Episode 72: Learning from the Past
When Song Gijeong first saw Kang Lim, he was eight years old.
A community center class that started for fun, hoping to make some money for drinks when the business wasn’t doing well.
Even going out once a week earned him a decent amount of money, so it was a nice job to get some fresh air.
Of course, he didn’t expect to meet a genius who might come once in a hundred years here.
Among adults learning oriental painting as a hobby, there was a boy who stood out.
Kang Lim’s acquisition speed was too fast, and his descriptive ability was far superior to others, making him extraordinary.
His paintings could make even the most listless person enthusiastic.
Gradually, Kang Lim became the unique and star presence of the art studio.
However, Song Gijeong just thought he was unique and didn’t hold Kang Lim in his heart.
A class replicating the works drawn by ancient masters.
Following the brushstrokes of the artisans was difficult, but if one had some talent, it wasn’t impossible.
Then one day.
A day when people were particularly noisy before the class started.
Song Gijeong saw Kang Lim’s true potential.
People were all whispering in front of Kang Lim’s painting.
“My goodness… why is the orchid wilting?”
“Where’s the third leaf? After drawing two leaves in the shape of a phoenix’s eye, shouldn’t the third leaf be added?”
“They say the leaves should vigorously cut through the screen to create a blank space, can this be called the beauty of blank space? This isn’t appropriate blank space; there’s too much of it…”
“But oddly enough, doesn’t it have a certain atmosphere?”
“Yes, that’s true.”
As soon as Song Gijeong came in, he parted the people and approached the painting.
Rough lines with only a few strokes remaining.
A composition balanced to the point of perfection.
A brush and ink that delicately controlled light and dark.
It was a painting that needed nothing added or taken away.
While everyone was painting orchids in full bloom by referring to old paintings,
Kang Lim painted wilted leaves.
It was evident that he had studied the great masters’ paintings and developed his own style.
Feeling the elegance and stillness the painting exuded…
Song Gijeong asked Kang Lim one question.
He always emphasized the importance of blank space, but no one had properly expressed it.
“What did you paint?”
“It’s not an orchid I painted, but the air so rotten that the orchid can’t breathe. There’s a stench flowing in the room.”
“…”
Kang Lim, sitting on a high chair, swinging his dangling legs, spoke.
His cynical expression, as if he wanted to die of boredom, remained unchanged.
Is that the face of a child?
“In oriental painting, blank space was never just an empty space. It was water, fog, and clouds. But the word ‘blank space’ erased them. People always thought it was a white space when it was always full. They only think about how to compose the picture well, how to divide the screen…
So, how scary is the word ‘blank space’, or language? It’s convenient to limit people’s thoughts this way. It’s no wonder that humans, who communicate through language, live with many errors.”
Song Gijeong was dumbfounded.
Is that something an elementary school student would say?
He intentionally let out a silent breath, closed his eyes deeply, and opened them again…
A sense of futility washed over him.
Why hadn’t he recognized this child until now?
It was just pathetic.
“It makes sense what Laozi and Zhuangzi said, ‘Defining the invisible world with a single word is meaningless.’ In fact, isn’t blank space a state where everything is filled? Being empty and filled at the same time, isn’t that the way?”
To speak of Laozi and Zhuangzi’s philosophy so clearly…
Kang Lim, already filled with philosophical thinking, was a talent suited for oriental painting.
Song Gijeong thought as he looked into Kang Lim’s pitch-black eyes.
Those unusually black pupils, they are the color of ink. The color of the universe that absorbs everything.
“Kang Lim… from now on, don’t throw away any of your drawings, keep them all, absolutely.”
“…Yes.”
That day, Song Gijeong completely fell in love.
Such talent, he had never seen or heard of before.
From then on, he imparted all his precious material science know-how to Kang Lim.
To master the right-handed calligraphy strokes, he trained left-handed Kang Lim to be ambidextrous.
The art studio Kang Lim attended was a place where hobbyists squeezed tube paints to paint oriental art…
Gradually, it transformed into a place where traditional pigments were taught.
A class that was worth 50,000 won now had a value of 5,000,000 won.
‘This kid will be the future of Korean painting. He will present the answer to modern oriental painting.’
But contrary to Song Gijeong’s aspirations, Kang Lim didn’t have a strong affection for oriental painting.
For him, oriental painting was just something with a lot to learn and that could satisfy his intellectual curiosity.
It was just one of many art genres.
“If you need anything, come to Song Gijeong’s calligraphy shop in Insadong. And practice what you’ve learned every day.”
When Kang Lim moved at the age of 11, he could no longer attend the class.
Though the old man was regretful, he was satisfied with keeping in touch occasionally since there was nothing more to teach.
But then…
This brat…
From the third year of high school, he lost contact and reappeared with a changed major.
“Grandpa, it’s been a while.”
Kang Lim ran up to Song Gijeong with a playful expression.
He wanted to give him a big hug out of joy, but Song Gijeong slyly avoided it.
Song Gijeong looked up at Kang Lim.
Now he’s so big that it seems like his bones would break if he did that.
What a cheeky brat…
“You rotten kid! You held a solo exhibition and didn’t even show your face, and now you come?”
Song Gijeong hit Kang Lim with the brush he was holding.
“Ugh, that’s why I don’t come.”
“I told you to major in oriental painting at Seoul National University or Hongik University, but you went to a university with no roots!”
“What do you mean no roots… It’s a good school…”
“How can Korea National University of Arts not have a Korean painting department! After raising you with great effort, you do Western art?”
“Oh come on, these days, boundaries between nations and genres in art have long been broken…”
“That’s a big problem!”
Seeing Song Gijeong with his sharp eyes and stubbornly bent nose, Kang Lim burst into laughter.
“What are you laughing at, you brat!”
“Ah, if there’s a problem, I’ll fix it when I become big. Modern art is fun too. There’s no limit to the use of materials, that’s what’s so attractive.”
“Tsk tsk tsk…”
“People who only complain about what’s wrong can’t change anything. You know that too, Grandpa. You have to win within the system to change the system.”
“Fine, your poop is thick!”
Song Jiun, who had been watching the two, intervened.
He looked at Kang Lim and tilted his head.
“You speak very complexly.”
“Uh, um… It’s like saying it’s more convincing for the Minister of Education to say the education system is wrong than for a student who got a grade 5 in the college entrance exam to say it. It’s important to get recognition from the existing art world first. If you want to break it all later, that is.”
“Oh, that’s very cool.”
“…No, I still have a long way to go to be like that.”
“Anyway, nice to meet you. I’m Song Gijeong’s grandson, Song Jiun. You must be the student my grandfather used to talk about, Kang Lim? He said you were a genius, and I can see it just by looking at how you check out the materials.”
Ah, he talked about me like that again.
Kang Lim smiled at Song Gijeong.
Then, with a red face, Song Gijeong shouted.
“Who says he’s my student! I’ve never had a student like him!”
Ignoring him, Kang Lim spoke to Song Jiun.
“I heard about you from Grandpa before too, that he had a grandson majoring in restoration art.”
“Haha. Yes, that’s me.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Me too.”
“Then, please wrap up that inkstone from earlier.”
“…”
Song Jiun, silent. The noisy Song Gijeong had also gone quiet at some point.
Kang Lim chuckled between the two.
Honestly, he had come to buy Grandpa’s stuff, so there was no need to make it awkward.
“I’ll pay the original price, don’t worry. How much is it?”
“400,000 won.”
“It’s not overpriced this time, right?”
“Yes…”
Kang Lim moved to the corner where the brushes were hanging.
Deer, wolf, raccoon, rabbit… Brushes made from a variety of animal hairs were hanging.
Since oriental painting brushes are mostly handmade, the price is negotiable.
And these are all Grandpa’s creations.
Kang Lim picked up a large brush.
Brushes come in various sizes and thicknesses, with the largest and thickest being for painting the Four Gentlemen or calligraphy.
He pinched the end of the brush with his thumb and forefinger and rubbed it.
It felt smooth without any ridges.
‘As expected, it won’t split while drawing. Grandpa’s skills haven’t gone anywhere.’
“Indeed! You have a discerning eye. That’s the highest quality sheep hair brush. It’s made from the hair of rams that grew in early January.”
“Oh, it’s sheep hair? Damn.”
Sheep hair brushes have a unique line quality but lack elasticity, making them difficult to handle.
Unless you keep practicing, it’s better not to buy them, and they’re expensive.
After touching and stroking several brushes on his palm,
He selected a large, medium, and small brush for detailed descriptions.
“I’ll just buy these. How much for all of them?”
“You picked mostly horsehair brushes. They have good elasticity. Adding them all up, it’s 580,000 won.”
“Okay, please wrap them with the inkstone from earlier. Can I also look at some paper?”
What a windfall. Smiles started to spread on the faces of the two Songs.
Today was a big catch.
Song Jiun quickly ran and pulled out the round rolled-up papers.
“Given the brushes you bought, it looks like you do ink painting, so traditional Korean paper would be best, right?”
“Yes, give me five sheets in size 120 and a bundle of Okdangji for practice, please.”
Oriental painting is broadly divided into ink painting, light color ink painting, and full color painting.
They are usually referred to as ink/color painting, but the types of paper, pigments, and brushes used are all different.
The difference is so significant that they are almost considered different majors, leading to factional battles among professors in the oriental painting department over whether to focus on ink or color.
It’s the same principle as in the Joseon Dynasty when scholars avoided color paintings, calling them light and weightless.
‘Although it’s less severe these days, there used to be a lot of people who would argue about which line to follow because ink and color were so oppositional.’
The reason Kang Lim didn’t apply to the oriental painting department was because of this.
Grandpa always said that students were dying in the professors’ fights over their positions.
Moreover, while advocating for modern oriental painting, there were rumors that if it was a bit too modern, they would foam at the mouth, saying it wasn’t oriental painting.
The influence of professors was so strong that if they didn’t consider it oriental painting, students couldn’t even hang their paintings at the graduation exhibition.
Even though it was already unpopular in the art market, the internal division caused the number of students to continue to decline…
Most university oriental painting departments are now on the verge of being merged into the western painting department.
They might actually disappear at this rate.
‘What on earth is modern Korean painting?’
Kang Lim suddenly became curious and pulled out the photo of Ryu Junhee’s painting he had just taken.
Although it was an oil painting, it was drawn with oriental brushstrokes.
“Grandpa, isn’t this painting really good? It’s modern yet oriental, and it looks amazing in real life.”
Song Gijeong rested his glasses on the tip of his nose and furrowed his brows.
As he examined the photo Kang Lim showed, his white eyebrows gradually knitted together.
“This isn’t Korean painting!”
“…”
“It’s just mimicking the surface! The spirit is what’s important, the spirit! It’s just an empty shell! Just by looking at it, I can tell it’s slick.”
“What do you mean by that? How can you see the spirit in a painting? Does it have to resemble old paintings?”
“That’s not it! You can tell just by looking! Can’t you differentiate between ink sold at a stationery store and properly ground ink?”
“…”
What on earth is modern oriental painting?
Thinking deeply, Kang Lim shook his head.
‘Oh well, what’s important now is to check the quality of the paper.’
The traditional Korean paper Kang Lim was buying is used for ink painting, while Okdangji is used for ink painting practice. The traditional paper is a bit thicker and tougher.
“Oh, it’s nice.”
Kang Lim touched the traditional Korean paper that Song Jiun had spread out.
The texture was fine without any clumps.
“Just give me 100 sheets of this.”
Since even the same product can vary each time it’s made, if you find good quality paper, you need to buy it in bulk.
“Goodness! This brat is cleaning out our house!”
“…Grandpa, your nostrils are flaring.”
“Ahem!”
Song Gijeong’s large nostrils flutter when he’s in a good mood.
After telling his grandpa that he would visit again soon, Kang Lim quickly returned to his studio.
With paper as long as Sun Wukong’s Ruyi Jingu Bang tucked under his arm and materials he had bought in both hands,
He really wanted to get a car.
“Why are you so late, you bought a lot.”
It was already late evening.
Ryu Junhee was still waiting in Kang Lim’s studio.
“What? Aren’t you going home, hyung?”
“It’s bothersome. And I want to watch you draw… isn’t it just one stroke with ink painting?”
“Well, for the most part, yes. Unless it’s a bird and flower painting or a portrait…”
“Oh, that sounds interesting. What are you going to draw?”
“Haha, you’ll see.”
“Oh, confidence.”
After placing the materials under the desk, Kang Lim took out a blanket from the plastic bag.
As the green blanket spread wide, Ryu Junhee spoke again.
“Why did you bring something that looks like a military blanket, are you trying to affirm your exemption?”
“…No. I spread this to keep the paper from sticking to the floor and tearing if it gets wet. You really don’t know anything about oriental painting, hyung.”
“Oh, I know.”
“…Yes.”
After spreading the paper and securing it with paperweights, Kang Lim slowly ground the ink.
As the transparent ink began to rise, the scent of ink spread through the studio.
A quiet space filled with silence.
As Kang Lim calmed his breath and picked up the brush, Ryu Junhee flinched.
His sharp jawline and tightly bunched muscles.
His eyes were completely different from when he was talking earlier.
Looks like he’s in for an interesting sight today.
