Van Gogh Reborn!

312

The Final Showdown (17)

June 16, 2030.

The world’s largest art fair, Art Basel in Switzerland, is about to begin.

The VIP entrance day is not until the second day, so I prepare to go to Switzerland at a leisurely pace.

“You should come with us, Mr. Artist.”

Bang Tae-ho suggests to Ma Eun-chan.

“I’m fine, thank you. Hehe.”

His smile, which is always bright, looks a bit bitter.

“I prefer to see the sculpture project, you know. Ahaha. Thank you, though.”

There are many works to see at the Münster Sculpture Project, but I enjoyed them enough for five days.

Besides, Ma Eun-chan, who lives in Münster, can see them anytime later.

I can’t understand why he is so stubborn, and then I realize that I was too careless.

“We got an invitation from Chocolatier for the future. They even sent us plane tickets and hotel reservations. Right, sir?”

I give Bang Tae-ho a hint.

Fortunately, he catches on quickly and plays along.

“I sent them too many, thinking there were more artists.”

“It would be a waste to just throw them away.”

“Exactly. And Mr. Marso is not participating either, so what are we going to do?”

Bang Tae-ho matches my rhythm.

“Me, me! Actually, I really want to go! Don’t throw them away!”

Thank goodness.

Ma Eun-chan agrees to join us and starts packing his clothes that he left at the laundry.

Suddenly, Grandpa ruffles his hair roughly.

“Ouch.”

“Kid.”

“What?”

“What do you mean, what?”

He messes up his hair again.

I can’t lose, so I tickle his armpits, and Grandpa laughs loudly and tries to shake me off.

I’m exhausted.

Even if I grow older and reach my 20s or 30s, I don’t think I can beat Grandpa with strength.

“Haa. Haa.”

He lies down on the bed and breathes heavily for a while, then calls me affectionately.

“Hoon-ah.”

“Yes.”

“Grandpa is proud of you.”

“Me too.”

“You’re proud of yourself?”

“I’m proud of Grandpa!”

Grandpa’s joke is so absurd that I end up laughing.

Two days later.

On the plane to Switzerland, I read a brochure about Art Basel.

It takes less than an hour to get to Basel, but Grandpa is already asleep.

“Hoon-ah.”

Ma Eun-chan whispers to me.

“Yes.”

“This is amazing. You can lie down without tilting the seat back?”

He points to the seat adjustment button and says.

“Here, eat this.”

They gave us an appetizer, a salad, and a pork dish, but he didn’t like them, so he only ate the cheesecake that came out as an appetizer.

“What is this?”

“They gave it to me when I said I was hungry.”

“You said you were hungry?”

“You should say it too.”

Ma Eun-chan looks around and asks the flight attendant if he can have more cheesecake.

The flight attendant smiles and answers, and he opens his mouth in delight.

“Can I ask anytime?”

“Yes.”

“I want to live here.”

“Me too.”

We smile at each other.

“What are you reading?”

“It’s an introduction to Art Basel.”

“I don’t know. How is it different from a biennale?”

He said he didn’t know how an exhibition like the Münster Sculpture Project and an art fair like Art Basel were different.

To be honest, I didn’t know exactly what was different either, so I was reading the introduction.

Apart from the fact that the works were traded and the people who came were different, it didn’t seem much different from other exhibitions. How should I explain it?

“Uh…”

I opened my mouth after thinking of an easy way to explain it.

“If a biennale is like a fashion show, then an art fair is like a department store? It feels like that.”

“Ah!”

“Do you get it?”

“I totally get it. Oh, thank you. I’ll enjoy it.”

Maeunchan said as he took the cheese cake.

“I think the art fair would be more fun.”

“Why? There are more experimental works at the biennale.”

“They say there are a lot of events at the Swiss Art Basel.”

He smiled as he pointed to the part that introduced various events that combined food and art.

“I’ll start from here.”

“Don’t you have to go to where your work is first?”

“Taeho will sell it well for me.”

I rented a booth under the name of Chocolatier and decided to sell three of my paintings and two of Henri’s props.

I hope they all sell, but I’m not too attached.

I participated because of the contract with the Bugrenelli shopping mall, but I don’t have to sell paintings anymore because I have a way to make money.

“I’ll just say hello if someone buys it. Before that, I want to see what kind of works are there.”

“There will be a lot of rich people.”

He seemed to think that a lot of people who were financially comfortable would come because art works were usually traded at high prices.

“I thought so too, but Taeho said it’s not always the case.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It’s rare for real rich people to come in person. They send agents.”

“Oh. I guess so.”

“It’ll be hard to see their faces even if they visit.”

Bang Taeho came out.

“Don’t they get a lot of attention?”

“That’s why they’re more careful. They might not like the noise. Usually, they look at the work samples in a separate place and decide.”

“Then there’s no reason to go in person, right?”

“If they choose a work from the sample, they move the real thing to a private room and show it.”

“Huh.”

Do they have to do that?

It’s hard to understand the minds of rich people.

“I’ll send the luggage to the hotel. You can give it to him.”

As soon as we arrived in Basel, Switzerland, we headed to the venue.

There was a huge building with a shark fin color and Art Basel written in white letters.

I thought there would be few people because it was a VIP entrance day, but it was crowded with people.

“Let’s go to the booth first.”

“Yeah.”

Bang Taeho and I entered as sellers and Grandpa and Maeunchan entered with VIP tickets.

“Wow.”

I didn’t make a sound, but I was as surprised as Maeunchan.

The building that looked so big from the outside was filled with people, pillars, and works.

The works were so diverse, moving, hanging from the ceiling, etc. that I couldn’t focus.

This was the first time I felt this way since the Whitney Biennale.

"Oh! Julian Pio!"1)

Maeunchan shouted as he saw the work on the right pillar.

It was a video of people walking.

“Do you know him?”

“Of course. He’s very famous.”

I shook my head.

There are so many people who are introduced as famous in the art world or the YouTube world, but I don’t know many of them.

Maeunchan approached the work and listened.

I wondered what it was and tried it, and I heard the noise of the city.

Car horns, crosswalk announcements, occasional conversations, etc.

Now that I look at it, the people walking are also like that. It’s a work that simplifies a scene of the city.

I thought I could express it in this way and stood in front of the work of the person named Julian Pio for a while.

“It’s a refined picture.”

“Yes!”

Ma Eunchan nodded happily as I shared my impression.

“Everyone says Julian Pio’s works are simple, but he’s someone who thinks more about the origin than anyone else. He omits and simplifies to show what’s left in the end.”

I agree.

There are many people in this work, but they are not described in detail.

But even with those simple expressions, they are so distinctive that you can tell who is who.

It’s amazing that you can distinguish people without even facial features.

“Let’s go to the booth first and look around later.”

I followed Grandpa’s words and headed to the booth.

“Director. Teacher, Hoon-ah.”

Jung Ilho, the team leader of Chocolatier, greeted us warmly.

“How is it?”

“Oh, please. It’s been crazy since yesterday.”

I exchanged brief greetings with the staff of Chocolatier who prepared and managed the booth.

They were all busy dealing with customers without time to ask how they were.

“It’s good.”

Grandpa looked around the booth with satisfaction.

“It’s so cool.”

The booth decorated with golden sunflowers and irises was quite impressive.

Should I say it’s modern or minimalistic?

It’s very intense and colorful compared to other booths that are simple and tidy.

I didn’t have time to care about the booth while working on Nana and Anglina, but they did better than I expected.

They are reliable people.

I think I can enjoy the sightseeing without worrying.

“Grandpa, I want to go there.”

“Huh?”

He took out a map and pointed to the art and food venue and laughed.

“This kid. You didn’t eat and only had snacks for a reason.”

“I have to go.”

Cooking is an art that gives a different emotion than the art works.

I can’t miss the combination of art and food.

“Okay. Let’s go since there’s no problem. How about you, Ma?”

“I want to see the works, is that okay?”

“Why not? Let’s meet here later.”

“Okay! Hoon-ah, enjoy your food.”

I parted with Ma Eunchan and told Bang Taeho that I was going to look around and moved on.

As I looked around the venue, I noticed that there were hardly any works with prices.

“They must sell a lot at auctions.”

“That’s usually the case. Sotheby’s, Christie’s, Phillips, they all join in.”

The event where the world’s three major auction houses participated showed the status of Swiss Art Basel.

“Don’t they sell by direct contract?”

“There are cases like that too.”

It was a bit unusual that one work was auctioned and two works were sold by direct contract.

Come to think of it, Angli also put everything up for auction.

It makes sense that putting them on the auction house would create a higher price.

“Ah.”

“Hehe.”

There was a huge chocolate fountain at the entrance of the Art & Eat venue.

It was a painful thing to just look at the chocolate flowing down.

“Hoon-ah.”

Grandpa called me and I turned my head and saw someone drawing with chocolate.

He didn’t use a brush, but smeared chocolate on his palm and drew.

It was dynamic.

“It’s so cool.”

“Hehehe. You seem to like it more than the main exhibition.”

This place, the Art & Eat venue, is the main exhibition for me.

“There’s pizza too.”

I quickly moved my eyes and oh my god.

There were several pizzas shaped like pop art works with various kinds of paprika, cheese, and meat.

They were even baking pizza in the back.

“Do you want a slice?”

“Yes!”

The staff put a slice of pizza on a plate for me.

I ate it with great expectation, but it didn’t taste good because there was too much paprika.

It looked good, but it wasn’t good as a food.

“Why? Don’t you like it?”

“It’s unique.”

I couldn’t say it was tasteless in front of the person who made the pizza, so I mumbled something in Korean that he wouldn’t understand.

“How is it?”

“Three points.”

I heard Korean from the next booth.

I turned my head to follow the voice and saw a handsome man eating curry with a sour face.

1)Julian Opie

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