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The Final Battle (23)
A lot had happened while I was taking a break in Paris.
First, writer Lee Hanna and Bang Ye-eun had finished their one-year preparation for studying abroad and finally settled in Paris.
Thanks to being sold at an unbelievable price recently, Bang Tae-ho also got a fair amount of money, but I was worried that buying an apartment in downtown Paris would be too burdensome for him, but it wasn’t.
Writer Lee Hanna’s novel , which was adapted into a drama of the same name, was a huge success in France, and the translated novel was also very popular.
It was an interesting political thriller that kept me up all night, but I was a bit surprised that it was popular in France, where people tend to have more liberal relationships.
As more people cheated on their lovers, the abnormal possessiveness and ownership of the novel’s protagonists seemed to appeal to them.
But I hated anyone who was obsessed with Henri because of him. It’s a strange world.
Another thing was that I welcomed Ma Eun-chan as a guest.When he first came, he only brought one bag, and when I asked him, he said he didn’t have a place to store his works, so he couldn’t even think of keeping them on canvas.
He only saved his works as photos or videos, and he tore up or gave away the canvas paintings, and he only brought a few that he liked, which made me sad.1)
I decided to secure enough storage space for his works when the gallery was completed.
Lastly, Henri Marso contacted me several times.
He didn’t mention anything about what happened in Basel, Switzerland, and he suddenly asked me to go to Berlin, so I refused to go with him.
I didn’t hate him, but I didn’t have the confidence to be with him unless he changed.
As I expanded my horizons and worried about things, time passed and it was July 28th.
Three days before the Venice Biennale, the Münster Sculpture Project award ceremony came.
It was a prize given by the citizens of Münster, who were grateful, and it was much more valuable than the prizes I received from places like the Art Nouveau Competition or the SNBA Salon.
“It’s quiet.”
“Well, it’s been over six weeks since the opening. But there are more people than I thought, right?”
Bang Tae-ho pointed to .
As he said, there were still people waiting to appreciate it even after six weeks of opening.
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes! It felt like I was at an amusement park!”
I could hear the conversation of the family who came out after the appreciation.
The building itself acted like an exhibition hall, allowing the audience to naturally feel the flow of time, which seemed to convey the intention well.
The sculpture was unfamiliar, and in fact, it was ambiguous whether was a sculpture.
Maybe I couldn’t have made such a work without Henri.
I would meet him at the award ceremony today. I wonder if we can reconcile.
As I thought about it, I saw a familiar man coming out of with his entourage.
I approached him with a friendly feeling.
“Thank you for coming again.”
A stubborn face that came from deep wrinkles. A short stature. The man who trimmed his beard well raised his glasses and made a strange expression.
He must have been Danaka.
“You are…”
“How was it?”
I thought a simple conversation would work, but I couldn’t tell if he didn’t understand me or didn’t want to answer.
I felt a little embarrassed and smiled, but he turned his back.
I hurriedly called him to stop.
“Mr. Danaka.”
The man turned around in surprise.
“Here. Take this.”
I guess he didn’t understand me, so I grabbed his hand and gave him two candies that I had.
“It’s delicious.”
I smiled again and turned around, and Grandpa and Bang Tae-ho were on guard against Danaka.
“Hoon-ah. Why did you do that? You know what he did to you.”
Grandpa scolded me with a grim face.
He must have remembered that he said my painting was childish at my first solo exhibition.
I didn’t know it at the time, but later I found out what he meant by mentioning Chocolatier.
“But he came to see my work again.”
“Oh, boy.”
Grandpa knew what I was thinking.
He probably came to belittle me again this time, but I believe that sincerity will someday reach him as he is human.
Loving is easier than hating.
Meanwhile, Danaka looked down at the candy that Ko Hun gave him.
“That kid is definitely mocking you, sir. He’s a wicked one. How can he do that without blinking an eye?”
Everyone around him blamed Ko Hun, but Danaka didn’t think so at all.
He couldn’t think that there was such an intention in that pure smile.
I couldn’t bring myself to answer him when he approached me so calmly and greeted me.
“Masuda.”
“Yes, sir.”
Masuda Kondo replied cheerfully.
“Do you remember when your critique will be published?”
“I believe it will be after the award ceremony today.”
They had adjusted the publication date of the critique collection to avoid influencing the Citizen Award.
“…”
“Is there a problem, sir?”
Hirobumi Tanaka was lost in thought for a moment.
He had finally realized what Kohun was pursuing through , and had written a piece to correct his past mistakes, but it had not been made public yet.
He wouldn’t have handed it over first just because he was the winner.
To Kohun, he was still nothing but a nitpicker.
He had been pressured by the association to suppress the young genius from Korea, and had forced his way through, only to be greeted warmly by him.
“Was that so.”
Hirobumi Tanaka felt like he couldn’t hold his pen anymore.
July 28, 2030, 2 p.m.
The first Citizen Award ceremony in the history of the Sculpture Project was held at the Munster City Hall.
Fourteen countries from Europe came to cover the event, and Leon Koenig, the artistic director, took the microphone in front of 3,000 Munster citizens.
“55 years ago, our Munster received a sculpture from Henry Moore, the pioneer of abstract sculpture.”
Leon Koenig looked around.
“The reaction of Munster at the time was very cold. They couldn’t understand what he had made. Now it’s a work that sells for tens of millions of pounds.”
Kohun smiled faintly at Leon Koenig’s words, but no one in the audience laughed.
Kohun blinked his eyes in confusion.
“Then Klaus Bussmann stepped up. He said that we should educate the citizens about public art, and that we should bring out the artworks that are stuck in the museums to our daily lives. That’s how the Sculpture Project, which started in 1977, finally bore fruit.”
Leon Koenig, the artistic director, turned around and spread his arms toward Kohun and Henri Marso.
“Henri Marso, Kohun, please come up.”
As Kohun and Henri Marso got up from their seats, the citizens applauded enthusiastically.
As agreed in advance, Henri Marso went to the podium first.
“Let me start with one thing.”
Henri Marso asked Leon Koenig.
“Is an expensive work a good work?”
“Haha. Well. I can’t say that for sure.”
Henri Marso slowly turned his gaze from Leon Koenig to the citizens in front of him.
“Even if Henry Moore’s work is worth tens of millions of pounds, its value is only recognized by the person who bought it. You don’t have to understand its value. You don’t even have to learn from it.”
“Uh, uh.”
Leon Koenig and the Munster Sculpture Project committee were flustered, but Henri Marso didn’t hesitate at all.
“Fortunately, unlike the organizers who are still stuck in the elitist mindset, you seem to know what is right. I’ll take this award gratefully.”
Henri Marso showed the glass plaque that the citizens had made for him and returned to his seat.
The citizens cheered and the Munster Sculpture Project side was very displeased as Kohun stepped forward.
The podium was too high to see his face, so the event assistant hurriedly removed the podium and handed him the microphone.
“Thank you.”
The citizens smiled as Kohun thanked the staff.
“Uh. I don’t know how to start, but I’ll just start without any order.”
The boy took a breath and began to tell his story.
“I had a fight with a precious friend last year. We had such different thoughts and we were so stubborn that we still haven’t reconciled.”
Henri Marso glared at Kohun from behind.
“I think I’m right. But I guess that friend thinks he’s right too. We fought and scratched and pinched and did all sorts of things, but it was no use. I think we’ll be like that for the rest of our lives. I don’t think we’ll ever understand each other.”
The citizens enjoyed watching Kohun and Henri, who was frowning behind him.
“But as time went by, I wondered if we really had to understand each other. I wonder if it’s possible for someone else to fully understand each other. I don’t even know myself well.”
Kohun expressed the thoughts he had sorted out through Henri Marso, the Munster Sculpture Project, and the Swiss Art Basel.
“But that friend tried to make me understand him. And I might have unknowingly forced my thoughts on Henri, I mean, that friend. I’m not talking about that guy.”
Kohun tried to fix the situation hastily, but no one believed him.
“I get annoyed and really hate him sometimes, but when I look at the work we made together today, I think it was fun back then. I guess I’ve grown fond of him. It’s not that guy, really.”
“You, this!”
Henri Marso tried to get up, but Arsen held him back.
“That human just said something similar. The Münster Sculpture Project is a really great event. It brought you and me together. It made us fond of art and each other. Even if we don’t understand each other.”
Ko Hun said, looking at Leon Koenig, the artistic director.
“I think the word ‘education’ causes some misunderstanding. Wouldn’t it be better to say it’s a process of getting to know each other or doing something together?”
Henri Marso spoke vehemently, but the boy also felt uneasy about the idea of educating the ignorant masses about modern art.
“Thanks to you, Münster exists. And the Sculpture Project has been going on for almost 60 years. Thank you for loving it.”
As Ko Hun bowed his head with a plaque of gratitude, applause slowly spread among the citizens.
[Henri Marso lashes out at the Münster Sculpture Project ceremony, “Get rid of the elitist mentality.”]
[Ko Hun, “It’s all thanks to you.”]
[Ko Hun and Henri Marso fight as soon as the ceremony ends]
[The two genius artists of this era ring the bell]
Henri Marso and Ko Hun, who received the Citizen Award at the Münster Sculpture Project, gave a sharp rebuke to the organizing committee.
Henri Marso criticized harshly, “You have to get rid of the elitist mentality of educating the citizens.” Ko Hun used his anecdote with Henri Marso as a metaphor and said, “There is no need to understand each other. It’s enough to be together.”
The two most prominent artists of this era say that art is not only something that artists provide, but also something that is created in a bidirectional way with the public.
Meanwhile, Ko Hun and Henri Marso fought again that day and showed their unchanging friendship.
1)A common problem for art students.
Most art students who can’t afford a studio or a storage room remove the canvas fabric and reuse the frame.
For installation works or sculptures, the situation is even worse, so they save them as digital files such as videos or photos and use them for their portfolios.
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