The Reborn Genius of an Arts High School - Chapter 102

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 102.
Croisées, the prestigious French art journal.
Thomas Dupont, a junior reporter there, had taken a photograph in front of Montrebleu first.
Once upon a time, magazines had kept people alive, but now was the age of internet articles.
The work a magazine journalist had to do had multiplied several times over, and just as many newcomers passed through this industry.
Thomas too believed he was just passing through here for a quick paycheck.
He dreamed of art criticism, and he believed he was the sort of person capable of greater things than mere journalism.
“Still, there’s been quite the buzz about this emerging talent.”
His superiors had emphasized it multiple times—he needed to do this properly.
Montrebleu’s youth competition.
Its winners typically put on quite respectable exhibitions each year.
But this exhibition was particularly unusual.
Normally it would take two years after winning before holding a solo exhibition, yet this one had opened after merely half a year.
It was more than enough to provoke curiosity within the industry, alongside a measure of bewilderment.
‘There really are a lot of people, aren’t there.’
Being the opening day, there were many visitors, but most appeared to be people connected to the industry.
Journalists from various media outlets like himself, or artists and collectors with ties to Montrebleu.
After surveying the gathered crowd, Thomas slowly entered the exhibition space.
The first exhibition hall he entered had walls and floor painted black on all sides.
And paintings filled the walls—brilliant blue waves, everywhere.
Having prepared himself beforehand with research on a student named Ye Ji, he could recognize them.
They appeared to be from the same series as the work collected by a major Korean conglomerate chairman.
The quiet, gently flowing waves of the deep sea revealed dimensionality through thick layers of paint built up upon each other.
Even under the exhibition hall’s lights, the ambiguous directionality seemed to reveal the uncertainty of life and the freedom it brings.
“……Unexpected.”
Without realizing it, Thomas let out a voice mixing admiration and curiosity.
Artists capable of mounting exhibitions quickly often favored abstract work.
Commonly, pieces that made the average viewer think, ‘I could paint that too.’
Of course, the beauty derived from color harmony and structural combination required the artist’s long experience and talent.
Experts recognized such distinctive qualities and assessed their value, but it was true that less physical time was needed.
In this modern age of churning out works like that.
It was also true that most pieces didn’t convey much in the way of painting skill.
But this student Ye Ji’s work was, for something done so quickly….
‘No, it goes beyond quick.’
The fluidity of the brushwork, the finished control of its traces. The resonance of the heart from the delicate color tones.
Everything was nearly perfect.
Gradually slipping beyond admiration into something closer to awe, Thomas photographed and moved to the next exhibition space.
That room, divided by partition walls, held paintings of yet another atmosphere.
Wall after wall.
Surreal works that seemed to have been plucked from a single moment of memory.
And as if proving that first impression, the work bore the title Memories.
‘…Beautiful.’
What appeared to be everyday scenery showed patches of ground from all around us.
A certain cracked asphalt, sandy earth distinct to the grain, pressed paving stones.
Upon the clear water pooled there, other landscapes reflected with the subtle ripples of water.
Tall buildings standing high, the taillights of passing vehicles, the tips of someone’s feet stepping over them.
The unbroken continuity of the most serene and comfortable daily life was rendered in ethereal colors and light, like a fairy tale.
Could it be because she was still so young?
The thought crossed Thomas’s mind that the overall atmosphere was excessively hopeful.
Aside from the fact that the work’s intended meaning was limited, it was certainly an artist showing promise.
“……No, wait.”
Thinking this way, Thomas suddenly withdrew the exhibition pamphlet he had tucked in his bag.
Ripples of the Soul.
And he retraced the emotions he had felt sweeping through the exhibition.
The freedom and uncertainty of life felt in the quiet of the deep sea.
The serene continuity of life felt within everyday memories.
Two emotions that seemed to stand at opposite poles were naturally woven together into one.
‘This is a debut exhibition?’
It wasn’t that kind of exhibition, desperate to show off anything and everything.
Because the artist’s intended meaning was clear, she had simply expressed it with focus.
Rather, the fact that she had arranged it without making it tedious was remarkable.
Thomas, who had entered the exhibition space out of professional obligation, found his pace slowing gradually.
Little by little, he found himself drawn into this exhibition.
Moving slowly through the works, Thomas’s steps halted before the final painting.
The Wave’s Answer.
“…….”
Thomas was rendered speechless, simply gazing blankly at the enormous work.
For a moment, he seemed to hear the sound of waves.
But it was only the sound of passersby’s clothing brushing against each other.
In the quiet exhibition hall, everyone slowed their steps slightly and stopped before the final painting.
People felt a mysterious sense of immersion in this work.
It was something different from being overwhelmed by its enormous scale.
As if they themselves had become part of that landscape the artist had painted.
A subtle sense of connection, as if everyone was together within the work itself.
Again, Thomas checked whether the sound of waves might be playing in this space.
It was such a perfectly immersive viewing experience in terms of flow.
Unlike the articles he had written driven by the professional duty of earning money.
In this moment too, sentences he wanted to write flooded his mind as if inspiration had struck him.
Thomas hastily pulled out his mobile phone to jot down notes as he left the exhibition hall.
‘I’m glad I came to this exhibition.’
How long had it been since he’d thought such a thing?
Unable to hide his mounting excitement, Thomas hurried from the exhibition space.
***
The opening was proceeding very successfully.
Ye Ji watched the visitors with a strange feeling.
Though she had unveiled her work in several places, the feeling was distinctly different now.
The visitors who had come here today had come solely out of curiosity about the work of this person called Ye Ji.
The reactions people showed the moment they stepped into the exhibition hall were therefore utterly unfiltered.
Some tilted their heads as if things weren’t quite what they’d expected, while others looked amazed as if surpassed in their expectations.
Rather, the diverse reactions lent a sense of reality to it.
‘As long as no one’s openly mocking, I’ll take it.’
Ye Ji caught herself thinking as much, half in jest.
She wasn’t particularly concerned with what the visitors’ first impressions of the work might be.
What mattered most was the ending.
The reactions and expressions of people as they encountered the final work and exited the exhibition.
“…….”
They all looked satisfied.
No matter what they had come expecting, or whether they’d expected anything at all.
If such underlying thoughts had been vividly apparent in the beginning, they were not at the end.
All the visitors who had viewed the works bore the same expression.
The beginning of her new life that she had sought to convey through her work.
All feeling both the overwhelming anticipation and excitement of it.
Everyone was exiting the exhibition, satisfied before the answer she had offered.
‘…Thank goodness.’
Only then did it feel real—that she had successfully launched her solo exhibition.
Savoring that feeling, Ye Ji sat on the bench near the exit for a long while, watching the visitors.
The gallery had offered to let her personally serve as docent for the works if she wished, but Ye Ji had decided against it.
What she wanted was the emotion conveyed through the work itself.
She didn’t want to forcibly guide people through additional explanation.
Just the natural emotion felt within the feast of visual color.
She hoped the visitors would feel only that completely, and leave.
“The reaction’s pretty good, huh?”
Ye Ji jumped at the unexpected voice.
“Professor? How did you get here?”
Hae Yun should have been at the London popup by now.
The Paris popup had closed last month after extension upon extension.
He must be incredibly busy around now….
“Wow, it exceeded my expectations. Congratulations on your solo exhibition.”
At Hae Yun’s theatrical request for a handshake, Ye Ji couldn’t help but laugh.
“No, well, thank you. But how did you manage to come all this way?”
“London to Paris is right around the corner.”
That couldn’t possibly be true.
When Ye Ji looked at him with that expression, Hae Yun chuckled and laughed without restraint.
“With enough money, most of the world is basically at your doorstep.”
“I see. In any case, I’m really grateful.”
It was truly kind of him to make time in the midst of his busy schedule.
As she thanked him for his congratulations.
The figure of Han Gyu waving broadly from a distance came into view.
Beside him, as expected, was Hae Yun.
“Grandfather!”
She had heard that he had arrived in Paris late last night.
Even accounting for his vigor, a long flight couldn’t be easy for someone of his age, so it seemed he had only now emerged after resting at the hotel.
“How did you come all this way?”
Ye Ji had wanted to go pick him up at the airport last night, but Han Gyu had curtly refused.
She hadn’t even been able to go, as Hae Yun had scolded her harshly—asking what business she had roaming about at that hour before the solo exhibition.
“I came on my own two feet. Ahem, well. There are quite a few people, and it’s quite a large and nice building.”
Though fatigue still showed on his face, his attitude was no different from usual, which was reassuring.
“I’m really grateful. Oh, this person is….”
As Ye Ji tried to introduce Hae Yun, he preempted her with a handshake to Hae Yun.
“Hello! I’m Hae Yun, Ye Ji’s teacher. I work in contemporary art.”
A lighthearted man with an easy smile.
Hae Yun regarded him steadily, then grasped and released his hand in a gesture ambiguous between a handshake and a rejection.
Then, very briefly, she countered.
“Teacher?”
At Hae Yun’s curt response, Han Gyu offered a handshake and reintroduced himself on her behalf.
“How do you do. This is Professor Hae Yun, who practices ink painting. I’m Lee Han Gyu, executive director.”
“Oh. I know. I’ve heard about you. Nice to meet you.”
Even as Hae Yun and Han Gyu exchanged pleasantries, Hae Yun’s expression grew distinctly sour.
Why was the Professor acting like this again….
She had seemed in excellent spirits just moments before, saying she wanted to see Ye Ji’s exhibition.
Han Gyu, wearing a puzzled expression, suddenly seemed to realize something and offered Hae Yun an additional explanation.
“To be precise, Professor Hae Yun here is someone who gave Ye Ji guidance when she first entered the competition—you might say she’s Ye Ji’s mentor.”
At the sudden explanation, Ye Ji could only wear a dumbfounded expression.
“Isn’t that right?”
At Han Gyu’s deliberate confirmation with Ye Ji herself, she found herself nodding almost instinctively.
“Ah, yes…. Yes. That’s right.”
It wasn’t wrong, exactly, but why was that such an important detail?
Wasn’t that an oddly awkward explanation?
Looking bewildered as she glanced back and forth between Hae Yun and Han Gyu, Ye Ji finally understood.
Looking at Hae Yun’s expression of vexation, glaring at Hae Yun with obvious displeasure….
Could it be that she was objecting to what Hae Yun had just said about being her teacher?

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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