tokyo voice

"Is it to pursue the result first, and then go deep into the truth?"

"The pursuit of the result is certain. As for whether they will explore art itself later, it is not important to most art candidates."

"Why?"

"Because most of it is just used as a springboard, an aid to the orthodox college entrance examination, a shortcut that seems easier than improving math, physics and chemistry scores."

"Isn't this going from one quagmire to another abyss?" Zhongtian Lisha was quite puzzled.

"Well, it's just that before jumping off, no one knew it was a trap, including me." Yin Ze shrugged, "Miss Zhongtian, you became interested in it when you were young, gradually accepted guidance, digested knowledge slowly, and took the test step by step. Did you get admitted to an art school?"

"Yes." The girl nodded.

"It's really stable, then the time from laying the foundation to taking the test must be shorter than yours." The man said, "It only took five months."

"Hasn't it been half a year?" Zhongtian Lisha was a little surprised, "Is your talent so strong?"

"It has nothing to do with my talent. I'm a real mediocre person. In the end, I just barely crossed the standard line. As for hard work, I always don't get enough sleep. I can really fall asleep standing up." The man Take a sip of wine.

After arriving at the basement with traces of graphite mess before 40 o'clock, the uncle security guard in his [-]s will calmly lock the door, and will not open it until meal time and evening dismissal.However, the back door can still be squeezed out if you want to, but there is another wolf dog that is tied up there. If you are not careful, your butt will get a painful kiss from the dog.

So frequently going to the toilet has become the brothers' favorite thing to do, not because of physical illness.Instead, in a closed space surrounded by mechanized and repetitive sounds, except in front of the easel, there are not even many places to sit. Going to the clean bathroom without the rustling of pencils and watching the news are one of the few places where you can temporarily relax and escape. s Choice.

"Do you think painting is a handsome thing?" Yin Ze's fork drew meaningless circles on the plate.

"It's a little difficult to judge." Zhongtian Lisha did not give a definite answer.

"Do you know Modigliani?" Yin Ze said suddenly.

"It's a painter, I have an impression." Ren Tianlisha pulled out the vague knowledge from her mind, "It seems that he enjoys almost the same level of praise as Picasso, but he is remembered as a typical example of an unfortunate genius .”

"A century ago, when Modigliani drank to drink away his sorrows in the dilapidated studio in Paris, Picasso, who was three years older than him, already had a crowd of fans and a high price for his paintings. The former ended up lying on the streets of Paris like a tramp He died in his clinic, and before he died, he sang the poems of his hometown in his native Italian, and his wife Jenny, who was about to give birth for the second time, also jumped from the window on the fifth floor at the 31st hour of her husband's death. Crushed on the street stones, the 24-year-old Jenny followed her husband with the baby in her womb, and the one-year-old eldest daughter who remained alive became an orphan.” Yin Ze simply told the life of the deceased.

Picasso attended the humble funeral in the heavy snow. He and the man buried under the tomb are another extreme. He is naturally brilliant and is the only painter who has ever lived to witness his work being included in the Louvre.

And that unfortunate genius, regrettably, was revered only after his death.

The owner of the coffee shop hurriedly searched for his works, because the art dealers were eager to get them, but those works had been eaten by mice because they were piled up with sausages.

Critics at the same time belatedly said that Modigliani's sketches are elegant and graceful, and his lines will never touch water. open his lines.

However, the skeleton can't hear this. The last thing he knows is the cold and dirty home, the cigarettes that hurt his lungs, and the alcohol and poison that numb the spirit.His sweetheart, who was his model, also died, and died after him.Only painting was the only stable element during his lifetime.

"I have seen a movie of the same name about him before. I watched it in an institution. At that time, I had given up hope for this road. At that time, I also knew nothing about art history, and I didn't understand the meaning of classical. I don't know who this person is. So I don't know the many flaws and setting loopholes of this movie. I just think it's beautiful in form, so maybe a layman can enjoy watching it. I happen to be that layman, holding a pen A humble layman." Yin Ze murmured.

"I've seen it too." Taneda Lisha paused, then said.

"Have you seen...?" Yin Ze looked up in surprise.

"Well, the director didn't intend to make this movie into a documentary, so he changed a lot of historical facts. I think it's okay." Zhongtian Lisha looked out the window, her thoughts drifted away, "Paris at the beginning of the [-]th century, that's really It was a fascinating era, where countless geniuses emerged, various artistic ideas collided, and people lived a bohemian bohemian life."

"I forgot all of these, but there was one passage that touched me deeply, and I would always think of it inadvertently afterwards." Yin Ze said.

"Could it be that a genius died young?" Zhongtian Lisha guessed.

"No, guess again." Yin Ze looked at the girl.

"Picasso turned out to be a fat man with a beer belly?" Naneda Lisa frowned.

"...No." Yin Ze was ashamed.

"At the end of the Paris Annual Painting Competition, Modi's work finally shocked everyone, and everyone cheered for it?" Taneda Lisa thought for a while.

"No." Yin Ze shook his head.

"What part of the story makes you feel particularly deeply?" Taneda Lisha approached and asked.

"It is the darkness before dawn before life gains brilliance."

Yin Ze looked directly at the delicate cheek nearby, spoke slowly, and recounted a plot.

"The eldest daughter was sent to the shelter because of his incompetence as a father. Modi ran through the endless rain, and finally walked into the bar completely soaked, picked up the leftover wine that belonged to someone else on the table, and sat down. Picasso in the distance saluted, and then wrote his name on the entry form on the wall. He was no longer confused, looked around his colleagues with provocative eyes, and finally only stared at Picasso, and Picasso also walked slowly After getting down, he took the pen in Modi's hand, and signed his name immediately. The bar was full of life in an instant, and those who knew this unlucky ruined chicken, and those who didn't, were all applauding and cheering."

Naneda Lisa also recalled a little bit, she just watched that movie by chance, she remembered, that part was also a turning point, when the hero pushed open the door and strode in, when the intense piano sound resounded, depressing The long-awaited mood was finally released.

After that, the film is constantly interspersed with what he said, the most memorable things.

That was the process of preparing for the battle of the painters in the whole city.

Someone is sitting in a messy workshop, his wife is sewing clothes, and he is staring at the rotten animal skeleton; someone is setting up an easel on the roof; There are obsessions, no lust; some people huddle on the narrow bed and meditate; some people look up at the skylight in the spacious and luxurious studio.

A hoarse but elegant female voice sang continuously, somewhat like a hymn in a church.

Everyone began to write, from quietness to intenseness, from tranquility to wild dancing, their eyes widened, cigarettes in their mouths, and strong drinks, some people's thoughts were blocked, and they kicked over the easel. Some people are impatient and look crazy.

There is no dialogue in this paragraph, and there is no sound other than singing, but almost everyone can feel the fiery temperature, the emotions are being released, and the distressed moans and wanton laughter seem to be mixed together.

Fanatics are burning themselves.

In a dark corner of the classroom, Yin Ze huddled in a flimsy plastic chair, watching the scene.

"I thought they were so handsome and powerful." The man whispered.

In fact, those painters were not handsome at all. Some of them were workers, some were butchers, and some even had to sleep on the streets.

Sweating, greasy hair, sloppy clothes, smoking a bald cigarette, squinting his eyes, and spit out a mouthful of smoke from time to time, poor-quality wine dripping down the corner of his mouth, dirty, paint spilled everywhere, some People directly squeezed the paint on their hands, and even the most respectable Picasso among them was biting a cigar with an ugly expression on the verge of collapse.

Their bodies are dirty and messy, but they look strangely noble, as if everyone is talking and communicating with the gods, so they are so inappropriate but their eyes are hot.

When everyone finished painting with scars, they unanimously broke off the pens in their hands and threw them away, laughing loudly, like the satisfaction and relief of a knight after a holy war, and there will be no regrets in the future.

Arrogant carnival, without elegance and coquettish, but handsome for no reason, extremely handsome.

"I don't understand those things. Because I have neither talent nor a good starting point. I was wondering what Modigliani would have thought before he was alive. He must have thought that the so-called master is just wearing a A businessman with the veil of art, skills, connotation, and culture are just decorations to coat the works with a beautiful layer of gold?" Yin Ze laughed lowly.

But only in that paragraph, the man admits that he has been silently assimilated.

It has nothing to do with ability, wealth, or health.

The gesture of burning oneself and releasing dazzling light and heat is enough to make people intoxicated.

"At that moment, the whole city of Paris resounded with the sound of swords and swords, and all the blades sizzled when they were quenched... I used to hear that sound often, and I wondered if I was so proud and brilliant at that time .” Yin Ze frowned.

I am not such a good person.

It is not a joke that math test papers only do multiple-choice questions, but it is true.Just like this, even the luck is very bad, 10 questions can only get 3 right, and Xiti's total score of 15 shocked the whole grade.

When I was a student, the most outrageous thing I did was to jump over the wall and go to the black Internet cafe to fight against the sky, smoke in the latrine, and fight wits with the director of the moral education department.At that time, I was still far away from reality, and I didn't know what helplessness was at all. When I knew it in the future, I would only have a calm sentence.

Men are often rejoicing, fortunately, they have been to such a place, surrounded by such people, discussing skills and standards every day, standing in the shade of trees, looking up at the branches, thinking of the line between light and dark, on the bus Standing, I wonder if this dynamic will be easier to draw.

Suddenly there is only one thing left in life, working towards one goal.I forgot to eat, and every time I go all out, I feel like walking on eggshells. I am worried about the upcoming final exam, as if I am facing a trial.

In the end, I actually forgot that the original intention of coming here was to live a relaxed life.

Since I handed out my test papers, I forgot to eat, and I have no appetite at all. Instead, my abdomen is conveying the feeling of wanting to vomit. The weakness and discomfort of my body have deepened my despair.

Obviously.

I obviously worked so hard.

Read books with heart, think with heart, follow dogma with heart, practice until late, check for omissions with heart, observe with heart, accept criticism with heart, and work with heart.

But why, my hand can't grasp the light other than myself.

And when it was extinguished, the surroundings were all black.

God is unjust.

God is evil.

God has no mercy.

God does not exist at all.

The whole body was burned but still useless.

This is the feeling.

It turned out to be the case.

A dream is such an incredible thing. It is easy to cherish it when you are a few years old, but it becomes very difficult to continue to cherish your dream when you grow up. When you are young, you can just work hard, but when you grow up, you will be rational. Think and tell yourself that such a mountain cannot be climbed by yourself, and this kind of life is not something ordinary people can try by themselves.

When time passed silently, when the little guy in the mirror was slovenly, he finally felt at ease.

In the late night at the company's workstation, in the car heading to a classmate's wedding hundreds of kilometers away, on the lonely night on the third day of the family's funeral vigil, facing the price list, anyone with a distressed expression can dip it in soy sauce and bitter melon In the rented house for dinner.

On each such day, a man will rejoice once.

Before the age of 20, I had an unrequited romance, and I did it again without reservation.If it was me later, it must be difficult to ignite that kind of blood again.

Fortunately, the blood boiled once, this kind of romance, how many times can there be in life.

How much childishness, how much immaturity, and finally accompanied by the sound of "So that's the case", turned into a smile of relief, leaving only blessings for myself and others.

Yin Ze felt that his eyes were a little sour, so he put down the fork in his hand, instead of tasting the delicate dishes, he just took another sip of wine.

He avoided the girl's sight, and deliberately greeted the people nearby, and said gently, "Little brother over there, you seem to have been looking at us, hesitating, what's the matter?"

"Huh? Yes, yes, sorry. Excuse me."

A young man who was still childish was suddenly named, but he didn't hesitate any more, and walked over immediately.

"That, that, I'm a freshman student at Dongyi University, and I'm good at drawing portraits. I have obtained permission from the store manager. If any customers are willing, I can draw illustrations for them as souvenirs. The relationship between the two seems to be very good, Can I paint for you on site...? I only need 2000 yen."

Is it a form of street painting? In this high-end French restaurant, it can be regarded as a ceremony that adds color.

"I'm happy to patronize your business, but I have a small request." Yin Ze thought for a while, "Can you lend me your tools?"

"Uh, this, of course." The student was a little confused, but still handed over his tools.

"Thank you." Yin Ze took the board and the paper that was cut to a suitable size.

It's Barbizon 150g.

Barbizon is named after a French school of painting. The color of the paper is yellow, which is suitable for expressing light and atmosphere, as well as wicker strips.

Yin Ze took a deep look at Zhongtian Lisha. Just as the other party was about to say something, the man had already lowered his head.

Schrödinger's corridor of life is jokingly called a tax rebate of fate. This is not just a simple joke.

In this way, he has unparalleled eyesight, memory and calculation power. For example, others use hand-cranked computers in the 19s to record and understand nature, but he is at the photon level, and his efficiency has already been judged.

This is talent.

Destined to become a person on the cloud, a talent engraved in history as a bright star.

The number of famous paintings of traditional classicism may be two or three thousand.

Combining those precious treasures is the ultimate crystallization of human beings in pure painting skills. During the Renaissance, painters explored the application of anatomy, perspective, optics, and space in painting. The realistic technique that was pushed to its peak in the century was surpassed overnight by scientific cameras, but it is still the most cherished legacy left to us by the predecessors.

And these inheritances, the man has already accepted them all.

In the past, this was a delusion that could only be avoided, and the eyes were so bloodshot that they couldn't see it, but now it has come true.

Yin Ze wiped the paper with his thumb, and the tactile feeling was familiar and jerky, as if it had been a lifetime ago.

The first-year student who was standing behind watching the process froze, and for a moment he forgot to breathe.From the second minute that this strange guest was painting, his whole body was shivering, and the cold sweat could not be stopped.

Students have copied Bernini's sculptures in the past. What a superb workmanship, they chiseled the marble alive, and gave the stone the texture of blood and flesh, endowing it with soul.That is the end of the skill, bringing a road to the end, forcing the latecomers to go nowhere.

now.

now--

Students now feel that their hearts are missing beats.

About seven or eight minutes had passed.

Yin Ze sighed in a very low voice, and slowly turned the drawing board towards the girl.

Nan Tian Lisha, who has been keeping quiet all this time, stares blankly at the portrait on the drawing paper, her pupils gradually widen as if being lit up.For a moment, she felt as if she was looking in a mirror. She should be alive on the paper, and there was light in her pupils. Although there were only black, white and gray, she could miraculously make people feel the color of "blush".

It was an "incomplete" pair.

There are no shoulders, and only half of the face. The light yellow paper is filled with black mist and darkness, while the girl's face is hidden in it. That blurred face is not exciting enough, it cannot be called perfect, but...it is bleak In the eyes, only the slightest glimmer of light is so beautiful that people can't breathe.

There was a moment of silence.

It's just rubbing charcoal sticks with fingers casually, children can do it, this person just wiped out a pair of facial features in the dark.The student was at a loss, and he felt that he had been lucky enough to meet a remarkable figure.There are not many pens and ink, and the time is not long, but it has brewed a god-like texture. Even some professors with profound skills in the college may not have this calmness.

The painting was silent, yet captivating.

It seems to be able to see what does not exist, and to hear what does not exist.

This is painting.

The magic that seals emotions, impressions, sounds and memories on thin paper. The picture is as static as death, but it is also alive. It has life, but it will sleep forever without words. After the washing of time, it is finally in the sand of time. Grinded to yellow and turned to ashes, it quietly disappeared without noise or sadness.