Van Gogh Reborn!

Chapter 251:

251

Playground (3)

Henri Matisse snorted and looked up at the hill.

The street, which had been somewhat bleak, looked bright thanks to the sunflowers that filled the walls and the road.

The sound of children laughing and running around was incessant, and the faces of the citizens gathered in the square were full of smiles.

Henri Matisse was captivated by an inexplicable feeling.

“…”

He was distant from things like joy, happiness, or laughter.

To Henri Matisse, art was war.

He finally bought all the billboards at the Paris station and made his name known, but that was not the end.

The critics ignored Henri Matisse, who only published self-portraits, and the media regarded him as a spoiled brat who inherited the immense wealth of the Matisse family.

Even the artists did not acknowledge him as an artist, saying that he had no novelty or philosophy.

He could have given up.

He could have succeeded greatly as a politician or a businessman if he wanted, but Henri Matisse refused to remain as the heir of the Matisse family.

He kept looking at himself, did not deceive himself, and protected himself even if the whole world did not acknowledge him.

Only after he painted about 600 self-portraits did some people start to notice him.

It was only four or five years ago that he was recognized as the last genius and hero of French painting.

He could have rested a bit since he reached the top.

But he did not stop.

He drove out the subversive forces that had eroded the French art world, confronted the cartel that dominated the British art auction market, and worked hard to enact laws for artists and students.

The reason he continued the hard fight was one.

He remembered the fans who supported him in the long battle.

People who willingly sought Henri Matisse even when they had no knowledge of art, were not famous, had no power, and were ridiculed by the critics and the media.

He wanted them to be able to find him in a better environment.

He hoped that the artists who were not recognized like him could muster a little courage.

A place full of children’s laughter was unfamiliar to the man who had climbed to the throne through repeated struggles.

“Matisse?”

Ko Hun called Henri Matisse.

He came to his senses and sat on the makeshift chair prepared by Arsen.

He crossed his legs and leaned back heavily.

“Go and play.”

It was a strange day.

[Henri Matisse visits Dali Square]

On Saturday, the 26th, the painter Henri Matisse visited Dali Square.

Dali Square is currently hosting a participatory art event where Parisians join together with the painter Ko Hun as the main axis.

Ko Hun said in an interview with a media outlet, “I hope everyone can enjoy it without being bound by race, country of origin, gender, or age.”

This was supported by Banksy, an artist who combines social criticism and welfare, and several artists participated, and today Henri Matisse, the representative artist of France, visited the site.

Henri Matisse drew his shoes near the start of the uphill road instead of sunflowers, and in the evening he set up a buffet for the children at Dali Square.

The Dali Square event is scheduled to end tomorrow.

The news that Henri Matisse visited the site became a big issue again.

Since he could only be accessed through public places, the media flocked to Dali Square to cover his personal life and opening project.

The Dali Square event, which had been somewhat quiet as Ko Hun avoided media interviews, was once again noticed by the joining of Banksy and Henri Matisse.

└He didn’t wear a bee suit and just draped it over his shoulder. That’s his last prideㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

└Why is it so sweet that he’s surrounded by kidsㅋㅋㅋㅋ

└Even though he’s annoyed, they’re still clinging to himㅋㅋㅋㅋ

└Kids like handsome and pretty people too.

└Who said that.

└You’re blocked.

└But what does the shoe mean?

└Does it mean he’s gone?

└Doesn’t it mean he’s going to walk up?

└It looks like he’s standing with his feet side by side.

└Maybe it means he’s watching?

└I think it means he’s watching something. He’s not with them, but he’s protecting them somehow.

└ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋHenri wouldn’t do that. It’s like he’s saying he’s descendedㅋㅋㅋㅋ

└ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

When art lovers were happy with the warm news.

I was having a heated debate with Henri Marso.

“I don’t like potatoes, I don’t like sunflowers, I don’t like playgrounds. What do you like, then?”

“M&G.”

“No way. How about Isaac?”

“Isaac?”

Henri Marso pondered for a moment. It was the least ridiculous name among the ones I suggested.

But it was a religious name, and it wouldn’t fit well in the French society as a name for an organization.

“I feel like having some toast.”

I turned my head at Bang Tae-ho’s remark.

“Toast?”

“No, nothing.”

Bang Tae-ho shook his head.

“It won’t work. You can’t use a name that’s hard to use in public places. Just go with M&G.”

“What about me?”

As Henri repeated the name Marceau&Goran, Blanche Fabre intervened.

“Yeah. Other people will join us too. Who would want to join with a name like that?”

“We only need you and me.”

I sighed. It seemed like there was no progress with Henri.

“But why are you worried?”

Fabre asked.

“We need to set up a corporation. To use it when we work together.”

“Not that. The name. You already decided.”

I tilted my head slightly at the news I heard for the first time.

“Half-Marceau-Fabre. I’m the president and you’re the vice president.”

“What are you talking about?”

Henri Marso frowned, but Fabre ignored him and continued.

“We agreed to work together for the Art Nouveau contest. To crush them.”

“What were you guys plotting? White hair, are you badmouthing me?”

“Don’t call me white hair. You have curly hair yourself.”

“What?”

“Stop fighting. And I introduced her to you before. Blanche Fabre. Why do you call her white hair when she has a name. We’re going to work together now.”

“I don’t want to work with you.”

“Me neither.”

I sighed.

“We have to set up a corporation before we sign a contract with the Bugrenelli shopping mall, so if you want to fight, settle on a name first and then do it.”

“Before that.”

Henri Marso cut me off.

“I’ll let Bang be the representative, but Platini will have full authority over the exhibition-related work.”

Bang Tae-ho and I blinked.

We had a corporation, but it didn’t make sense to entrust the work to an outsider.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think it makes sense for someone else to handle my work?”

“Michel is in charge of the Marceau Gallery.”

“He can handle it as a subcontractor.”

Bang Tae-ho, who was listening to the conversation, stepped in.

“There’s a possibility of trouble. If the corporation that Marceau belongs to gives work to the Marceau Gallery, it could be considered as unfair profit from internal transactions.”

Marceau narrowed his eyes.

He had overlooked that part because of his principle that no one but Michel Platini could touch his work.

Even if he didn’t intend to, he had to set an example, and he couldn’t leave room for misunderstanding as giving preferential treatment.

“You, and you. Come to my company.”

Henri Marso pointed at me and Bang Tae-ho.

“No, thanks.”

“That would be difficult.”

Henri Marso furrowed his brows.

“Then what do you want?”

I decided after thinking for a while.

“Let’s do it separately. We can sign a separate contract when we work together.”

“We said we’d do it together.”

“We can’t agree on anything, starting from the name. What can we do?”

I wondered how to calm Henri Marso down, and I realized that he was unusually quiet.

Meanwhile, Henri Marso, who had a change of mind after running in the square today, took my words seriously.

Our paths were clearly different.

Henri Marso, who had fought against dishonesty and hypocrisy and worked passionately on his work, didn’t want me to walk the same path as him.

They had settled all those matters in their own generation, and Go-hoon and the kids should just have fun like they did at the Dallida Square, laughing and chatting.

“Are you having fun?”

Henry Marceau asked Go-hoon with a glare.

“What do you mean?”

“Playing with the kids.”

“Of course.”

Henry Marceau thought twice, three times, then made up his mind.

“Fine.”

The thing with Damien Carter and Jay Jopling was just the beginning.

He didn’t want to expose his relationship with Go-hoon to the outside and increase the threat, when he didn’t know who he would have to face in the future.

He knew that the future that Go-hoon would unfold would be happy and sweet, so he didn’t want to burden a kid who was barely ten years old with such a thing.

He had too many scars.

He couldn’t join them in that place where the kids laughed and chatted, but he wanted to protect them. It was the same feeling.

“So, I wish you would join us, Marceau.”

Henry frowned at Go-hoon’s words.

“Don’t change your mind once you’ve decided. Being indecisive is not being thoughtful, it’s being stupid.”

“How can you say that?”

Go-hoon spoke up honestly.

“The kids like you, Marceau. I like you too. It doesn’t make sense not to do it because of a name or a law.”

Henry Marceau looked down at Go-hoon.

“Let’s do this. I’ll decide the name and you bring Michelle. Michelle can work for our company too. It’s not illegal to be in two corporations, right?”

“That’s right.”

Go-hoon answered the question with a cool reply from Bang Tae-ho.

“That’s not the problem.”

It wasn’t a matter of name or legal issue, but he decided that they couldn’t be together because they were on different paths.

“I don’t want to do it like you. If you want to play with the kids, go ahead. I’ll do it my way.”

“You don’t have to hang out with us if you don’t like it.”

Go-hoon grabbed him again.

“But you like it, don’t you?”

The boy was sure.

If Henry Marceau hated being with the kids at the Dallida Square, he wouldn’t have come or spent time there.

Because of his pride, his dignity.

Or for some unknown reason, he seemed to want to keep his distance.

Even though he was annoyed, he put on a bee costume and prepared a wonderful dinner for the kids. He secretly enjoyed that time, so Go-hoon couldn’t push him away.

Blanche Fabre looked back and forth at Go-hoon and Henry Marceau with a suspicious gaze.

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