Van Gogh Reborn!

“This?” 

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I turned to Uncle Bang’s voice. 

A work in which human silhouettes are overlapped in various colors was on display. 

The silhouette has different directions, heights, and shapes, but it is so full that there is no gap on the 40F canvas. 

Below the work, the title [Earth] and the name of the Artist named Matthias Jordo were written. 

The color sense is very unique. 

For the person underneath he uses color with high saturation, and the closer the person is, the darker it gets and creating a strange feeling. 

By placing bright colors on the other side of the people who bring negative images, one can guess how the Artist Matthias Jordo feels about the people around him. 

Who is this Matthias? 

What kind of work has he done? 

If Marceau puts it in such a great frame and hangs it in his favorite exhibition room, he must be a great Artist. 

“What kind of work does this person have done, Uncle Bang?” 

I asked Uncle Bang. 

“I don’t know.” 

It’s strange to hear that there is an Artist who is unknown to Uncle Bang who is more knowledgeable than anyone I know. 

“What do you think,” 

Henry asked as he approached. 

“I like it.
Not only is it unique, but the Artist has also captured his point of view well.
The colors are good.”

“I see.” 

“Mr.
Marceau.” 

Uncle Bang called Henry, who was about to go back after asking a question. 

“I’ve never seen this work before.
How did you find it? It’s the first time I’ve heard of this artist, was it released by an artist after changing his name?” 

Henry shook his head when asked by Uncle Bang. 

“I bought it at Florence Signoria Square.” 

“The square?” 

“He used to draw portraits with some paintings.
Arsene, how much did you pay for this?” 

“I remember 1,200 euros.
He was a boy who couldn’t go to school.
He must be an adult by now.” 

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Henry shrugged his shoulders and turned around with an odd expression, 

Hieronymus Bosch, Raphael, Jean-François Millet, Claude Monet and grandpa. 

Henry Marceau, who has collected works that will be recorded in history beyond the present time, is also keeping the works of an unknown artist. 

“What about this?” 

Uncle Bang pointed to the picture next to [Earth]. 

This is the first time I’ve seen this work. 

It is a splendidly decorated red clock tower, with the top painted green and stars attached. 

It’s a building like a Christmas tree. 

The title [Spasskaya Tower] and the unfamiliar name Natalya Ivanov were written below it. 

“I bought this in Moscow last year.
He’s an art student, and he can’t work during the semester, so he comes out to the streets and paints.” 

Arsene kindly explained this time again. 

Most of the works displayed on the left wall of the third exhibition hall are said to be works by unknown artists. 

“There are many works that we keep in the warehouse, but the works that piqued the interest of El patron are selected and displayed here.” 

This man really loves art, even though the dog-like personality is a problem, but at least thanks to this person, I think the art world has endured so far. 

Buying works gave new artists the courage to make a living and challenge their next work. 

Like Rousseau, who bought Millet’s work… 

I can’t take my eyes off Matthias Jordo’s [Earth] and Natalya Ivanov’s [Spasskaya Tower], which I got to see thanks to Henry Marceau. 

Even if you look at it again, it’s a work worth buying. 

There are traces of deep thought about how to look independent. 

I can’t believe that such talented artists are still continuing their dreams in the streets and small rooms without being recognized by the world. 

What a pity. 

“What’s that? It’s empty,” 

Arsene replied with a smile as I pointed to the empty space. 

“It was a place where we hung [Sunflower] and [Frost wheat field].
Now, as you know, it’s on display at the Whitney Museum.” 

“Oh.” 

As I nodded thinking that he had also hung my picture, a question arose. 

“What about [Guest]?” 

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So far, I have seen the works classified according to the chronological order and the artist’s name, but, strangely, the place my work [Guest] was missing. 

I’m sure Henry bought it, considering he hung it up at the Whitney Biennale. 

I wonder what happened. 

Did he put it in the storage? 

“[Guest] was hung on the opposite wall.
There.” 

“Oh.” 

When I turned my head, the place facing the sunflower was also empty. 

“El patron’s [Shadow] is a work that he planned after thinking about how to hang the [Sunflower] and [Guest] here.” 

I wondered how he came up with that idea, but unexpectedly, I found out how he conceived the idea for [Shadow].

Grandpa, who was thinking of something called Henry. 

When I turned my head to wonder what was going on, everyone turned in the same direction as my head as if they felt the same way as me. 

Grandpa said something unexpected. 

“I think I was mistaken about you,” 

Henry tilted his head slightly. 

“Stop by once after this.
I’ll pick and give a few works.” 

Henry opened his eyes wide. 

Everyone in the third exhibition room was surprised, but I was not surprised because I thought the same as grandpa. 

Grandpa thought Henry Marceau vulgar. 

Grandpa thought that he had another purpose in contacting him when he wanted to buy his artworks because he always acted to attract attention. 

However, Henry in front of us looks different, a person who finds nameless artists and sponsors them by buying their works. 

Maybe grandpa thinks the same as me. 

“I don’t need money.
You run an art gallery, so that’s good enough for me.
Consider this as a donation to your gallery.” 

Henry Marceau didn’t respond, the person who did not care about others and did what he wanted to do and say. 

After a long pause, he said

“Okay,” 

It was unfortunate that grandpa’s work was only at home, now I am also happy that he got to display it at this opportunity. 

“That’s amazing.
They built art galleries as well as Museums.” 

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When Emily Lever, the prop manager, admired, everyone thought the same without saying a word. 

Nolan also stepped up and asked Marceau, who pretended not to know anything with his arms folded. 

“Are you planning to display the work of an unknown artist in the museum?” 

“It’s worth hanging,” 

Nolan smiled slightly. 

“It must be quite large.
There are works that are dated.
From the Middle Ages to the present day.
The purpose of collecting artworks was to build an art museum, right?”

Henry Marceau did not deny it. 

Is this what Henry Marceau thinks of as his Noblesse Oblige. 

He seems to value numerous artworks, from historical masterpieces to pearls buried in mud. 

Arsene stepped up. 

“El patron took the words of Gilles Deleuze to heart.” 

It is a famous saying that all painters summarize the history of painting in their own way. 

I also deeply agree with that statement. 

Perhaps the Henry Marceau Museum of Art is a business to bring the words of Gilles Deleuze alive. 

“We tried to prove El patron’s position by exhibiting artworks from the past to the present and even the future.” 

Suddenly, unexpected words popped up and I didn’t understand them. 

“What do you mean?” 

When Uncle Bang asked, Henry, spoke on behalf of Arsen. 

“The purpose is to display the works that influenced me and the works that were baptized by me in one place.” 

It is the first time I heard a person other than a priest use the expression baptism.

“Everything that’s on display at the Henry Marceau Museum is what makes me.” 

“Uh… So are you thinking of the museum itself as a piece of work?” asked Emily Lever, the prop manager. 

“You understand quickly,” 

I, Uncle Bang, Director Nolan, and the production team were bewildered and couldn’t say anything when he answered that he considered the museum, like another self-portrait of himself. 

He could have said ‘To invigorate the art world.’ Or ‘To give hope and courage to an unknown artist.’ Or ‘For historical significance and so on.’ 

But Henry Marceau brought up an unexpected story. 

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The idea that all the history of painting is centered on him is beyond arrogant — it’s absurd. 

I think Henry Marceau, who I’ve seen so far, is a person who can think like that. 

Seriously, he can think that way. 

When I think about it, it’s scary, but at the same time, it looks amazing.

“Let’s pretend we didn’t hear what he just said!” Shouted grandpa in a loud voice.

When Nolan was working on a contract with Henry Marceau to rent a collection, I was eating a snack prepared by Sherry Gado with grandpa and Uncle Bang. 

I’m a little full, but I can’t give up the sweetness of Crème Brulee. 

“He was a lot more amazing than I imagined.” 

Grandpa was furious hearing Uncle Bang’s words. 

With great effort, I stopped grandpa who kept saying he would go back right away, because he was in a bad mood, and now it started again. 

“How can a person be so arrogant? Bang, are you okay with that? What? Baptism? Works? I can’t give my painting to such a place!” 

Uncle Bang calmed Grandpa. 

“The intentions are strange, but what he intends to do is good, right? At least because of him, many artists can continue their work.” 

“I’m just saying it because his intentions are impure!” 

Grandpa doesn’t seem to be able to accept Henry Marceau. 

Obviously, he didn’t want his painting to be part of the Henry Marceau Museum of Art, but my painting would be part of the Marceau Museum. 

And when I think about it, I don’t feel so bad. 

“It means that Marceau was influenced by my work, right? Even grandpa’s work.” 

“…Yeah.” 

“I thought he was a man who didn’t approve of anyone except himself.
But he is rather honest, so I think that’s the kind of person he is.” 

It is absurd to say that the artists who influenced him were baptized into his world, but I do not want to deny him. 

On the contrary, it is strange to think like that. 

“He is completely self-centered.
The one who influenced him, the one who got influenced by him, he thinks they are all expressing him.
It’s as if he thinks that the whole world revolves around him.” 

It’s weird when I say it out loud. 

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” 

I nodded to my grandfather’s question.

He really is a strange guy.