Van Gogh Reborn!

"The interview will be held at a press conference the day after tomorrow." 

Uncle Bang stepped up and blocked the reporters. 

By the way, I don’t know why they are asking about what conversation I had with Henry Marceau. 

It's just amazing that I get involved with him everywhere. 

“Let's go in.” 

John Carter beckoned people. 

Security guards at the Whitney Museum stopped the flood of journalists, so we were able to enter the lobby. 

Sihyeon could be seen shaking in the hands of the secretary. 

“ Sihyeon. Are you alright?” 

“What's wrong with everyone out there? I got scared." 

He's like a plant grown in a greenhouse, so he seems to be surprised by the sudden rush of Americans. 

"This is the lobby gallery." 

Hearing John Carter’s voice we moved our heads.

The Whitney Museum of Art seems to be exhibiting works from the lobby. 

The area of the building was large and the height is considerable, and if they are exhibiting works from the lobby, I have no idea how many works they will be having. 

"Don't we have to buy tickets?" 

John carter replied to Sihyeon's question with a smile. 

"During the biennial period, the admission is free." 

We went and checked the entrance fee on the board displayed. 

$30 for an adult. 

$20 for students. 

Free for those under 18 years of age. 

On Fridays from 7–10 pm, Museum admission is Pay-What-You-Wish. Advance timed tickets are strongly recommended as availability is limited.

It also operates a system called Pay-What-you-wish tickets. 

We can buy tickets at whatever price we want, so we can enjoy it as much as we want in Friday evening. 

This seems to be the reason why this place is so loved. 

"You can see the lobby gallery for free on any day." 

It's nice to hear John Carter's additional explanation. 

It's amazing that such a large art museum is maintained even if it is operated in this way. 

"It's maintained thanks to corporate sponsorship and publicity. Especially during the biennale, we get inquiries from various places." 

Come to think of it, corporate logos stand out here and there. 

The WH logo, which I saw in the WH Art Museum could be seen, and there was also a logo of the EI party, for which Sihyeon's father is the CEO. 

The logo of pineapple, the company that makes the tablet I use could also be seen. 

John Carter added that four years ago, only during the biennial period, they would not accept admission fees except for the top floor. 

"The popularization of art is the motto of the Whitney Museum of Art." 

With that philosophy, the exhibition is run, and so many people seem to have gathered. 

It's a great place. 

“Hun."

I turned my head to the voice of grandpa. 

"It's the work you wanted to see." 

When I moved my eyes in the direction grandpa pointed, two clocks were hanging side by side. 

Below it there was the name of Ferdinando Gonzalez.

I heard that the exhibition place is fair, so I didn't expect his work would be in the lobby gallery. 

No, it’s not a bad place either. Maybe it’s the best place in a sense since people can see it as soon as they enter the museum. 

"Is it the Ferdinando Gonzalez that Alexa Factory Newtube channel ranked number one?" 

Sihyeon came close to me and asked.

"Yeah. It seems so." 

It is close to the entrance, so many visitors see it, but they pass it after just giving a glance. 

Looking closely, it is not only the same design clock, but the time in both clocks is also the same. 

Both the minute hand and the second hand move together. 

Looking at it Sihyeon tilted his head and asked. 

"Did he make this clock?" 

"I don't know." 

It's plain, and it's an ordinary design that we can see anywhere. 

Above all, there's no title. 

"I don't think he made it himself." 

Grandpa came forward and answered Sihyeon’s questions, but questions kept popping one after another. 

Can industrial products that are not made by the Artist be called works? 

I looked at the clocks that were moving in a similar manner, but I couldn’t understand what Ferdinando Gonzalez wanted to say. 

Two clocks Two times. 

I can only guess that he wants to talk about the concept of living the same time. 

I looked at grandpa and Uncle Bang, but it seems the two also don't seem to have found anything either. 

"It's strange." 

Sihyeon's words might be the most honest appreciation that represents the current mood. 

During my stay here, I don't know if I can understand the meaning of these two title-less wall clocks or talk to Ferdinando Gonzalez. 

"There are so many people." 

Sihyeon said while looking around. 

I couldn't look at the exhibition room since I was distracted by the wall clock, but surely this huge room is constantly filled with people. 

Ferdinando Gonzalez's work is relaxing because people don't stay long, but other works are seen properly. 

While looking around, I found something strange. 

"There's no pillar?" 

"Yes. There are no pillars in the Whitney Museum to distract the audience from viewing the works." 

John Carter added an explanation.

How advanced is architecture to build a wide and high building without a single pillar? 

In terms of functioning as well as appearance, the museum is amazing. 

"It's cool Hun. Are you displaying your work in this place?" 

Sihyeon asked with his sparkling eyes. 

I am also excited. 

I can't display it right now, but I want to display [Mask] as soon as possible. 

“Yes.”

“I wish you could hang your other paintings too.” 

As Sihyeon said, it's a shame. 

[Sunflower], [Guest], and [Frost Wheat Field] are already out of my hands, but there is still a new painting, so there is no need to be discouraged. 

I looked at [Mask] Uncle Bang was holding and urged John Carter. 

“ Can we go?”

"Yes. This way please." 

I followed John Carter while looking at the exhibits. 

I couldn't look closely since they were crowded.

Maybe I should take a look around slowly after presenting the [Mask]. 

“I'll be watching the works here.” 

“OK. I'll call you, once everything is over.” 

“Okay.” 

I entered the room leaving Sihyeon with the secretary. 

As I entered the guided office room, a man greeted me warmly. 

Michael Ping, a Chinese-American curator.

He seems to be not a member of the Whitney Museum. 

It is said that the Biennale is conducted by inviting external curators from the year 2000 to avoid customized exhibitions. 

It wouldn't have been an easy decision. 

The more I get to know about the museum, the more I admire it. 

"I was really looking forward to it. Then, can I see your work?" 

"Yes." 

Uncle Bang placed the tightly wrapped [Mask] on the table. 

It would have been convenient if we had asked a professional delivery company, but it was faster to bring it this way since it was completed the day before yesterday. 

I ripped off the layers of wrapping. 

John Carter and Michael Ping, who saw [Mask] moaned quietly. 

"It's a self-portrait. Is it oil pastel?" 

“That's right.” 

They are quick to notice that it's painted with oil pastel. 

They have a good eye, perhaps because they have been dealing with paintings for a long time. 

John Carter smiled. 

"It's a painting that suits the expression young Van Gogh." 

It is an ambiguous comment, but it is certainly a negative review. 

He said it in a way that wouldn't make me feel bad. 

On the other hand, Michael Ping, who was staring at [Mask] said honestly. 

"It’s not bad." 

He did not hide his discomfort. 

"Expressive techniques are no different from Van Gogh’s. Color, too. It's a little more detailed, but this one." 

Michael Ping shook his head. 

Then he sighed and suggested it in a sincere voice. 

"I'll give you some more time. If it's still not possible, it's good to aim for the next biennial. I think exhibiting this painting will have a bad effect on Ko Hun." 

"Michael." 

John Carter stepped up to dissuade Michael Ping. 

"John, this is for him. I know. Ko Hun is really talented. But this time he was running out of time." 

While listening to Michael Ping, grandpa laughed. 

Uncle Bang and I couldn't hold back anymore and burst into laughter. 

Michael Ping looked at us with his eyes wide open in disbelief. 

"It's not something to laugh about." 

He came forward and looked straight at Uncle Bang. 

"I heard you worked as a curator Mr. Bang. Would you hang this picture? All I can say is he copied Van Gogh. It's not good for his future either." 

I can trust this guy. 

No artist can make all paintings a good work.

Michael Ping doesn’t seem to be a person who looks only at the artist's name while exhibiting works but also judges it as a work. 

I was relieved by his unshakable, determined voice. 

“It's not done yet.” 

Michael Ping and John Carter blinked as if they couldn’t understand what was happening. 

“I asked you for a presentation, right? It'll be finished then. Please decide whether to exhibit it or not after the presentation." 

It would be complicated if curator Michael Ping stopped me. 

But Uncle Bang’s company Sunflower and the Whitney Museum already have a written contract. 

In the first place, it is an event that freely displays various works, the exhibition itself will be possible unless there was a natural disaster or damage to the work. 

Michael Ping sighed as he looked at me. 

“Mr. Ko, I hope my judgment is wrong.” 

“Thank you.”

He shook his head and sat down. 

"Then the presentation ceremony." 

Uncle Bang stepped up. 

"It's possible at any time. The seats are already set, so we'll contact the media if you want. As you can see, it's not that hard to find a reporter." 

As John Carter said, the museum was full of reporters inside and outside, so it won't be a big problem. 

“Is it possible tomorrow?” 

I can't wait anymore, so I asked bluntly.

Michael Ping wrapped the painting in cloth. 

Another employee came in and took [Mask]. 

“Of course.” 

Michael Ping reached out his hand. 

“Mr. Ko, don't be impatient.” 

“Yes, I know.” 

I happily accepted his warm advice by holding hands. 

Michael Ping and the staff went outside with [Mask]. 

"Then I'll show you around." 

I thought it would be over once I gave the painting, so I tried to go back to sleep, but it seems like they have something prepared. 

John Carter guided us. 

While going out grandpa smiled satisfactorily and asked, 

"What do you think?" 

"I'm looking forward to it. They're a lot more capable than I thought." 

With serious and reasonable people like John Carter and Michael Ping, I think the Whitney Biennale was able to grow into the biggest exhibition in the world. 

"I want to participate as often as possible.”

"Haha. It's not that easy." 

If I had known that there was such a good event, I would have prepared for it in advance. 

It's a shame that all I can do now is only bet on one work that I have. 

I sent a message to Sihyeon on my Smartphone and asked him where he was. 

"Hmm?" 

Grandpa and Uncle Bang suddenly stopped walking. 

I raised my head and looked at them. 

Both of them look perplexed. 

"What's wrong?" 

"No. it’s….." 

Uncle Bang lifted me up so that I could see.

Maybe because he thought he couldn't explain it. 

At the end of my sight, my paintings [Sunflower] [Guest] and [Frost wheat field] were hung side by side on one side of the wall where there are many people. 

"……uh?" 

(To be Continued)

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