Van Gogh Reborn! Chapter 22

Novel: Van Gogh Reborn! Author: Woojin Updated:
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As grandpa said, we arrived in Amsterdam in less than a day.

It's good that people don't die when they fly in the sky and go sowhere.

Although I was srized by the view from the sky.

Like Theo, and Lautrec, if people from the 19th century had had the sa experience, they would have been trembling about dying or would have refused to get on an airplane in the first place.

"Hallo. Hallo kleintje" (Hello. Hello little one.]

"Let see....how do you say hello in Dutch?"

While Grandpa was looking for greetings in Dutch on his smartphone, the man looked at and smiled.

"Hallo. Hallo."

Grandpa said awkwardly in Dutch.

"Waarom ben je naar Nederland gekon?"

(What made you visit Holland ?)

"What? Well. Can't you speak English? French."

I went in front.

“Ik kwam voor een bezoek aan het Van Gogh Museum” (I ca to visit the Van Gogh Museum.]

The man opened his eyes wide seeing speak in Dutch.

"Oh oh. Het wordt een geweldige ervaring. Als je naar het Van Gogh Museum gaat, zorg dan dat je zonnebloen ziet. Als mijn hoofd ingewikkeld wordt, vind ik daar troost."

(Oh oh. It will be a great experience. If you go to the Van Gogh Museum, be sure to see sunflowers. When my head gets complicated, I find comfort there.]

“echt?" (really?]

"Er zijn veel grote schilders, maar het enige schilderij dat troostte was Van Gogh. De enige plek waar je gemoedsrust kunt kopen voor 19 euro. Oh, je bent jong, dus 10 euro zou genoeg zijn."

(There are many great painters, but the only painting that comforted was Van Gogh's. The only place where you can buy peace of mind for 19 euros. Oh, you're young, so 10 euros would be enough.)

I can't adapt.

I'm happy and thankful that people like my drawings so much, but it's also felt awkward.

"Het lijkt erop dat uw kleinzoon heel goed Nederlands kent? Maar zijn accent doet denken alsof ik tegen mijn

overleden grootvader praat. Hahaha!"

(Looks like your grandson is very familiar with Dutch? But his accent makes think like I'm talking to my dead grandfather. Hahaha!)

"Hun, what did this person say?"

"He said..

•.Am I your grandson...."

"Hahaha! That's right. He's my grandson."

"Hahahah!"

They laughed looking at each other even when they didn't understand what the each other was talking about.

I was able to pass only after the chatty man stamped a

small notebook for .

"Ugh. Little Hun, without you, I would have been stranded."

When Grandpa put his smartphone in his pocket, he shook his head.

"I think Grandpa should be wearing this necklace."

Grandpa smiled when I showed the embarrassing necklace.

We took a taxi from the airport straight to the hotel.

"Dank u."

As we got out of the taxi, the huge golden building ca

into view.

It rises so much that I can't see it's top even after lifting

my head.

It is so luxurious that it is difficult for even so nobles to

stay.

"By the way, why is it dayti?"

It took 11 hours to arrive, so it should be evening, but I

don't know why.

"It's kind of weird."

"what?"

"Why is it still noon?"

"Huh. It's because of the ti difference. There is probably a 7 hour ti difference between Seoul and

Amsterdam."

........ how?"

Wasn't ti constant?

"The day and the night are decided by the presence or

absence of the sun, right? Because the earth is round

and it turns, when you look at the sun in the morning, it

is night on the other side of the earth."

Okay. I wonder what would be impossible with people flying in the sky.

There are too many amazing things, so I don't want to

cling on to the incomprehensible.

As I lay down on the bed to sleep, Grandpa asked with a

hollow smile.

"If you sleep now, what are you going to do at night?"

That's right.

It's better to wash my face with cold water to calm

myself down.

"Let's rest today and go to the Van Gogh Museum tomorrow."

"Can't we go now?"

"now?"

I'm sleepy, but I want to check it out as soon as possible.

I really want to know if I am really loved as my grandpa,

Aunt Mirae, and the chatty man at the airport said, and how am I being evaluated now?

I wonder if there was anyone who recognized my

struggles.

"You'll be able to watch the show quietly tomorrow, so

let's be patient."

As I nodded

my head at grandpa's words, I lay down on

the bed for a mont.

I tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids beca heavier

and heavier.

Thus my eyes got shut by itself.

"Sleep

a little, Grandpa will wake you up."

After saying those words Grandpa kissed on my

forehead.

next day.

Early in the morning, we took the tram to the Van Gogh

Museum.

It is like a train, but it is a strange ans of transportation that runs quietly without emitting steam.

"There it is."

When I looked in the direction Grandpa was pointing,

there were three big buildings.

'It really exists. My museum'

On one side of the building, the words "Van Gogh

Museum" hang across the door.

I followed grandpa to a sphere-shaped building with a

glass exterior, and there I saw a fence with a monitor.

"What is this?"

"It's a place to stand in line."

There's no one here, even though there's a place for

people to be queuing.

We headed inside.

A man with familiar looks, white skin and blonde hair,

greeted us warmly.

"Nice to et you, Sir Ko sooyeol. My na is Kevin from the Van Gogh Museum."

He was fluent in English and was polite.

'It's wonderful. I didn't know Grandpa was knighted.'

"nice to et you."

Grandpa smiled and shook hands with him.

"This is..."

The man nad Kevin saw and then looked at grandpa, who nodded his head.

"Hello, I'm Ko Hun."

When I said hello, he said sothing that I didn't expect.

"I saw [sunflower]. I was surprised by the use of colors reminiscent of Van Gogh."

"Did

you see [sunflower]?"

"It beca known when Henry Marceau bought it. In

Europe, [Sunflower] is the most talked about work this year."

Although it was sold for a large amount of money, the most talked-about word this year in Europe is probably

the word that made feel good.

"Then, shall we go see it?"

I went inside the building under his guidance.

There are several places that look like shops.

They hung my pictures on postcards and painted them

on clothes, but no one really was there.

I wondered if this spacious building was really necessary,

so I watched with a brisk mind, then Kevin opened his

mouth.

"You can browse the souvenir shop after viewing. When

it's ti to open, now let's take a look inside."

We went up the moving stairs called the escalator.

I could see my self-portrait.

I felt a little embarrassed by the look of my face that fills

one side of the wall.

It seems that my picture was pulled out using a printer

and pasted on the wallpaper.

When I was looking at my picture, Kevin opened his

mouth.

"Intense colors, rough and delicate brush strokes are Vincent van Gogh's most distinct personalities."

I slowly made my way into the exhibition hall while

listening to his words.

"It's a little different from the image of a madman and

wild, isn't it?"

I guess I'm still known as a madman.

"But those squishy mouths and intense eyes also look

sad. He might have wanted to portray himself overcoming or enduring sothing dangerously. He was

an honest painter to himself."

As I entered the exhibition hall while listening to Kevin's

explanation, there were actually 13 paintings I had

drawn on display.

The paintings on the walls are all fakes, but the self-

portraits and portraits in the glass coffin were the ones I

drew.

"Why is the one hanging on the wall a fake?"

When I asked Kevin, he grinned.

"Would you like to know?"

Of course it's my picture, I would like to know.

"It is true that we keep it, but as an art museum, it is

very difficult. We have such a great painting, but we can't put it out recklessly."

"why?"

"If a painting is damaged or stolen after hanging it, it is

a huge blow to the art museum as well as to humanity

as a whole."

"Is it that important?"

Thank you for appreciating my paintings, but I think you

are overestimating them.

"A Van Gogh painting costs tens of millions of euros.

So of them cost over 100 million euros."

[Sunflower] was sold to Henri Marceau for 2 million

euros.

Aunt Mirae said that I don't have to worry about money

for the rest of my life just for that, but if it is hundreds of millions of euros.

Grandpa told the sa story, but I just can't believe it.

"It may be inappropriate to say the value of a painting in

terms of money, but I think it is the most objective number that shows how much a loved artist he is."

"Anyway, that's why we exhibit these elaborately made

replicas, and take turns showing so of the real ones.

It's a managent level decision."

As I nodded my head and looked at the work, Kevin brought up another story.

"Do you know? So of the paintings known as Van Gogh's self-portraits are not Van Gogh."

I looked back to see what he ant.

"This is because it is difficult to clearly tell whether the

painting was of the artist himself or that of his brother Theodore. Even though they were brothers, it is said that the two were particularly very similar."

What similar....

Theo was smarter, better, and made more money than

.

Although I heard bad stories for a while, he was able to

gain the trust of those around him and succeeded as a

videographer, so he was superior to in every way.

His character is also better than mine.

"This is Theo, and that is Theo."

"Hahaha. You are very sure."

Grandpa smiled and patted my head.

He don't seem to believe what I said.

"The fact that Van Gogh always portrayed himself

differently was also a factor in not knowing whether it

was his brother or himself. For example, in this self-

portrait he sent to his mother, he trimd his beard and painted his eyes intensely. Do you know why.?"

"He didn't want his mother to worry seeing him look

unwell,"

"Right. You know it very well."

The courteous Kevin nodded his head and continued the explanation again.

"But Van Gogh wasn't the kind of person who glorified

himself. Here, looking at this picture, a sign of distress

is evident. The reason why all his self-portraits give

different impressions is because they project the inside

of him, not the outside of himself. That's what Vincent

van Gogh is unique about."

Even in the Renaissance period, efforts were made to

draw

objects

accurately.

During Louis XIV's regi of France, it went in the wrong direction, and only drawing an ideal picture beca the correct answer.

Kevin praised by pointing it out, but in fact, many

painters at the ti struggled like to break away

from the traditional order.

It was just that their thods were different.

"It wasn't just Van Gogh."

Kevin looked at with puzzled eyes.

"Manet, Monet, Renoir, Paul Gauguin, Lautrec, and many

others who were painting at the ti struggled in their

⚫wn way."

They were literally struggling at that ti.

It was a ti when people who could not live without themselves struggled to survive despite being

expressing

oppressed by the existing order.

I am just one of those people who lived in that era.

I am a loser who failed in trying to put on the canvas.

Kevin smiled brightly.

"Right. Manet, Monet, Renoir, Gauguin, Lautrec. There

were a lot of really good painters in those days. They all

made

of art."

great

achievents that goes down in the history

When the nas of the painters who had been ridiculed

countless tis by critics were ntioned in Kevin's

mouth, an unknown joy rose in my heart.

Now, they have been recognized enough to be recorded in art history.

I'm really happy for everyone.

Could there be anything more enjoyable than this?

"But to , Van Gogh is more special."

When I turned my head, Kevin said, looking at my self-

portrait.

"Though 137 years have passed since Van Gogh's death, many painters are still fighting with reality.

Sotis they get frustrated and when think of giving

up art, the person that cos to their mind and stops

them is Vincent Van Gogh. Like here."

He turned his head and t my gaze.

"Even if you are ridiculed as a maniac or abandoned by

their own family for pursuing art. They take courage

from him, who didn't give up and fought to the end even when he was on his deathbed."

Kevin's voice didn't waver.

The eyes that were looking at were full of admiration.

"Vincent

van Gogh is the person who gave us the

courage to endure those difficult tis with the belief

that, no matter how dark the path we go now is, one

day the Sun will definitely rise and at that ti people

who are looking down on us will look at us like a

sunflower looking at the

Sun."

"For the past 137 years, Vincent Van Gogh has been

the undisputed HERO in the hearts of every artists

around the world."

I was called a madman, maniac, idiot painter.....but this

was the first ti soone has called ............ a HERO.

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