SCT-Novel Chapter 322:
Chapter 322:
Chapter 322:
322
The Final Showdown (27)
On the second day of the Venice Biennale, I visited the Bulhandang exhibition hall.
I hoped there would be fewer people than yesterday, but it seemed everyone had the same idea.
The line stretched all the way to the street.
The nearby Spanish and Swiss halls looked less crowded, at least they didn’t have to wait outside the building.
“This is a problem.”
Bang Taeho tilted his head.
Grandpa, Ma Eunchan, and I could enter as participants, but Si Hyun, Bida, and Blanche were just visitors.
I couldn’t leave them behind and go in.
But it was also awkward to bring my friends along when the people who came all the way to Venice were waiting in line.
“Why don’t we come back later? Let’s look around other places first.”
“Yeah. That sounds better than waiting here. What do you think, Mr. Fabre?”
Grandpa seemed to agree and asked Blanche’s parents for their opinion.
“Here, spray this.”
“What is it?”
“Mosquito repellent. There are a lot of mosquitoes in Venice.”
Si Hyun, Bida, and Blanche didn’t seem to mind.
Blanche kindly sprayed mosquito repellent on me and the kids.
“But don’t you like mosquitoes, sis? They’re insects too.”
“I hate them.”
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The petals were so thick and fluffy.
I couldn’t take my eyes off them.
Baek Seolgi was standing in front of with the other mesmerized people, just like them.
The single peony flower that filled the canvas seemed to emit a fragrance, so fresh and lovely.
Maybe it was the seductive color that intoxicated me.
Even when I closed my eyes, I could still smell it and feel the peony blooming in my chest.
The peony was so shy that it gathered its delicate leaves together.
When I opened my eyes again, it was boasting a beauty that nothing in the world could match, and Yuraim, who was with me, exclaimed.
“That’s some power.”
Baek Seolgi smiled faintly at the honest admiration.
It felt like I was drawn into the painting, filling the 100F (162.2cm x 130.3cm) canvas.
Baek Seolgi and Yuraim felt like they understood why Jang Mi-rae was so loved.
She painted only one flower on such a large canvas, but the density of the painting didn’t crumble at all.
Rather, it had a suction power that made it seem like the flower was right in front of me.
“I was really surprised. It smelled like it too.”
“You too?”
Baek Seolgi was startled by Yuraim’s words.
I thought it was an illusion because the painting was so beautiful and intense, but it was unbelievable that my friend who saw it with me felt the same.
They turned their heads.
Jang Mi-rae was smiling at Ma Eunchan’s hanging next to her.
I knew she was amazing, but she bewitched people with just one dot of a painting, and I saw her in a new light.
“Senior.”
As Baek Seolgi and Yuraim approached, Jang Mi-rae pointed at and smiled.
“Look at this. It’s so cute.”
Ma Eunchan’s was a painting of a rooster and a magpie, representing France and Korea respectively.
The rooster and the magpie were staring at each other with their beaks touching, as if their eyes were about to meet. There was a heart-shaped gap between their necks, which were concave.
Baek Seolgi and Yuraim also chuckled.
“Caw-caw?”
“Isn’t that a crying sound?”
It seemed like he expressed the sound of crying with the sound of the words, just like c**k-a-doodle-doo.
“Do magpies cry caw-caw?”
She heard that Henri designed it, but she wondered why he made it so inefficient.
“There it is.”
Maeun Chan found his work.
She also wanted to check how the painting was displayed.
She looked back, but it was hard to see right away because it was hung high above the entrance.
She had to go to the opposite side of the 1st floor or look down from the 2nd floor. It seemed like she could see it from the middle of the basement.
She couldn’t help but move her feet and slowly admire the works, and she found Jang Mi-rae’s .
Her peony series was always beautiful, and she forgot to go down to the basement for a moment and stared blankly.
She came to her senses and moved her gaze, and she found a cute picture.
It was Maeun Chan’s .
“Caw Caw?”
“You call it caw caw. Magpies make a caw caw sound.”
Thankfully, the artist explained it himself.
They looked like they were about to fight, staring at each other with their heads together, but the space between the two birds was empty in the shape of a heart, and she couldn’t help but laugh.
“It’s like a cartoon.”
Cha Si Hyun’s comment seemed to please him.
Maeun Chan smiled.
She went down the stairs and looked up, and was hanging high.
It was big enough to see well, but it felt strangely brighter.
“Uh...”
I didn’t notice it when I saw it from the first floor, but there are wooden pillars and roots drawn on the basement wall.
“Hoon-ah.”
When Bang Tae-ho called me, I turned my head and saw a window shaped like a maple leaf, no, on the spot he pointed at.
The sunset that came down obliquely through the window on the second floor wall illuminated , providing natural lighting.
I was speechless with surprise.
“Mr. Marceau worked on it for six months.”
“What?”
I couldn’t believe what I heard and asked again.
“It’s not easy to calculate the direction and angle of the sunset. The altitude changes depending on the season.”
Bang Tae-ho added that Henri had mobilized several meteorologists to make the window.
“Pierre Malo said that when he commissioned the frame. He said he couldn’t make a better frame than this exhibition hall no matter what kind of frame he made.”
This fool.
I was worried that his work wouldn’t come out well because he was stuck in Venice for months.
I never thought he would prepare something like this.
“And there.”
As my throat became heavy and I couldn’t say anything, Bang Tae-ho pointed at the tree picture.
“There are branches and maple leaves drawn on the second floor where the maple leaves fall.”
I nodded without a voice and Bang Tae-ho smiled brightly.
“Of course, by Mr. Marceau.”
I swallowed and went up the stairs.
When I reached the second floor, I could see the works of French artists and the walls and ceilings filled with maple leaves.
And.
On one wall where nothing was hung, Henri Marso’s signature was written.
Henry Marceau
“Hoon-ah.”
It was Michel’s voice.
“Michel.”
“This is.”
Before I could share my joy of seeing him after a long time, I asked him the intention of signing on the wall.
Michel smiled brightly.
“This exhibition hall is Henri’s entry.”
I hope this translation is helpful for you. However, I suggest you check it for accuracy and fluency, as online translation tools may not always produce perfect results.