Chapter 87 (2) - The Mysterious Art Museum

Chapter 87 (2) - The Mysterious Art Museum

At Artist Company, Paju.

Youngju, who had been observing me since dawn, approaches as I sit in front of my PC.

Arent you preparing for the exhibition? Theres no time to relax.

Oh, just searching for something.

What?

Youngju asks, looking at my monitor.

Oil painting? Are you submitting it for the exhibition?

Yeonjeong, a Western painting major, perks up her ears and runs over.

Brother, are you going to paint in oil?

Well, I havent decided yet.

Oil painting. A technique that enhances texture using knife painting.

After talking with my brother last night, I researched touchable paintings all night. Luckily, our company has a 3D printer, so we can create tangible, sculptural paintings after painting.

But can that be called a painting?

Though oil paintings have texture, they shouldnt be touched.

Oil paint, as the name implies, contains a lot of oil. It takes a long time to dry and can easily deteriorate from external impacts even after it dries.

What's created with a 3D printer is closer to a sculpture than a painting. I want to show real paintings to my brother and others who share his pain. But I cant think of a way.

Yeonjeong, showing interest, hovers around me and soon leaves, bored with my silent search. But Youngju, arms crossed, still stands behind me.

Hey.

Hm?

Thinking about your brother?

This guy knows too much about me.

Haha, kind of.

Is it okay?

Youngjus question carries a hidden meaning.

While a brother's concern is admirable, displaying paintings for the blind at a joint exhibition in a hotel might not be competitive.

Huh.

Youngjus thoughts are valid.

The people I met yesterday. Jeong Soohan, Joo Chaeyoung, Lee Hwajeong, Jeon Kwangho, Kim Jeongmin.

All of them are young painters leading contemporary art in Korea. In a competition with them, I might need to choose the best of what I can do.

But.

The museum inspired me to dream and to see the marginalized. And among them, I saw my brother. Is this really the path the museum wants me to take?

Feeling frustrated, I put down the mouse, pushed the chair back, and rested my head on my arms.

"Get up, get dressed."

"Huh?"

"Jiyeon! Can we go to the museum now?"

Jiyeon, who had returned to her work, looks up and checks the time.

"Yes, we can go in, unni."

"Let's go for a bit."

"That's great, I needed more photographic materials anyway. Just a moment."

Watching Jiyeon gather her coat and bag, I ask Youngju.

"Why suddenly there? Isn't the exhibition not started yet?"

Youngju confidently smiles and says.

"We're insiders, so we can get in. I believe the exhibition setup is almost complete. All the artworks have arrived."

".?"

"You'll understand when we get there. Have I ever talked nonsense? Just follow me, dude."

That's right, Youngju might talk a lot, but she doesn't speak nonsense.

I decide to trust her and follow Youngju out. The three of us, including Jiyeon, drive to the Ho-Am Art Museum in Youngju's car, park, show our credentials at the security office, and enter the museum.

The Ho-Am Art Museum, founded by a prominent corporate founder in Korea, keeps its beautiful gardens open even when there are no exhibitions. Over thirty gardeners are preparing the garden for the upcoming exhibition as we walk towards the museum.

Jiyeon leaves to request some documents from the office, leaving Youngju and me alone.

Youngju looks up at the stairs leading from the first-floor lobby to the second floor and says,

"People often remember Kim Hwan-ki for transforming abstract elements like dots and lines into art through his ink diffusion technique."

"That's true."

"But world-renowned artists all go through a process of evolution. They put in a lot of effort to find their unique technique, and many works are born in that process."

"I know, the moon jars are also products of his intermediary phase."

"There are works from before he painted the moon jars."

"Like what?"

Youngju flicks her finger and heads to the exhibition hall on the left side of the first floor.

As we enter the exhibition hall, a desolate scene unfolds before us, with artworks hanging in an empty museum. Youngju flicks her finger and points in one direction.

"That."

Where Youngju's fingertip points.

The answer lies at the very end of my gaze.

I beam with joy and put my arm around Youngju's shoulder.

"As expected, my friend!"

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