The Versatile Master Artist

Chapter 56: Chapter 40: One-star Painter (Part 2)

In this aspect, Koizumi Katsuko is not as experienced in life as Koshiba Kentaro.

”Shengzi, don’t just think about painting. Take Gang Chang and Senior Xiaosong out tonight, you young people can go rowing on the Yangon River. It seems there will be a fireworks display, it’ll be a nice change of fresh air?”

Mrs. Sakai lightly scraped her glass with her finger, frowning as she made the suggestion.

”Just let Gang Chang go.”

Koizumi Katsuko continued to keep her head down.

”Shengzi?” Mrs. Sakai’s tone turned slightly stern.

Koshiba Tarou wasn’t very angry though.

Koizumi Katsuko’s personality was just what his father liked, as long as she wasn’t distracted by another man like Gu Weijing, he wasn’t the jealous type.

His father, Koshiba Kentaro, thought that women were a man’s badge of honor.

A girl who can immerse herself wholeheartedly in the art world in this era is a great credit to her family’s name.

Being unassuming and simple is the demeanor an artist’s daughter-in-law should possess.

Since Shengzi liked art, Xiaosong had his other trump cards.

An artistic girl’s heart has its own ways of opening up.

He left the restaurant under the pretense of going to the bathroom, opened the car’s trunk, and pulled out a bouquet of roses and a sketch.

It was a sketch he drew of Koizumi Katsuko.

In the sketch, Koizumi Katsuko wears the traditional costume she wore when he first met her at New Year’s, with a slender, graceful figure that’s both sexy and pure.

Although Koshiba Tarou was already a well-known young painter, sketching was not his forte.

His painting style, influenced by his father, tended towards vibrant colors to express emotions, particularly using large, mysterious color blocks in oil paintings.

The colorful patches are always more infectious to the audience than cold, rigid lines.

It was with this skill that he painted ”Sunrise Osaka,” which won the amateur group prize at the Yokohama Art Triennial.

Placing emphasis on color over lines, this surely had something to do with his lack of diligence.

Sketching demands accuracy, it’s hard to take shortcuts or find another way, you can only rely on increased practice.

”Ölgemälde (Oil Painting)” is a major Austrian art magazine.

Like the Billboard charts for pop singers, ”Oil Painting” is a benchmark for evaluating young artists, covering multiple sections like the art market, viewpoints, styles, and buyer’s guides.

It rates a painter’s work from a collection perspective in star ratings.

The lowest is One Star, worth watching.

The highest is Seven Stars, a masterpiece.

The last under-thirty East Asian artist to score above Four Stars was Elder Cao’s youngest apprentice, Tang Ning (four and a half stars).

The last to receive a Seven Star investment rating was Andy Warhol in 1967 during his critical condition after being shot; the rating was upgraded from six and a half stars to seven—whatever the cost, acquiring it would be profitable.

After the millennium, Warhol’s works frequently set historical records at auctions in US Dollars, undoubtedly proving the magazine’s foresight.

When Koshiba Tarou won the award at the art exhibition, the magazine’s chief writer had once harshly critiqued ”Sunrise Osaka” as too speculative.

Though having certain emotional appeal, it was just the wild ramblings of a madman.

In the buyer’s guide, Koshiba Tarou received a One Star (worth watching) rating.

However, Koshiba Tarou didn’t care at all.

To feature in such a renowned art magazine usually requires young professors from the various art academies and middle-generation painters over thirty, and they hardly receive ratings over Two Stars (cautious purchase). Those young oil painters who receive a Three Star recommendation (some potential for appreciation) generally sell their paintings for over 300,000 US Dollars.

Given his age, featuring in such a magazine, even being harshly criticized, was still due to his father being a great painter.

Choosing sketching, an area he wasn’t proficient in, Xiaosong had his little schemes.

He felt oil painting wasn’t as ambiguous as sketching, especially while tracing the curves of Koizumi Katsuko’s figure in his mind, Xiaosong could almost feel a tangible touch.

While painting, he replayed the scene from ”Titanic” where Jack sketches a nude Rose over and over in his mind, feeling a strong sense of immersion.

If Celine Dion had been beside singing ”My Heart Will Go On,” it would have been a completely Jack moment for him.

Some girls might not be interested in jewelry and gems, but spending time drawing a picture for you is a very romantic thought.

Many penniless students in the Art Academy might have won adorable and beautiful juniors over with just that trick.

Koizumi Katsuko wasn’t a naive and sheltered girl, and Xiaosong wasn’t a poor local boy from Yangon like Gu Weijing.

He was wealthy and talented, and he was willing to spend time with the girl.

Just a glance at the envious looks from the pretty dining ladies at Koizumi Katsuko was enough to tell they sincerely wished they had a boyfriend like Xiaosong.

They all wished they could swallow Koizumi Katsuko and take her place.

Even so, when Koshiba Tarou returned with the sketch and roses, the prettiest waitress still discreetly wrote her phone number on a napkin with lipstick and handed it to Xiaosong.

She implied she didn’t mind him having a girlfriend and that she was willing to do anything if he drew her such a picture.

”A painting of mine, huh.”

Given his demonstrated potential and the network exhibited by Xiaosong Gallery, most art critics were optimistic about the investment prospects of his works.

A signed painting by Xiaosong could easily sell for over 1,000 US Dollars, with even greater potential in the future, so dating such a pretty girl, it’s unclear who would benefit more.

He wouldn’t mind playing a dangerous emotional game with them when he had time, but for now.

He’d better focus on enclosing the beautiful butterfly Koizumi Katsuko in his jar.

”Shengzi, this is a gift I’ve prepared for you,” said Koshiba Tarou.

He handed the sketch and roses to Koizumi Katsuko.

”The drawing is really good. You’ve put thought into it. Ichiro, you weren’t this romantic back then.”

Mrs. Sakai was genuinely moved.

Many artists are stubborn souls immersing themselves in their own worlds, unwilling to come out, but a partner like Taichiro, who’s willing to put effort into pleasing their daughter and has a promising artistic future while also complementing Shengzi’s accomplishments is undoubtedly far superior to any other chaotic individual.

”Thank you.”

Koizumi Katsuko took the painting, her eyes fixed on the sketch.

She fell silent for several seconds, seemingly touched.

Just when Sakai Gangchang thought his sister had been truly moved by the other party.

Koizumi Katsuko suddenly handed the painting to her father.

”What should I do with it?”

Professor Yajima was a bit puzzled.

”I feel Senior Xiaosong drew at least three extra vertebrae, the muscles on the arms are deformed, the knuckles are disproportionate, especially the index finger, which according to the proportion is about one centimeter longer compared to other fingers.”

Koizumi Katsuko smiled apologetically at Xiaosong, but her tone still had a distinct aloofness, only willing to discuss art.

Koshiba Tarou looked awkward, while Mrs. Sakai shook her head helplessly.

The previously harmonious atmosphere at the table suddenly turned from suggestive and ambiguous into an academic discussion.

”For a painter of this age, painting like this is good enough. Shengzi, you know looking at a painting is different from painting one—it’s easier to spot flaws while viewing compared to painting flawlessly. Unless you’re a monster with complete knowledge of muscles, painters at this age can’t paint perfectly; Xiaosong can’t, you can’t, even I can’t at present.”

Professor Yajima sighed, rubbing his forehead.

”Actually, many times it’s enough to pursue overall aesthetic harmony. Completely anatomically precise like a photograph—I believe historically fewer than five artists fully understood the human body to this extent. Strictly speaking, those masterpieces all have various mistakes, even Master Ingres made quite a few similar errors.”

Professor Yajima watched his daughter, who was still frowning in thought, stopping himself from voicing the rest of his thoughts.

He believed that people utterly immersed in the world of painting might find it hard to break through after reaching a certain level.

Without life experience, there’s no artful life.

Van Gogh’s hardships in life, in a way, fostered his art.

Although it’s cruel, it is indeed the truth.

There’s no point in speaking of such matters, and the reason he brought his children to Yangon was actually hoping Koizumi Katsuko could have more experiences outside her world.

He was waiting,

Koizumi Katsuko needed a catalyst for her realization.