The Reborn Genius of an Arts High School - Chapter 42

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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 42.
Paris, France, Montravelu Gallery.
“It’s finally over…. At last…….”
The office staff member finished sending the email and slumped in front of the computer.
The other employees weren’t in much better shape.
They sat in a daze, staring into empty space with hollow eyes, trying to recover their exhausted minds.
Five minutes remained until closing time.
The office telephone had already been silenced, its receiver laid down so it couldn’t ring at all.
“Why are you all in such a state? Didn’t we agree that today we only needed to announce the results?”
Just then, Chloe opened the office door and stepped inside.
Everyone greeted her with a glance at the sight of her carrying an armload of coffee.
The Montravelu Gallery held considerable prestige.
By official count, they’d held twelve art competitions.
Naturally, there were established procedures from the past that would have made things easier to follow.
But this time was different. Very much so.
“Ah… this…. ah…..”
One of the judges was still deliberating over a final piece, eventually rejected, and sighing over it.
The office still held not just administrative staff but also curators and judges.
Selecting twenty winners had been exceptionally difficult this round.
Seeing Chloe’s puzzled expression, an employee carrying coffee approached.
“There are at least five pieces they’ve been agonizing over since yesterday.”
At the employee’s remark, Chloe smiled as if she couldn’t help herself.
Most of the judges this year were renowned critics rather than working artists.
For people known for their objectivity to agonize like this was telling.
“It’s too late to reconsider now.”
As Chloe patted the man’s shoulder and spoke, he nodded heavily.
“I know. I do know.”
With a sigh, he continued in a reluctant tone.
“I just keep thinking maybe we should have stretched it to twenty-three this time.”
The candidates had been unusually strong this round.
There were fine works, fine artists aplenty.
With such abundance, the online screening had been straightforward.
Simply gathering the obvious choices was already enough.
There was no need to deliberate.
The plan had been to gather everything first and evaluate in person—they’d rushed to announce results based on that—but then
so many excellent works showed up in person that it became a problem.
Narrowing them down to twenty felt nearly impossible.
Until the final day, opinions remained divided between those wanting to increase the number and those insisting on twenty.
“Since we’ll deliberate again in the final round anyway, it makes sense to narrow things down now.”
At Chloe’s words, the judge nodded.
It was regrettable, but the result was merciless.
Pass or fail.
Already divided into those two categories, the results had been announced.
But that was only about this competition.
These young students would have many more opportunities and works ahead of them.
“I wonder what kind of stir it’ll cause in five years.”
The judge couldn’t help but anticipate the futures of these artists.
When these young people entered society and matured, what extraordinary works would they present?
The art world would surely be shaken again.
“In any case, we’ll be heading out now.”
The exhausted staff finally gathered their wits and attempted to leave on schedule.
As they rose with their cups of coffee, the remaining judges one by one left their seats.
What remained was Chloe, still viewing the selected works,
“What do you think?”
and Marc Montravelle, director of the Montravelu Gallery.
“Well, you mentioned this girl reminds you of Katrine’s sensibility, so I did have some expectations.”
Before the two stood a work by Yeji.
Marc, who had the bearing of an elderly gentleman, answered while rubbing his eyebrows.
“I’m not entirely sure about it myself.”
The work before them displayed Eastern perspective and technique.
Of course, bold Western elements were woven in, so there was no jarring sense of incongruity.
But it felt premature to judge based on this work alone in comparison.
“Actually, it almost got rejected because the technical skill was too good.”
Experts could tell at a glance.
The facility of the brushwork in layering oil paint was anything but ordinary.
But since this was a youth art competition,
there were quite a few cases where parents or teachers lent a hand rather than the students themselves.
Consequently, works with excessively skilled execution tended to receive lower marks for authenticity.
However, the mixing of different styles showed subtle traces of awkwardness in places, so that could be overlooked.
“Besides, the subject matter. It’s certainly different from Katrine’s.”
The Katrine of old had never been an artist seeking unhappiness and negative emotion in her work’s atmosphere.
Yet she was an artist who couldn’t hide the unhappiness embedded within her.
The brightness that emanated from her works was like a pearl in mud.
Hope discovered by gazing into that unhappiness, by excavating it,
transmitted through light and color—that was Katrine.
“Perhaps because she’s still young, it’s definitely different. Isn’t it?”
The meaning contained in the work that the student Yeji had submitted in her application documents
carried a more forward-looking hope.
Anticipation about the world she would inhabit and her own potential.
Whereas what one felt looking at Katrine’s paintings was hope at the edge of a somber cliff, Yeji’s work—this Eastern girl—had a different quality.
Somehow it stirred forgotten passion in the viewer, a resolve-tinged hope like that.
“…Though this wasn’t a difficult choice, mind you.”
The final list of twenty.
That—no.
These works held more than ten slots, which was why the decision took so long.
Even works of quality that would normally be selected without question were rejected this year.
“She’s definitely an artist to expect things from.”
Marc stated it firmly, yet tilted his head doubtfully.
Chloe had made the comparison to Katrine, after all.
‘Is she really at that level?’
For now, he could only harbor both hope and skepticism.
He had only one work and one artist statement to judge Yeji by.
‘Though surely adults helped write this statement.’
Marc was certain from his long experience that they must have.
It was written far too well.
“You’ll see when you meet her soon enough.”
Yet despite Marc’s words, Chloe seemed strangely confident.
In art, discernment was a crucial element.
Had there been no Theo to recognize Van Gogh’s work and become his patron, he would never have become a master.
Moreover, by recognizing him, Theo himself became one of the most notable art dealers in history.
That was what discernment meant in art.
Chloe and Marc had recognized Katrine early.
The careers they had built were both founded on Katrine—that wouldn’t be an overstatement.
For Chloe to take that stance, knowing the power of discernment better than anyone…
‘Either Chloe’s aged and her judgment has dulled, or…. it’s genuine.’
It had to be one of the two.
Marc was, after all, the gallery director—a businessman of sorts.
He needed to view the situation more objectively.
‘In a way, it’s unfortunate.’
Marc looked at Yeji’s work once more and thought so.
The talent of this Eastern girl was solid.
A high school student with an adultness uncommon for her age and a brightness suited to it.
She would certainly become a fine artist.
But to be compared to Katrine.
Try as one might not to, one’s evaluation would inevitably become harsher.
The desperation she possessed, the blind passion for art.
Even that short, hollow life cut short early, as if confirming the cliché that genius dies young.
Regret and longing shrouded and idealized the memory.
The painter sleeping within it held such immense presence.
“July, if I recall…”
Seeing Chloe lost in thought while gazing at Yeji’s work, Marc also fell into contemplation.
Though he’d given more thought to Yeji’s work because Chloe had brought it up, the artist he was beginning to anticipate wasn’t her alone.
Even the works arrayed beside hers.
Marc sighed with complex feelings.
“To select a few award winners from here, we’ll need a more challenging theme than usual.”
At Marc’s words, Chloe looked away from the works toward him.
“A challenging theme, you say…?”
At Chloe’s question, Marc smiled mysteriously.
“That’s classified.”
At his cryptic remark, Chloe returned her gaze to the works with an odd expression.
She had a clear premonition that this would be quite a turbulent summer.
***
A home in Seoul, Korea,
“Well then, we’ll end today’s lesson here.”
Dahye and Yeji, seated across from their tutor, closed their problem books simultaneously.
First place in a large international art competition in France?
Of course it was joyful and wonderful, but making a fuss about it lasted only a day.
With midterm exams looming, there was no getting around it.
Watching the two students stretch with groans, the tutor added while organizing materials.
“Don’t push yourselves too hard, but you absolutely have to memorize all the vocabulary, yes?”
Though she had gained another student, it wasn’t a bad situation for the tutor.
Moreover, it was obvious that Dahye’s recently increased diligence stemmed from her classmate sitting beside her.
Healthy competition wasn’t something to shy away from.
“So what will you two do after tutoring ends?”
“We’re going to Yeji’s workshop to practice technique!”
At Dahye’s cheerful voice, the tutor nodded.
The friendship between the two seemed solid.
Since they appeared to be positively influencing each other, an adult’s only role was to cheer them on.
“Don’t overdo it, and prepare well. If you have any questions, text me anytime. I’ll help whenever I have a moment.”
After the tutor left, having made one final courtesy remark for Yeji’s benefit,
the two prepared to head to Yeji’s workshop.
Sungsu had told Yeji she could use the second floor however she liked.
Precisely because of that, Yeji had set a rule for herself: she would never bring other friends there for any purpose besides work.
Actually, Yeji, who was borrowing the space, was more cautious.
His works were all in the workshop—why would she bring just anyone inside?
She’d even mentioned to Sehee that she worried Sungsu was being too careless.
[Sehee: My uncle’s always like that. But since it’s you, wouldn’t it be fine?]
Like uncle, like niece.
Sehee had such a carefree nature that she seemed unconcerned.
“My parents go around buying works because of the hospital sometimes, and there really are a lot of artists like that.”
On the bus to the workshop, Dahye added to what Yeji had said.
Apparently, even people who seemed brilliant and particular often had some screw loose?
Especially artists ignorant of how the world worked—those were surprisingly common.
“You’ll be busy even this summer. You have to collaborate with the house owner on works, go to France…”
How many tasks were there altogether?
Dahye shook her head, saying it was dreadful, and Yeji just shrugged.
“I’ll think about that when the time comes. And your summer break schedule is busier than mine, anyway, isn’t it?”
Rather, Yeji found Dahye’s summer—spent only going to academies preparing for senior year—more daunting.
Having many works to create was actually something Yeji felt grateful and happy about.
“And anyway, I need to finish the commissions first.”
Works awaiting her touch, themes waiting, opportunities waiting.
With so much ahead, Yeji pressed on with her daily life as calmly as possible.
After all, they weren’t things she could paint immediately.
So Yeji resolved to tackle them one by one, step by step.
The workshop she arrived at was now filled with the various canvases she had prepared.
Just as Jimin had said, whatever she looked for was easy to find, well-organized.
From among the blank canvases arranged in rows, Yeji unhesitantly found and drew out one.
It was a rather large square canvas, easily a meter on each side.

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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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