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Chapter 77 - Chapter 76 – Alphonse Mucha (3)

"Hey, Jean! Did you fail again today?"

"Don't even mention it, damn it."

In a cabaret in Montmartre.

Jean, the struggling artist—or rather, the aspiring artist—cursed as he quenched his thirst with cheap wine, just as he always did.

He had come to Paris with nothing but a burning passion for art, but it didn't take long for his dreams to crumble.

Even though the wave of Impressionism had subsided, and the art world had entered a period of stagnation, he hadn't expected Paris to be like this…

The entire art world had entered a recession, with even the apprentices being dismissed.

No matter how much he searched, he couldn't find any workshop, atelier, or studio willing to take him on as an apprentice.

In the end, he remained a third-rate student at a third-rate university.

"Damn it, owner! One more bottle of wine, please."

Jean shook the empty wine bottle with a flushed face. The owner clicked his tongue and said to him.

"Are you sure? You know you still owe me money."

"Ugh… I'm sorry. I'll definitely pay you back."

"Don't just say that."

The cabaret owner handed Jean a flier.

Jean noticed it was a flier and, struggling to focus his blurry vision, read the contents.

····· Assistant Wanted at Studio!>

<No conditions, gender-neutral, no experience required!>

<English speakers preferred!>

<Salary Provided!!>

Salary Provided?!

Jean's eyes widened. A salary for an apprentice? Like a regular employee?

'What kind of nonsense is this?'

An apprentice with a salary? Is the owner of this studio a red or something?

Suspicious, Jean checked the studio's name at the top of the flyer once more.

<Assistant Wanted at Alphonse Mucha Studio>

"Hmm."

Alphonse Mucha is undeniably one of the most prominent painters in Paris.

Though he was a Slav from Czechia, his talent was undeniable, and his unique style had quickly taken over Paris.

… Though some said it was excessively worldly, at least it wasn't true of him.

'My pockets are empty, but is that important?'

Even though there were always a lot of commissions, this studio was famous for not hiring apprentices.

But now they were hiring apprentices?

'This is an opportunity!'

Jean thanked the owner and, in a good mood, asked for another glass of wine.

He planned to visit the studio as soon as morning came.

'But will I even get chosen?'

He brushed off his anxiety with the wine.

However, his worries turned out to be unfounded.

As it turned out…

"Here, all the lines are done!"

"Next, send it for coloring!!"

"This part is slightly off…"

"Try to erase it as much as possible!! If it doesn't work, we can fix it later!"

What is this? A chicken coop? The scene before him was so chaotic, that it was hard to think otherwise.

As expected from the studio with the most commissions in Paris, Mucha's studio was quite large compared to others.

It wasn't just the house; it was an apartment with three rooms, which made it even larger.

Yet this space now… seemed incredibly, incredibly cramped.

Instead of easels like in other studios, numerous painters were seated in two rows in front of a massive desk.

Seeing this, Jean couldn't help but think.

'… A factory?'

The scene strongly overlapped with the small industrial factories he used to visit near Paris when he was broke.

The people working like cogwheels in those factories flashed vividly in his mind.

While he was still dazed and hesitating, a beautiful young woman with familiar blonde hair darted between the tables and shouted at him.

"Welcome! You must be the new recruit?"

"Yes, yes. That's right. I'm Jean."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Adela Mucha."

Mucha. As expected, this person was Alphonse Mucha's sister, and apparently, the real manager.

Now that I think about it, I've seen women with these features in his paintings several times.

"First, let me ask you. Can you handle inking? Coloring? Can you do backgrounds too?"

"Uh, yes. Despite appearances, I'm a graduate of an art school. Just give me any task."

At first, he was surprised by the unfamiliar environment, but wasn't it his goal to work here?

But with so many people around…

He was overwhelmed by the fear that he might be told to leave.

'That can't happen.'

Jean, though somewhat nervous, made a confident appeal.

It was unusual for an apprentice to be asked about their skills right away, but he didn't have time to think about it.

Adela scanned him up and down a few times, then smiled warmly and said.

"Is that so? Then you can handle coloring. But you can't start right away, so let's start with this task. Here you go."

"Yes?"

Adela pulled something from a nearby desk and handed it to Jean, who took it absent-mindedly.

"Here's an example of the work process. Just follow it exactly. I'll be checking in, so for now, just colour these three pages."

"This is…"

It was titled <Illustration Official Reference Book>, <Author: Alphonse Mucha>.

"This is a reference book for my brother. Once you get used to this, you'll move on to other tasks."

Inside, there were instructions on how to draw, along with print illustrations.

Turning to the front, he saw pages adorned with the elaborate colours typical of Art Nouveau, unlike the black-and-white pages he had been given.

He was both bewildered and fascinated by this new concept as he began working.

His eyes followed the instructions with a focus.

Intense colours. And finely tuned lines.

Instructions on adjusting colour placement to emphasize splendour, and how to use slightly darker yellow on the face while fading to white from the chin downward, among other techniques.

'Are they really teaching an apprentice this right away?'

Of course, seeing it didn't mean he could instantly replicate it.

He might manage a rough imitation, but capturing the unique brush strokes and the decadent sensibility of the artwork would be another challenge.

'I don't know what they're thinking, but…'

It was a tremendous opportunity.

Even this task was a practice in matching the specific colour tones by referring to examples.

Considering that there are cases where apprentices aren't even allowed to handle brushes for over three years, this was quite revolutionary.

He continued working diligently.

It wasn't just about money or such matters. He wanted to absorb as much as he could from this place.

Meanwhile, Adela Mucha watched him with a pleased expression.

***

What I proposed to Alphonse Mucha was nothing less than…

Literally, a 'factory model.'

In other words, a future assistant system.

A division of labour where the artist only does the sketches, and the assistants handle the inking, coloring, and backgrounds.

Division of labour had accelerated mass production for humanity and had significantly changed modern lifestyles.

Mucha's style, with its clear divisions into sections, resembled comic art in many ways.

The problem was the potential leakage of Mucha's know-how…

—It doesn't matter.

—Really? Is that okay with you?

—Yes, I'm not doing anything extraordinary… If my style can spread to more people, that's even better.

One thing was certain: Mucha had an unusually kind, almost saintly personality.

—In that case, I might get some rest too?

—…

Perhaps it was because he was overwhelmed with work?

Given that he was always buried in tasks and eventually published books containing his techniques, it might be a natural course of events.

So I came up with ideas along those lines.

One of them was the publication of a book containing his concept designs, <Official Reference Book>.

Simple parts were done using prints, with detailed retouching and more intricate coloring done by multiple staff, ensuring a quality befitting a 'professional book.'

It wasn't full-scale mass production, but this premium edition was quite a hit.

In the city of art, Paris, there were plenty of people willing to spend money on 'secret books' containing the techniques of others.

With the success of this venture, funded by Mr. Miller and myself, Mucha was able to find time to accompany his American tour, and my contract was...

"Nice to meet you... I'm Anna Mucha..."

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Hanslow Jin."

"Oh, nice to meet you..."

I shook hands with Anna Mucha, the second sister of the seemingly relaxed Alphonse Mucha. As his sister, she had come to London specifically to manage his work.

True to Alphonse Mucha's description of her as a "quick and perceptive" person, she was already proving to be very helpful.

"Well, I look forward to working with you..."

So, we had secured a new illustrator... or rather, an 'illustrator.' This would eventually allow us to expand and possibly even create a 'British branch of the Alphonse Mucha Studio.'

While we might start with small-scale production, if the studio grows, more and more artworks will flow out. Could this be the true essence of pop art?

And the first step in my ambition was...

"Anna Mucha, would you be interested in publishing an art book?"

"An art book... you mean Pierre Perris?!"

"Yes, that one."

I nodded.

This was also one of the reasons for my contract with Mucha.

Although I had used even the forbidden technique of summoning a wheelchair, many fans still couldn't accept the conclusion of Peter Perry.

The first thing I selected to appease these fans was an art book.

"If you go to the publisher, you'll find the reference book I sent earlier. Pick anything you like and design it as you wish."

"Yes, yes!! Of course. He-he, an art book, an art book... the reference book for Pierre Perris ...!"

This person is practically drooling.

Mucha had said he was a true fan of my work, but I didn't expect this level of enthusiasm.

I sent Anna Mucha to London and informed Bentley Publishing to take over. Now, Bentley and Anna would handle the rest.

Hmm, it felt a bit overwhelming, but overall, the progress was quite satisfactory.

Just as I was about to relax and enjoy my French vacation again...

"Is there a Mr. Jin, or, Jin Hanslow here?"

"Yes, that's me."

"Yes, it's a telegram from Mr. Bentley in London."

"London?"

What's this? Unless it's an emergency, there shouldn't be any contact, and the new recruit I'd contracted with hadn't even arrived yet.

As I unfolded the telegram with curiosity, I saw it was accompanied by a request from the publisher.

The sender was... surprisingly, New York, USA.

And not just any New York...

"... United States Mint Police?"

Why are they contacting me from here?