"What did you say? A student?"
A man with a lean figure, slightly oversized in his suit, brown hair neatly parted, and donning gold-rimmed glasses, leaned against the window frame of a New York office, gazing at the refreshing cityscape outside with a surprised expression.
Sharon and Corigliano Professors were visiting him the day after their meeting with Professor Price. The room, adorned with ample, clear windows, was the CEO's office, centrally located within New York's Metropolitan Museum.
Sharon spoke calmly, "Sir, not just a student. This is the student who completed Isaac Albéniz's Asturias, a piece I myself couldn't finish."
Daniel Weiss adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and replied, "Please, don't address me as 'sir,' Professor. Just call me Daniel. Nevertheless, despite the prodigious talent, he's still a student. Can we entrust the music of historically significant masterpieces to him?"
Corigliano interjected, as if waiting to speak, "Yes, Daniel. Let's give him a chance. If the student can't find a way, we'll take responsibility again."
Daniel glanced intently at Corigliano before saying, "I'm curious about this student. Seeing both of you here simultaneously, there must be something remarkable about this student. But from the CEO's perspective, I'm concerned about our staff's resistance."
Daniel removed his hand from the window frame and stood before the two, saying, "Until now, our proud curators have tolerated outsourcing because of your reputation. If not for both of you, they would have tried to resolve this internally. Whether the outcome is good or bad, we've never outsourced."
Sharon nodded, "Of course, the curators at the renowned New York Metropolitan should hold that level of pride and dignity. It's natural for such resistance."
Daniel looked at Sharon and then Corigliano, alternating his gaze, before turning to the window again. After a moment of contemplation, Daniel faced them again, saying, "Alright. If these three, Sharon Isbin, John Corigliano, and Leontine Price, unanimously recommend this student, let's persuade our curators to give him a chance. But we might need to leverage your names for persuasion. Otherwise, it might be hard to convince them."
With a brightened face, Daniel raised his index finger, "However, we can't delay for too long. We're aware this is an issue that needs urgent resolution for us as well. One week. Even if we can't resolve it within a week, we need a direction. Assuming that direction is appropriate, we'll proceed with the next steps."
Daniel turned to Sharon, asking, "The student's name is Geon Kim, right? Is he Professor Isbin's student?"
Sharon nodded, and Daniel continued, "He mentioned he was a freshman, so he must be quite young. Considering the strong personalities of our senior male curators, we'll assign a more flexible and young female curator from our end."
Corigliano chuckled, "When young folks gather, scandals tend to brew. Geon might find it hard to concentrate. Haha."
Daniel smiled back, "Is that so? Then, as a token of playful retaliation to you both for this request, I'll assign the most beautiful curator to disrupt that student's focus. That way, you two will have to take charge again, haha."
Two days later, at 7 AM.
As the New York Metropolitan Museum opened at 10 AM, a tall woman with neatly tied red hair and dressed in a crisp white shirt and black women's suit was waiting under the still-deserted steps at the entrance. Despite being well-dressed and put together, she appeared slightly awkward, giving off a vibe of someone in her mid-twenties.
She neatly folded her hands and looked around before yawning tiredly, "Ugh, so sleepy. What am I doing up since dawn? Even if it's Juilliard School, trusting our work to a student... Lucas, who heard about it yesterday, must have been ready to storm out red-faced."
As she fidgeted, trying to ward off the cold, she caught sight of a man carrying a guitar running toward her in the distance. Swiftly fixing her appearance, she froze as she watched the approaching man.
Apologetically, he said, "Hi, I'm really sorry. I was practicing late into the night and overslept. I was so surprised when I woke up at six. I apologize for this first meeting."
Geon respectfully bowed but the woman stood frozen, looking at him with dazed eyes. Geon scratched his head and said, "Um... Are you Abigail Cheshire? Professor Sharon mentioned you earlier. I'm Geon Kim."
Abigail couldn't regain her composure. She'd never seen anyone quite like him, not in TV shows or movies. His angelic smile was contradicted by intense, almost vampiric eyes. His porcelain skin and crimson lips unwittingly invited one's touch.
Unaware of this, Geon thought Abigail was angry and fretted.
"Um, I'm really sorry. I'm terribly late, aren't I?"
Studying Geon from head to toe, Abigail fiddled with her hands, lost in thought.
"The white shoes are from Zibangshi, black pants and a cotton-blue shirt from Christian Dior, and the black coat is from Valmani. Oh my, the watch peeking from the coat sleeve is Patek Philippe! He looks like a prince, what do I do!"
Seeing Abigail lost in her own world, Geon lightly touched her arm.
"Hey, Abigail?"
Startled by Geon's touch, Abigail blushed, waving her hands frantically.
"Oh, no! I wasn't thinking anything strange! Uh, um? Uh, umm?"
Puzzled by Geon's curious gaze, Abigail, despite trying to remain composed, couldn't hide her trembling voice.
"S-Sorry. I, um, had a brief distraction... I'm Abigail Chaser. I'm the curator here at the museum."
Geon, finally acknowledging Abigail's introduction, apologized again.
"Nice to meet you. I'm sorry for making you wait outside in this cold weather."
Abigail gestured as if to dismiss any discomfort.
"Oh, no, I didn't wait long. Uh, do you... want to come in?"
Geon smiled and headed up the stairs, observing Abigail's following gaze and silently thinking.
'This fool! What a first impression! If she thinks I'm some whimsical guy, how will that be? Ugh...'
As Geon reached the door, Abigail, surprised, hurried to catch up.
"Um, Abigail? The door..."
Abigail, switching between the doorknob and Geon's face, apologized when she realized her mistake.
"Oh! S-Sorry! Let me open it!"
Struggling with the lock, Abigail finally managed to open the door after several failed attempts. Geon found her endearing but refrained from commenting on her charm given the situation. He smiled at Abigail once and entered.
Feeling embarrassed, Abigail, proud of her job as a curator at a top-notch museum and a musical prodigy at Juilliard, felt her mind go blank upon seeing Geon.
'Unbelievable! Is that even a person? Why isn't he an actor or a model, why music?'
Though Geon disappeared inside, Abigail hesitated to follow.
'I've never seen anyone like him, even in my dreams! Ugh, did I just meet my ideal type?'
As Geon beckoned from inside, Abigail, startled, rushed in, clutching her head in frustration.
In the dim interior, Geon marveled as Abigail turned on the lights.
"Wow! It looks even more magnificent with the antique interior!"
In the grand lobby of the New York Metropolitan Museum, Geon's admiration echoed, leaving Abigail anxious.
'Oh no, this antique setting makes him look even cooler!'
Abigail struggled to regain her composure while Geon explored. Luckily, his wandering allowed her time to collect herself. When Geon was ready to move, Abigail spoke calmly.
"Mr. Geon, um, if you follow this corridor and open the brown door on your right, it leads to the 19th-century painting gallery."
Geon nodded and smiled before walking in the direction Abigail indicated. As they turned into the corridor marked 'To the 19th-century painting gallery,' vibrant paintings adorned the ornate walls.
Geon's eyes widened at the first painting he encountered.
Passing by, he was astonished by the four paintings, reaching tentatively towards one as if the colors were real.
'Colors in a painting?'
When Geon Kim opened the doors to the 19th-century painting gallery, he was greeted by numerous masterpieces emanating a myriad of colors, exhibited endlessly throughout the space.
Geon strolled leisurely, pausing longer before the paintings that caught his eye. Abigail accompanied him, explaining each painting that seemed to pique Geon's interest.
"This artwork is called 'Boating.' It's by Manet. To capture the nuances of light on the body, the figures are painted generously. Isn't the depiction of the sea in the background quite unique? Manet drew inspiration from Japanese prints for this piece."
As Abigail began her explanations, she spoke with a knowing air. Geon, listening attentively, examined several paintings while Abigail guided him. Eventually, Geon stopped in front of Van Gogh's self-portrait.
"A self-portrait, isn't it? But wait, the one I know has a bandaged ear, while this one wears a hat?"
Abigail nodded, pointing at the painting. "Yes, that's the most famous one you're referring to. Van Gogh, in his poverty, couldn't afford models to paint, so he bought a good mirror and created around 20 self-portraits. This one is named 'Self-Portrait with a Straw Hat.'"
Geon nodded and examined the adjacent painting. "What about this one? It seems like a landscape typical of Van Gogh, but it's entirely new to me."
Stepping closer, Abigail explained, "Yes, this painting was done in 1889. It's called 'Wheat Field with Cypresses,' one of the paintings created during his one-year stay at the Saint-Rémy mental asylum."
Geon, astonished, inquired, "A mental asylum? Oh, I think I've heard of it. To paint such pieces even in a mental asylum, he must have been remarkable. The peculiar clouds and the golden-lit wheat field harmonize beautifully with the autumn sky. The cypress tree on the right looks like an obelisk from Egypt. Haha."
Abigail, encouraged by Geon's interest in art, enthusiastically explained. However, beneath his questions, Geon concealed complex thoughts.
"The colors in these paintings clash. The emotions won't connect well for viewers with this arrangement; it might hinder their focus."
Listening intently for a while, Geon seized a moment when Abigail paused and asked, "How many paintings from the 19th century are displayed in this gallery?"
Proudly, Abigail replied, "This place is called the '19th Century European Painting Gallery,' showcasing over 3,000 works by Monet, Seurat, Van Gogh, Gauguin, Manet, and many other renowned artists."
Geon whistled, feigning surprise, then quickly turned to the opposite wall. Slightly taken aback by Geon's deviation from the tour, Abigail followed him to the other side.
The painting Geon approached was labeled 'Garden at Sainte-Adresse / Claude Monet.' Examining it seriously, Geon turned to Abigail and asked, "Miss Abigail, what's this painting?"
Seating herself again beside the painting, Abigail raised her hand to explain. "It's Monet's painting, considered a quintessential piece disregarding perspective by the Impressionist painter."
Geon, arms crossed, shook his head. "No, why is there a fake painting hanging in the Metropolitan Museum of Art?"
Wide-eyed, Abigail inquired, "What? What do you mean by fake?"
"Forgery, indeed."
At the unexpected assertion, Abigail and Geon turned to a dignified voice behind them. Standing there was Daniel Weiss. Surprised by the CEO's presence, Abigail exclaimed.
"Sir, what brings you here? And a forgery?"
Daniel Weiss addressed Abigail, "There's damage at the top left of the painting, so it was sent to restoration. In the interim, a fake was displayed. Weren't you aware? Senior curators knew."
Flustered, Abigail retrieved a paper from her bag, an A4 sheet indicating today's memo about the movement of the 'Garden at Sainte-Adresse / Claude Monet' to the restoration room. Seeing this, she looked at Geon with astonishment.
Standing next to Geon, Daniel Weiss extended his hand. "You're the Kim Geon sent by Professor Sharon Isbin? Pleasure to meet you, I'm Daniel Weiss."
Geon shook Daniel Weiss's hand courteously. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Weiss. I'm from Juilliard, Kim Geon."
Daniel Weiss smiled. "You have an eye for art. Even our curators might have struggled to notice this well-crafted forgery."
At this, Abigail blushed. Sensing Geon's intention to comfort her, Daniel Weiss chuckled, addressing Geon, "Indeed. Without prior knowledge, I wouldn't have known either. Miss Abigail, don't fret."
Unable to speak, Abigail simply lowered her head. Daniel Weiss glanced at Geon, waiting for him to continue speaking, as Geon had paused mid-sentence.
"What's the matter? Please, tell me if something's wrong. I've spoken with Professor Leontine Price. I'd like Mr. Kim to try the approach you're suggesting."
Geon hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"Well... I don't think the issue with the 19th-century European painting gallery lies in the music."
Daniel Weiss raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
"What? Not the music? So, are you suggesting there's another problem?"
Geon continued hesitantly.
"Yes... It's... um..."
Daniel Weiss urged him on with an intrigued look.
"It's okay. Please go on, Mr. Kim."
Geon glanced at the paintings before speaking.
"Though it might seem presumptuous, it's hard for me to say this, but the problem in this corner isn't the 'music,' it's the 'arrangement.'"
Daniel Weiss looked at the paintings Geon was observing and asked.
"The arrangement? Are you referring to how the paintings are positioned?"
Geon nodded.
"Yes, the arrangement. Changing that could provide the solution."
After a moment of contemplation, Daniel Weiss looked directly at Geon and said.
"The 19th-century European painting gallery is indeed a collection of paintings by renowned artists from that era, but there's significance in their classification and arrangement. For instance, grouping floral paintings or those depicting light. The 19th century holds substantial art-historical significance, influencing the development of painting."
"Multiple curators meticulously decided on the arrangement based on scholarly sources, Mr. Kim. Saying the arrangement is incorrect is an affront to the pride of the Metropolitan Museum curators."
Geon, flustered, gestured in dismay.
"Oh, that wasn't my intention, Mr. Weiss. I just feel that the emotions portrayed in the paintings are so jumbled that it might distract the viewers."
With a raised eyebrow, Daniel Weiss inquired.
"Emotions? Emotions depicted in the paintings?"
Geon calmly explained while pointing at one of the paintings.
"This painting is here simply because it's a 'ballerina.' All the surrounding paintings also revolve around the theme of a ballerina."
Daniel Weiss nodded in agreement.
"Exactly. It's Edgar Degas' 'Ballerinas on Stage.' Degas was particularly known for painting ballerinas. But why is that a problem?"
Geon cautiously continued.
"Please don't dismiss this as presumptuous. Let me elaborate. What emotion do you feel from this 'Ballerinas on Stage'? How does the ballerina on stage look? Perhaps Degas wanted to express the 'joy' of a rookie ballerina's first performance."
Daniel Weiss, listening intently to Geon's words, studied the painting for a while before nodding in agreement. Geon moved to another painting.
"But this painting, titled 'Ballerinas in Pink Costumes among the Stage Sets,' is about 'tension.' It depicts ballerinas waiting nervously before stepping onto the stage."
Again, after a considerable time observing the painting, Daniel Weiss nodded. Geon stepped back, gesturing towards the entire wall of paintings.
"From left to right, speaking of the emotions conveyed by the artists, the first is 'joy,' then 'tension,' followed by 'sadness,' and right here is 'jealousy.' This arrangement, without considering the emotional line, disrupts focus."
Stepping back to view the wall, Daniel Weiss, who had been observing the paintings with a serious expression, finally turned to Geon.
"Would you like to change the arrangement yourself?"
Geon, surprised, responded.
"What? Mr. Weiss, with so many experts around, how could I possibly..."
Daniel Weiss approached and said softly.
"I am Daniel Weiss. I lead the New York Metropolitan Museum. There's only one reason I'm here: because I have an 'eye for people.'"
Extending his hand to Geon, he continued.
"This situation echoes with a resounding voice in my head, insisting that you should be in charge of this. Please, Mr. Kim."
Flustered, Geon hesitated before eventually taking Daniel Weiss's hand.