Van Gogh Reborn!
“Vincent van Gogh?”
“Yes.”
“From Netherlands?”
“You know it well.”
Perhaps it was Theo’s son.
A highly successful painter was born in our Van Gogh family.
The name Vincent is so common, I don’t know who it is, but how great would it be if he was my nephew.
He has became so famous that even an art museum was built.
So it was like fulfilling the dream of mine and Theo.
I’m really proud of him.
“What kind of picture did he draw?”
“Hmm, he did a lot of portraits of sunflowers and wheat fields.… also his self-portraits.”
It’s definitely Theo’s son.
Sunflowers, wheat fields, and self-portraits are my main subjects.
If he didn’t know, Theo must have told him about me a lot, to commemorate me.
He seems to have painted several works over the years.
I wonder what kind of picture he would have drawn for his ugly uncle.
“Would you like to see it?”
I nodded and stood up.
I followed the instructions to wash my hands first.
We went up to the second floor, which I had never climbed before.
Eye-popping paintings are adorned in every wall.
There are works that I think was painted by Pablo Picasso, and there are paintings of the great teachers whom I admire.
Jean-François Millet’s [The End of the End].
“……”
weird.
“What….Hun?”
“Is this a fake?”
It does look similar at first glance, but it’s not Miele’s delicate touch.
“Hahaha. You got nice eyes too. Most of the pictures here are fakes. It was printed and painted over. The real thing is too expensive.”
Certainly, a painting by a painter as high as Pablo Picasso or Jean-François Millet deserves to be traded at a high price.
Millet’s paintings, which received a humiliating evaluation during his lifetime, are now sold at high prices and are loved by many.
How happy and fortunate.
“Come on, here it is.”
The composition and colouring are the same as mine.
Seeing that the brush touch and colour are slightly different, it looks like someone drew this too.
Grandfather told me this painting was by Vincent van Gogh, so it means my nephew did it.
I never thought that he would have copied my painting as they were.
“Did you see the picture..? It’s called Café Terrace at Night.”
“…….…”
“Well. Isn’t it beautiful? That dazzling yellow and blue night, the green in between. Van Gogh often did this kind of colour arrangement.”
it’s kinda of weird
It is a joy to commemorate and honour me, but to be able to succeed by imitating a painting of another artist.
It’s impossible.
“Life was a struggle for him. He lived fiercely in an environment that no one knew about, but eventually fell ill. Still, he left such a wonderful picture, isn’t it wonderful?”
Did my nephew Vincent also had a hard life like me?
“Some people say that he is a madman or a madman who cuts his ear cut, but no one can curse his paintings.”
I guess something is wrong.
“Did he cut off his ear?”
“Well. That’s what happened. Whether it’s true or not is debated, but does that matter?”
It happened for me when I had a brawl with Paul Gauguin.
I wonder if my nephew Vincent also went through the same thing as me.
“Was the person who painted this picture born in 1853?”
“Well. It was probably around that time.”
“Did he die in 1890?”
“Let’s see.”
Grandfather pulled out his smartphone and looked for something.
“Oh, yes. He was born on March 30, 1853 and died on July 29, 1890. How do you remember all these things?”
It’s the year I born and died, of course I know.
“Is there a Van Gogh Museum?”
“Why. Do you want to go?”
“Is there a museum dedicated to Vincent van Gogh, who died in 1890?”
“Yes it is…..…”
“why..?”
I can not understand.
I don’t know why my art museum was built.
A museum commemorating me, all I sold was the [Red Vineyard] and a few props.
It wouldn’t have happened unless Theo earned a lot of money and builded it up after I died.
“What’s wrong with it? Can a painter the size of Van Gogh not have a museum?”
“As the size of Van Gogh….?”
“Yes. Isn’t Vincent van Gogh the most loved painter in the world?”
I don’t know what this grandfather is talking about.
I thought this was reality, but now I am having doubts again that this might be the afterlife.
If it wasn’t for heaven, there wouldn’t be a perfect world like this.
Luxurious food, new art tools, a warm family and a healthy body.
Above all that I, Vincent van Gogh, was the most loved painter in the world.
This is too much
“Hmm. You look like you can’t believe it.”
“Yes. Vincent didn’t even sell his paintings properly.”
“Ha ha ha ha! okay. That’s right. He was not recognized while he was alive.”
It breaks my heart, but it’s true.
“Hmm. How should I explain it? okay. There is a work called The Portrait of Dr. Gachet.”
Yes. I once drew a picture for Dr. Gachet, who was my doctor.
As a token of my gratitude, I presented his intellectual side with a sad expression.
“The painting sold for $44 million in 1999. Are you feeling any better now?”
“What is a dollar?”
“Um. Do I have to say it in Euros?”
I don’t know what that means too.
He seems to be talking about monetary units, but dollars and euros are units I’m hearing for the first time.
“franc? Why Franc?”
I shut my mouth because it’s difficult to answer, so Grandpa laughs haphazardly.
“Little Hun… you’re asking embarrassingly difficult questions. I don’t know if anyone has calculated this, but let’s find it somewhere.”
Grandpa found something with his smartphone.
This little machine that comes up with anything seems to contain all the knowledge in the world.
“Oh, yes. Here it is. At the current exchange rate, 44 million dollars is 37.31 million euros, and it’s been a while since I’ve spoken French, so it’s hard to say numbers. Do you understand Korean numbers?”
“No. In francs?”
“Come on…Okay Let’s look…. When France changed its legal currency, 6.5 francs was converted to 1 euro. So, in francs, it would be around 244.41 million francs.”
“……”
That’s an unbelievable amount.
“Ah. No.”
Grandpa quickly changed his mind.
“They say the franc has also been reorganized. Yes, the old 100 francs were exchanged for the new currency, 1 franc. Since this was in 1960, it would be roughly 24.24 billion francs in 1960.”
One day, I kept a record of all the money I received to repay the money I borrowed from Theo.
The total amount Theo sent me for in 10 years was 17,000 francs.
Although I lived sparingly in a small room, at least it was necessary to buy canvas and paints.
It wasn’t enough
But……. the Portrait of Dr. Gachet sold for 24 billion francs.
I can not believe it.
“But in grandfather’s view, this calculation has many loopholes.”
“Right…Isn’t it?”
“Well. We did not assume any fluctuations in the value of the currency.”
I don’t know what that means.
“When prices rise, the value of money goes down.”
Unable to understand, I narrowed my eyebrows, and Grandpa laughed.
“Okay….. This story is too difficult for our Hun right now. Anyway, Hun… Not all of the information on the Internet is true like this stupid calculation. So, when studying, you have to look at multiple materials together. You just need to know that.”
I stood I like a statue.
“What Hun….what happened…?”
“I don’t know how much is 24 billion franc.…”
“haha…… you didn’t know so why did you ask me to tell you in francs?”
It’s a monetary unit that I can understand, but the amount is a problem.
“Simply put, since your favourite potato pizza is 28,000 won, you can eat 1,086,200 pieces with the portrait of Dr. Gachet. To calculate more accurately, you have to calculate the price of a pizza in 1999, when the painting was traded.”
With my painting.
I can buy and eat 1.86 million potato pizzas, the symbol of luxury and abundance.
It’s hard to believe, but looking at Grandpa’s expression, it doesn’t sound like a lie.
“…why……why such a price…?”
I can’t quite understand
“haha. Look at this guy. It’s normal to have a lot of questions at this age. But let’s study slowly. Now let’s go down and eat first.”
Suddenly I felt greedy.
I feel sorry for the dead child and I feel sorry for the grandfather.
If it was a dead child anyway, I thought that if there was no way to give this life back to him, I had no choice but to do it.
So, I decided to embrace this new life by making use of this opportunity that I can’t have again and try to draw again.
____________________
This world is full of incomprehensible things.
Except for this mother tongue.
I learned French, German, Latin, and English freely, but only this Hangul is not entering my mind.
It is probably the most difficult language to learn in the world other than Latin.
I was greatly deceived by the cute font shape.
However, I have to do it because of the condition that I have to get 80 points or higher for dictation to be taken to an art museum.
“Is Hun doing well in his studies?”
I was startled by my grandfather’s voice and raised my head.
So it’s already the promised time.
“Come on, I’ll give you ten questions, so take it and try it out.”
“Wait. little bit more.”
“no.”
As a university professor, he is strict when it comes to teaching.
As it was a promise, I had no choice but to take this position.
“The first question. Ko Hun.”
This is this child’s name, and now…….. my name.
“Second. Ko Sooyeol.”
Grandpa’s name
“The third problem. Ko Hae, Lee Soojin.”
“Why two?”
“You Little..… How do you think of your mother and father as separate?”
I can’t refute it because it’s true, but it’s a shame.
By the way, where are the parents of this child?
I didn’t ask because it seemed like he was intentionally avoiding the story, but I’m curious.
I wonder if there is something he can’t tell the child.
“Fourth question. Our address ’45 Itaewon-ro, Yongsan-gu, Seoul’.”
Too long.
“Fifth question. ‘I am ten years old’.”
I thought he was a little younger but it seems he was ten.
“Sixth question. ‘I like my grandfather the most in the world’.”
When I raised my head and looked, he coughed for nothing and avoided my gaze.
“what are you doing? write.”
“………. “
Art gallery……art gallery………. art gallery.
“Seventh question. ‘I love you, Grandpa’.”
“What are you doing!”
“What…! I’m giving dictation problems? Write it quickly!”
It is so difficult to satisfy a grandfather who loves his grandson so much.
I will listen for the sake of going to art gallery
I wonder what kind of paintings the painters of today paint.
okay.
To achieve that goal, this kind of suffering is nothing.
“Great.…You got everything correct. May be you wrote what you felt in your heart”
Grandpa laughed.
It’s humiliating.
“Come on, let’s get ready to go.”
Seeing my grandfather smiling contentedly at the answer sheet brings a sigh of relief.
Chapter 6: CH 6
“Yes.”
“From Netherlands?”
“You know it well.”
Perhaps it was Theo’s son.
A highly successful painter was born in our Van Gogh family.
The name Vincent is so common, I don’t know who it is, but how great would it be if he was my nephew.
He has became so famous that even an art museum was built.
So it was like fulfilling the dream of mine and Theo.
I’m really proud of him.
“What kind of picture did he draw?”
“Hmm, he did a lot of portraits of sunflowers and wheat fields.… also his self-portraits.”
It’s definitely Theo’s son.
Sunflowers, wheat fields, and self-portraits are my main subjects.
If he didn’t know, Theo must have told him about me a lot, to commemorate me.
He seems to have painted several works over the years.
I wonder what kind of picture he would have drawn for his ugly uncle.
“Would you like to see it?”
I nodded and stood up.
I followed the instructions to wash my hands first.
Eye-popping paintings are adorned in every wall.
There are works that I think was painted by Pablo Picasso, and there are paintings of the great teachers whom I admire.
Jean-François Millet’s [The End of the End].
“……”
weird.
“What….Hun?”
“Is this a fake?”
It does look similar at first glance, but it’s not Miele’s delicate touch.
“Hahaha. You got nice eyes too. Most of the pictures here are fakes. It was printed and painted over. The real thing is too expensive.”
Certainly, a painting by a painter as high as Pablo Picasso or Jean-François Millet deserves to be traded at a high price.
Millet’s paintings, which received a humiliating evaluation during his lifetime, are now sold at high prices and are loved by many.
How happy and fortunate.
“Come on, here it is.”
The composition and colouring are the same as mine.
Seeing that the brush touch and colour are slightly different, it looks like someone drew this too.
Grandfather told me this painting was by Vincent van Gogh, so it means my nephew did it.
I never thought that he would have copied my painting as they were.
“…….…”
“Well. Isn’t it beautiful? That dazzling yellow and blue night, the green in between. Van Gogh often did this kind of colour arrangement.”
it’s kinda of weird
It is a joy to commemorate and honour me, but to be able to succeed by imitating a painting of another artist.
It’s impossible.
“Life was a struggle for him. He lived fiercely in an environment that no one knew about, but eventually fell ill. Still, he left such a wonderful picture, isn’t it wonderful?”
Did my nephew Vincent also had a hard life like me?
“Some people say that he is a madman or a madman who cuts his ear cut, but no one can curse his paintings.”
I guess something is wrong.
“Did he cut off his ear?”
“Well. That’s what happened. Whether it’s true or not is debated, but does that matter?”
It happened for me when I had a brawl with Paul Gauguin.
I wonder if my nephew Vincent also went through the same thing as me.
“Was the person who painted this picture born in 1853?”
“Well. It was probably around that time.”
“Did he die in 1890?”
“Let’s see.”
Grandfather pulled out his smartphone and looked for something.
“Oh, yes. He was born on March 30, 1853 and died on July 29, 1890. How do you remember all these things?”
“Is there a Van Gogh Museum?”
“Why. Do you want to go?”
“Is there a museum dedicated to Vincent van Gogh, who died in 1890?”
“Yes it is…..…”
“why..?”
I can not understand.
I don’t know why my art museum was built.
A museum commemorating me, all I sold was the [Red Vineyard] and a few props.
It wouldn’t have happened unless Theo earned a lot of money and builded it up after I died.
“What’s wrong with it? Can a painter the size of Van Gogh not have a museum?”
“As the size of Van Gogh….?”
“Yes. Isn’t Vincent van Gogh the most loved painter in the world?”
I don’t know what this grandfather is talking about.
I thought this was reality, but now I am having doubts again that this might be the afterlife.
If it wasn’t for heaven, there wouldn’t be a perfect world like this.
Luxurious food, new art tools, a warm family and a healthy body.
Above all that I, Vincent van Gogh, was the most loved painter in the world.
This is too much
“Hmm. You look like you can’t believe it.”
“Ha ha ha ha! okay. That’s right. He was not recognized while he was alive.”
It breaks my heart, but it’s true.
“Hmm. How should I explain it? okay. There is a work called The Portrait of Dr. Gachet.”
Yes. I once drew a picture for Dr. Gachet, who was my doctor.
As a token of my gratitude, I presented his intellectual side with a sad expression.
“The painting sold for $44 million in 1999. Are you feeling any better now?”
“What is a dollar?”
“Um. Do I have to say it in Euros?”
I don’t know what that means too.
He seems to be talking about monetary units, but dollars and euros are units I’m hearing for the first time.
You are reading story Van Gogh Reborn! at novel35.com
“How much in francs?”“franc? Why Franc?”
I shut my mouth because it’s difficult to answer, so Grandpa laughs haphazardly.
“Little Hun… you’re asking embarrassingly difficult questions. I don’t know if anyone has calculated this, but let’s find it somewhere.”
Grandpa found something with his smartphone.
This little machine that comes up with anything seems to contain all the knowledge in the world.
“Oh, yes. Here it is. At the current exchange rate, 44 million dollars is 37.31 million euros, and it’s been a while since I’ve spoken French, so it’s hard to say numbers. Do you understand Korean numbers?”
“No. In francs?”
“……”
That’s an unbelievable amount.
“Ah. No.”
Grandpa quickly changed his mind.
“They say the franc has also been reorganized. Yes, the old 100 francs were exchanged for the new currency, 1 franc. Since this was in 1960, it would be roughly 24.24 billion francs in 1960.”
One day, I kept a record of all the money I received to repay the money I borrowed from Theo.
The total amount Theo sent me for in 10 years was 17,000 francs.
Although I lived sparingly in a small room, at least it was necessary to buy canvas and paints.
It wasn’t enough
But……. the Portrait of Dr. Gachet sold for 24 billion francs.
I can not believe it.
“But in grandfather’s view, this calculation has many loopholes.”
“Right…Isn’t it?”
“Well. We did not assume any fluctuations in the value of the currency.”
I don’t know what that means.
“When prices rise, the value of money goes down.”
Unable to understand, I narrowed my eyebrows, and Grandpa laughed.
“Okay….. This story is too difficult for our Hun right now. Anyway, Hun… Not all of the information on the Internet is true like this stupid calculation. So, when studying, you have to look at multiple materials together. You just need to know that.”
“What Hun….what happened…?”
“I don’t know how much is 24 billion franc.…”
“haha…… you didn’t know so why did you ask me to tell you in francs?”
It’s a monetary unit that I can understand, but the amount is a problem.
“Simply put, since your favourite potato pizza is 28,000 won, you can eat 1,086,200 pieces with the portrait of Dr. Gachet. To calculate more accurately, you have to calculate the price of a pizza in 1999, when the painting was traded.”
With my painting.
I can buy and eat 1.86 million potato pizzas, the symbol of luxury and abundance.
It’s hard to believe, but looking at Grandpa’s expression, it doesn’t sound like a lie.
“…why……why such a price…?”
I can’t quite understand
“haha. Look at this guy. It’s normal to have a lot of questions at this age. But let’s study slowly. Now let’s go down and eat first.”
Suddenly I felt greedy.
I feel sorry for the dead child and I feel sorry for the grandfather.
If it was a dead child anyway, I thought that if there was no way to give this life back to him, I had no choice but to do it.
So, I decided to embrace this new life by making use of this opportunity that I can’t have again and try to draw again.
____________________
This world is full of incomprehensible things.
Except for this mother tongue.
I learned French, German, Latin, and English freely, but only this Hangul is not entering my mind.
I was greatly deceived by the cute font shape.
However, I have to do it because of the condition that I have to get 80 points or higher for dictation to be taken to an art museum.
“Is Hun doing well in his studies?”
I was startled by my grandfather’s voice and raised my head.
So it’s already the promised time.
“Come on, I’ll give you ten questions, so take it and try it out.”
“Wait. little bit more.”
“no.”
As a university professor, he is strict when it comes to teaching.
As it was a promise, I had no choice but to take this position.
“The first question. Ko Hun.”
This is this child’s name, and now…….. my name.
“Second. Ko Sooyeol.”
Grandpa’s name
“The third problem. Ko Hae, Lee Soojin.”
“Why two?”
“You Little..… How do you think of your mother and father as separate?”
I can’t refute it because it’s true, but it’s a shame.
By the way, where are the parents of this child?
I wonder if there is something he can’t tell the child.
“Fourth question. Our address ’45 Itaewon-ro, Yongsan-gu, Seoul’.”
Too long.
“Fifth question. ‘I am ten years old’.”
I thought he was a little younger but it seems he was ten.
“Sixth question. ‘I like my grandfather the most in the world’.”
When I raised my head and looked, he coughed for nothing and avoided my gaze.
“what are you doing? write.”
“………. “
Art gallery……art gallery………. art gallery.
“Seventh question. ‘I love you, Grandpa’.”
“What are you doing!”
“What…! I’m giving dictation problems? Write it quickly!”
It is so difficult to satisfy a grandfather who loves his grandson so much.
I will listen for the sake of going to art gallery
I wonder what kind of paintings the painters of today paint.
okay.
To achieve that goal, this kind of suffering is nothing.
“Great.…You got everything correct. May be you wrote what you felt in your heart”
It’s humiliating.
“Come on, let’s get ready to go.”
Seeing my grandfather smiling contentedly at the answer sheet brings a sigh of relief.
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