’s a historic place. It wouldn’t hurt to see it for yourself once.”

“I’ll pass. I want to see the joint pavilion first.”

Unlike Yuraim who nodded, Baek Seolgi refused.

“Okay. You can see it later.”

Jang Mi-rae didn’t insist any more, seeing that she was embarrassed.

“Hehe. Looks like we have more company.”

As grandfather approached, Maeunchan stiffened again.

“You’re Maeunchan writer, right? Nice to meet you. I’m Go Sooyeol.”

“Ah, hello! It’s an honor!”

Grandfather reached out his hand as if to shake hands, but he didn’t seem to notice.

He kept bowing and lifting his head, making grandfather laugh.

“Let’s go then.”

Grandfather, Jang Mi-rae, Yuraim, and Maeunchan headed to the Korean Pavilion.

It was quite far from the orientation place, and it was in Castello Park.

On the way, grandfather told us various stories.

“Only Korea and Japan are in Asia. Dongjun senior did a great job.”

The Venice Biennale national pavilion was 26, and Korea was the last to be established.

Only two countries in Asia with so many countries.

Korea is doing well in the art market that is biased towards Europe and North America.

“Dongjun senior?”

“You saw his work last time.”

“Ah.”

He seemed to be talking about Baek Dongjun, the painter. I saw his work at the Kunst Palast when I stopped by Germany for the Shuminke promotion broadcast.

“He didn’t want to give us a national pavilion at first.”

“Why?”

“He felt like he was matching the level. He ignored it. You can tell by the fact that no other national pavilion has been created in Asia until now.”

I don’t think there were many people who thought like this when I was alive in the 19th century.

I can’t understand what Europeans think and live.

“But then in 1995, a brilliant person named Baek Dongjun appeared and the perception changed a bit. He won the Golden Lion Award and kept requesting the establishment of a national pavilion, so he couldn’t refuse anymore.”

“He also gave permission with a lot of resentment.”

Jang Mi-rae continued grandfather’s words.

“How so?”

“Since it was so hard to get a spot, Mr. Baek Dong-jun said he would take any place that people didn’t go to. He got a permit for a place that used to be a bathroom. But it was on the condition that it would be demolished in three years.”

It was disgusting.

“Everyone said it wouldn’t work out because the location was bad. But guess what? Mr. Jeon Cheon-su won a special prize at the opening exhibition.”

“Wow.”

Ma Eun-chan and I reacted at the same time.

“Two years later, Mr. Kang Jung-ik won another special prize, and after that, Mr. Lee Isaac won one too. It was a streak from Mr. Baek Dong-jun. And of course, the teacher too.”

Jang Mi-rae smiled at her grandfather.

He nodded his head modestly, but I couldn’t be more proud of him.

“As they kept winning prizes, the story of demolition was vaguely passed over and forgotten. By everyone.”

“Then what happened?”

“It was a mess. In 2017, I think? It was revealed that they had to demolish it. But it was resolved well. The association wasn’t in this state back then.”

Grandfather, Jang Mi-rae, and Yu Ra-im sighed.

Ma Eun-chan and I, who didn’t know the situation at that time, just listened quietly.

“They really worked hard. The artists circulated a petition and came to persuade them personally. The teacher came too, right?”

“Hmm.”

Grandfather nodded his head.

“It was a tumultuous journey from the establishment to now.”

As we listened to the explanation of how the Korean Pavilion was established and maintained, we arrived at a small building in the forest.

“This is the place they protected.”

The first floor of the cylindrical building had large glass windows that allowed us to see inside.

‘It’s small.’

My heart felt heavy as I thought of the many people who sweated to protect this small building.

And I also understood why Grandfather, Jang Mi-rae, and Bang Tae-ho were so angry about the Korean Art Association’s abuse of this place.

“This is the Korean Pavilion…”

Ma Eun-chan seemed to feel something too.

He calmly examined the exterior.

Above the entrance, there was a structure that shaped the word ‘COREA’.

I guess it would make sense if it was Italian, but on the second floor of the cylindrical building, it was written in English.

“Why is it C instead of K?”

“They said they wrote it as Corea because the Japanese changed it to K.”

“Really?”

“Well, I don’t know much about that. Let’s look it up later.”

He nodded and looked at Jang Mi-rae, who was biting her lip.

She looked happy just a while ago, but she looked upset when she faced the Korean Pavilion.

Grandfather noticed it too and patted Jang Mi-rae’s shoulder.

“You’ll have another chance.”

“…Yes.”

Grandfather, Yu Ra-im, and Ma Eun-chan went inside the building first.

I waited anxiously by her side, and Jang Mi-rae calmed herself down and opened her mouth.

“Hoon-ah.”

“Yes.”

“Korean art is narrow. There are many famous people, but they are all active in Europe or America. They have no choice.”

I listened silently.

“That’s why this place is important. Because we can show that there are people who do great art in Korea. At the most famous biennale in the world.”

Jang Mi-rae clenched her fist.

“There is no chance to participate in the national pavilion more than once. At most, once?”

“Once.”

“Yeah. Once. I’m going to win a prize here. Like Jeon Cheon-su, Kang Jung-ik, Lee Isaac. Like the teacher said.”

“You can do it.”

“Of course. Who am I?”

Jang Mi-rae smiled.

She deserved to have this confidence, as she devoted her life to art.

Rather, I would be sorry if she wasn’t confident.

“I’ll do it too.”

“You too?”

I want to show that Korean artists make great works.

“I can’t let someone like Choi Kyu-seo take it away from me.”

Jang Mi-rae smiled and ruffled my hair.

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