Van Gogh Reborn!

Chapter 176: Holy Spring (2)

Chapter 176 Holy Spring (2)

Arsene followed his employers wish and called Kohoon. The speaker inside the car rang with the outgoing sound.

-Marso?

His voice was bright, unlike what he had worried about.

Yumo wants you to come over for dinner.

-Really?

Yeah.

-Thats nice. But why all of a sudden?

If you dont want to, just say so.

-Grandpa, Sherry asked me to come over for dinner. Can I go?

-Of course you can. Im going to take a bath, so come in when youre done talking.

-Okay.

Kohoon finished talking with Goseuyul and put his mouth to the phone.

-Ill go.

Okay.

The conversation between the two ended.

Kohoon was about to hang up, thinking he had nothing else to say.

-See you later.

You.

Henri Marso hesitated for no reason.

Dont do anything youll regret later.

He couldnt bring himself to say any annoying words like, are you hurt, were you scared, etc.

So he said it in a roundabout way, but Kohoons voice suddenly became gloomy.

-Youre right.

Henri Marso was secretly surprised that the cheeky kid agreed so easily.

It was clear that yesterdays incident had left a big shock on him.

He thought he felt scared after he regained his reason, not knowing when adrenaline was secreted.

So why did you complicate things by stepping in?

Kohoon became depressed after listening to Beethovens 9th Symphony and being attacked by Martin Jansens memory.

-Yeah.

Henri Marso pulled his chin and shook his head.

This is not like him.

He wasnt the one who would crawl up to him whenever he said something.

He looked so miserable that he seemed more serious than expected.

Stop thinking about useless things. Thats how you grow up.

Arsene turned his head in surprise.

He would have turned the steering wheel sharply if it werent for the excellent performance of the cars responsive steering system.

Drive properly.

Im sorry.

Arsene broke out in a cold sweat.

He knew well that Henri Marso cared for Kohoon in a special way, but he never thought he would comfort him.

-Marso, be careful too. Dont kick the blanket later.

What are you talking about?

-You should have learned from this incident that even if you mean well, you can be misunderstood if you talk like a beggar.

Henri Marso couldnt understand what Kohoon was suddenly saying, because they had different things to say.

-You should have told people what the problem was from the beginning. Then there wouldnt have been anyone swayed by the protesters.

Shut up.

-And be careful.

What.

-You did that with Michelle in front of everyone yesterday. People with quick wits would have noticed.

Henri Marso recalled yesterdays incident.

He remembered how Michelle ran over and hugged him in surprise.

They had kept their personal relationship secret, and they treated each other strictly as business partners in front of the gallery staff and the mansion staff. It was a secret between the two of them and Kohoon.

That was vividly conveyed through the speaker inside the car.

Henri Marso and Arsene met eyes through the rearview mirror.

Arsene quickly avoided his gaze, and Henri Marso gritted his teeth.

There was no direct mention, but he looked like he had noticed.

Hang up.

A strange current flowed between Henri Marso and Arsene after the call.

Arsene couldnt help but be conscious of his employers fierce eyes.

Sir.

I dont know anything.

You better not.

Arsene looked at Henri Marso as if he was going to eat him alive, and then confessed the truth.

Actually.

Henri Marso twitched his eyebrows.

Most people in the mansion know.

What.

About you two.

What?

Every time you take a vacation once a month, Mr. Platini visits, so everyone thinks that

Henri Marso tapped his forehead.

And you saved the name like that.

He remembered changing Michelles phone number to Amourans name after a big fight with her.

Henri Marso closed his eyes.

He blamed himself for forgetting that he had entrusted his phone to Arsene because he was too lazy to carry it around.

And you added a heart too.

Shut up.

Henri Marso sighed deeply. He quickly sorted out his complicated thoughts and checked the most important thing with patience.

Yumo.

She doesnt seem to know. I think you two are hiding it because of Gado, so everyone decided to pretend not to know.

Henri Marso clenched and unclenched his fists, then opened his mouth softly.

Arsene.

Yes.

Forget it.

I will.

Arsene didnt hesitate at all, knowing that he meant to shut his mouth by any means if he didnt forget.

***

I visited Henri Marsos house with my grandfather.

Arsene guided me to the gym where he was punching a sandbag.

He seemed so angry that he was about to burst it.

Nice posture.

Do you want to try?

I used to do it when I was young. Keep your elbows closer.

They seemed to have a connection as people who exercise.

Marso hit the sandbag a few more times after getting advice from my grandfather. The sound was louder.

I was bored because I had no interest in boxing, so I was planning my schedule for tomorrow when Marso spoke to me.

Are you going tomorrow?

Yes.

He didnt seem to want to continue the conversation.

Do you like Klimt?

He wiped his mouth after drinking water and said.

No.

I remembered that he said he was okay when we talked on the phone before.

We had a lot of conversations about Gustav Klimts works, so I thought he liked them, but I was surprised that he didnt.

You said you were okay before.

The paintings are.

He liked the paintings but not the artist.

Its rare to see someone who can separate the work and the artist completely, and I wonder if thats even possible.

Every work is a self-portrait of the artist.

So you hate him?

Hes not someone you can talk about easily.

Henri Marso wiped his sweat with a towel and said.

As a person, he was a lowly ruffian, but as an artist, he was the most ideal man.

It was the first time that Henri Marso praised someone so much.

No, was it sarcasm?

Ideal?

Compared to Van Gogh.

I felt uneasy.

In what way?

He achieved everything he wanted, while Van Gogh didnt. He had everything that Van Gogh couldnt have.

My grandfather seemed curious about what Henri Marso thought of Gustav Klimt.

He folded his arms and listened quietly, but I didnt want to hear it.

Just like the Impressionists, the Secessionists also tried to break away from the existing power structure.

The Impressionists are Manet, Monet, Renoir, Degas, and so on.

They were all the ones I respected as my teachers, and I also rejected the teachings of the French Royal Academy of Art.

The Secessionists are those who refer to Gustav Klimt, the founder.

Klimt achieved perfect success with the public.

It was a great feat to not break against the established power that he confronted head-on.

If he had been able to completely separate himself economically from the wealthy who had made their fortune, he would have changed the course of history.

Unlike Van Gogh, who worked alone, he had many followers.

I dont know why there are so many people who poke at other peoples wounds today.

And unlike Van Gogh, who only differed, he had many lovers.

Aaah!

Whats wrong with you?

Stop it! Why do you keep bringing up Vincent when you talk about Klimt?

Because theyre similar.

Marso leaned on the cabinet.

He declared that he would no longer make art for the public, who loved him so much.

Why?

I dont know. Anyway, thats when Klimts golden age began. If he hadnt made that choice, his status would have been completely different now.

How is that similar to Vincent?

Pure self-expression. He made art that was neither for the existing power nor for the public, but only for himself.

I think I understand a little why he said I was similar to Klimt.

Kim Jiwoo introduced Gustav Klimt as an artist who had never existed before or after.

If he pursued expressing himself completely, he had no choice but to be like that.

There is only one existence like me in the world.

The process of how he became like that is interesting.

My grandfather intervened.

At first, he received orders to paint palaces or church murals. He copied them so well that even experts couldnt tell if Klimt painted them, as he learned at school.

My grandfather used the word copy, probably because the style of painting at that time was typical.

The artists individuality was excluded and the painting was only for the purpose, so the expression of copy or reproduction was not wrong.

He was only in his teens then. By the time he was 18, he was already widely recognized and made a lot of money.

That fast?

I thought he was not famous because I didnt know, but now I see that he was a successful painter from a young age.

My grandfather and Henri Marso stared at me.

Why?

Thats not what you should say.