Smack!

Once again, the warm light of the electric lamps filled the studio.

Wattle opened his eyes hard.

The painting, still lying quietly on the surface of the workbench, is like a sleeping beauty waiting to be kissed and awakened.

Waterle's eyes widened larger than cowbells.

Bend down.

He leaned down in the posture of a prince kissing the princess, and the tip of his nose was only a fist from the surface of the paper, sweeping inch by inch over the surface of the painting.

This touch, this smudge.

How does this brilliant sunshine blend seamlessly with the cold and hazy atmosphere of the river?

How did the other party use such a simple, restrained and clean color to fill the details of the whole painting on the basis of the large light and shadow of his own tone?

How did you draw such brilliant and hazy edges without using white space?

He looked at it in amazement.

One thought after another popped into my head.

His mind was fully focused on admiring the work, and he subconsciously reached out his hand to touch the painting.

Mr. Wattle immediately reacted that it was probably after a freshly drawn work.

He regretted it and wanted to stomp his hand off.

"What are you messing with, what if you press a handprint!"

Fortunately.

The watercolor is not an oil painting, Gu Weijing's shallow last layer of thin cover dyeing on the picture has been dry in such a short time.

When you touch your fingertips, you have a wonderful sense of steadiness.

Syllable!

Wattle tugged at his heart, and the levitating hot air balloon was punctured by a finger and fell back into the world.

The heart fell back to the ground, but the dream was not broken.

The painting, which extended infinitely from his dream, lay quietly on the table, within reach.

The sketch teacher looked at the work in amazement.

If he didn't know it clearly.

During this time, apart from himself, only Gu Weijing had entered this workshop, and there was no third person.

As for the general lines of light and shadow on the works, he has painted thousands of times.

Burned to ashes, he also knew.

Wattle must have thought that this was a master's watercolor work.

It was a masterpiece painted by the top watercolor masters in the world, and it was inadvertently put on his desk.

No, no, no.

This painting was supposed to be a masterpiece, and it is now.

Whether it is a master's work has nothing to do with who the creator is, and whether it was painted by Turner or an 18-year-old high school student.

With this sense of atmosphere portrayed and rendered.

Even if it was a big golden retriever with a ham sausage in his mouth and pressed it with his paws, it was still a dog master who could make Wattle kneel directly.

In particular, this painting is based on Wattel's own work, and he was deeply impacted.

He was already confused.

"Ohhhh, can this picture be painted like this?"

"Ohhhh, can this painting still be painted like this?"

"Ohhhh, how the hell is this painting made?"

Turning stones into gold like magic, Waltel's decades of learning to paint and his knowledge of the art world accumulated during his teaching career were devastated.

He retracted what he had just said about gift-giving, and he ...... I really haven't seen the world.

The paints and colors are clearly in front of you.

It's not complicated.

Wattle could even pick out the same color at once, but he knew that even if he painted it a hundred times, he would not have the best of the best.

The slightest mistake is a thousand miles wrong.

Because "almost" is not enough.

The real world and the works of painting, whether the realistic painting has a sense of realism or not, the difference seems to be only a thin line.

In fact, it is as high as clouds and mountains and mist, and far away as the end of the cape.

Now this work is like a cloud, a mountain and a mist, like a cape of the world, in front of Professor Wattel's eyes.

On the contrary, he has never understood so clearly in his life as he did at this moment.

He once thought that he could break through the bottleneck by hard work, and he could use the accumulated hard work to polish a perfect photo-like work like a crow drinking water.

It's stupid.

He can't understand such a work even if he looks at it, so how can he draw it?

"I'm stupid, really."

The sketch teacher licked his mouth and shook his head, like a big golden retriever with fluffy hair.

At first, he was still thinking about the way to study the techniques of this painting, but after looking at it for a while, he began to think about how Gu Weijing could paint such a work, people can really be genius to such a point, if he paints another one, can he still draw the same thing?

By now, Wattle didn't want to think about that anymore.

Such a picture in front of it.

There was no point in him thinking about it anymore.

All that remains is the awe of the pure beauty of each art practitioner, of the technique of pure mountain-like contemplation.

He knew that the last layer of overlay and the abundance of little details on this watercolor paper were up to the sky, and he certainly couldn't draw them, and these two things were enough.

Even today.

Gu Weijing said that Santa Claus secretly climbed in through the window and painted the painting for him, and Wattle believed it.

Slap such a work in his face, and say that everyone is right.

This is the picture in his dream.

Wattle jumped the table to the top of the bench and pulled the chair back until it was against the wall, fetching the unfinished beer from the top of the cabinet.

"It turns out that the work in my dream looks like this, Gu, you used your talent to destroy my dream of being an artist, but you gave me this dream completely."

Vattel muttered a foul word in German.

Smiled again.

"It's a dream every ten years."

That night, Professor Wattel did not come home all night.

That night, Bayern Munich beat Wolfburg 3-1, and midfielders Gorezka and Muller made a shocking wave.

The TV next door was greeted with a cheering commentary of the narrator's roaring "GOAL".

Wattle didn't look at it.

He just sat in a chair, looked at the painting for a while, took a sip of beer, and then looked at the painting for a while.

It's like watching the best ball game in the world.

Crying, laughing, laughing, and laughing until dawn.

——

[Dear Lara Schfer, Director of the Hamburg Art Association——]

[I haven't seen you for many years, are you okay?] I wish you all the best, I am writing to you because of an old incident in which I met with the president of the Hamburg Art Association, and during the meeting, we talked about photorealist paintings......]

The next day, when it was getting dark.

Mr. Wattel, who had not slept all night and had some messy hair, sat at his desk and wrote on paper with a pen.

He originally wanted to send an email directly, but after turning on the computer, he felt that such an important matter was not transmitted electronically without enough sense of ceremony.

There are a lot of all-electronic paintings in the artist group, and there are also many retro people who hate all electronic products.

Wattle is neither.

But in the face of one of the most important things in his life, he found a few sheets of manuscript paper, envelopes and glue that Dulwich had sent them from a drawer, and wrote them on paper with a pen.

【…… I think it's time to create something satisfying. But, about this painting-]

Wattle lifted the pen gently.

He stared at the manuscript paper in front of him, hesitated for half a minute, and then put pen to paper.

[——This painting was not created entirely by me, I would love to monopolize the authorship of this painting, but I am a teacher, and my sense of professional ethics made me decide to choose honest ......]

He took the note out of his pocket, looked at the message on it, and smiled.

Gu Weijing said very generously that this painting was a gift from the other party, and as a reward for guiding him to a small class, he could dispose of it.

This is already obvious.

Wattle is not a saint, and he does have a heart.

For a few minutes, Wattel even seriously considered to hell with the shitty Hamburg Art Society.

The basis of this kind of picture effect, hanging a name to participate in an art exhibition is the choice to maximize personal interests.

Don't say anything else.

As long as the judges still have some conscience, it is not difficult to be shortlisted for the audition of a biennale after all.

As long as an art practitioner has participated in a well-scale biennale, his career can officially set sail.

Signing up for a regular urban gallery is not a big problem.

The guests at the European Art Annual Conference are the ceiling of the industry, and everyone is a legend.

Analogous to football, it is equivalent to the star of Bayern's first team.

But it is unattainable in life, for ordinary people, and for art practitioners.

And this kind of painters who have participated in one or two biennials are equivalent to young players who work hard in the third division.

They are the middle force in the entire artist industry.

In Gu Weijing's calligraphy and painting shop, the most expensive works of the town store are the works of painters of this magnitude.

You can even get into the view of some of the top galleries.

And if you can win some important awards, you can take off directly, and your worth will be doubled and doubled.

This is for Wattle.

It's already a dream that has come true.

But he gave up on the tempting idea.

Not to mention that non-figurative works of photorealism can be exhibited in a very narrow direction, and there is no problem in opening a solo exhibition.

But if you want to submit, I don't know how long I have to squat before I can squat at a biennale with a suitable theme and direction.

Not to mention such a thing as an art exhibition, it is not a good painting that will definitely win an award.

Most importantly.

How can there be a painter in the world who relies on a painting to eat for a lifetime?

Not his level.

After all, you can't fool people.

As a cheater who may not be a blockbuster, but will definitely be exhausted, Watel chooses to be an honest person.

Gu Weijing heard Wattle talk about his dreams.

But he guessed one thing wrong.

Sketch teachers are no longer young people.

The other party has reached the age of the old uncle who only dares to drink a bottle of cold beer every day and plans to go to the beach in Bangkok to buy a sea-view house and retire.

He wanted to join the Hamburg Art Society, which had become an obsession in Waltel's mind.

The original intention has not changed.

But he was no longer looking for success or making money, and the part of his chest about ambition that had been churning in his chest had long since calmed down in the ordinary life of the day-to-day life.

All he longed for was to find an answer for ten years of perseverance.

By the time the painting was on the table, Wattle had already had the answer.

Gu Weijing is very sensible.

The sketch teacher felt that he couldn't be ignorant and take advantage of other children.

Teaching is just a teacher's duty, and the content of this painting goes far beyond that.

Wattel wanted to be famous, and he wanted to join the Hamburg Artists Association.

Twenty years younger, he is ready to find the right opportunity to contribute.

But now he wants someone to raise a glass to him at a cocktail party and say, "Wattle, you've painted such a great work!" At that time, he was able to talk frankly about this beautiful story, boasting of his insight, and discovering what a good painter he was.

Instead of quietly lowering your head and using a sip of wine to hide the embarrassment in your heart.

Make up your mind.

Professor Wattel's pen was fast, the rustle of the pen sliding across the paper.

【…… It's hard for me to describe exactly what you do, the excitement I felt when I opened the door of my studio and found what kind of outstanding work was lying on my desk, and it was the feeling when dreams came true. When you look at the photo I enclosed in the envelope, you should understand what I'm talking about......]

[If you feel that this form of work, with its originality and independence, cannot meet the threshold of joining KICH, I can understand it very well. 】

Wattel is writing to a member of the board of directors of the Hamburg Artists Association named Laura.

In Germany, Hamburg is much more rural than a cosmopolitan city like Berlin, and there are many people to meet.

After all, he is a local snake in Hamburg, and he still knows some people.

One of the three member recommenders who applied to join the local art association that year included Ms. Laura, and the two of them were also old friends, and they came out of a high school.

The other party is his senior sister!

When he was studying, this Ms. Laura was not beautiful, but her paintings were very aura, and her father was also a psychiatrist, belonging to the kind of children who were envied by others.

It's just that everyone's fate is different.

When he was in college, Wattle went abroad, and the other party went to the Academy of Fine Arts in Hamburg.

Ten years ago, when he was an alternate member, she was already a full member of KICH.

Several association art exhibitions, internal recommendation and contract galleries, academic exchanges, personal exhibitions......

The gap between people and people is widened on such occasions.

Ten years later.

Wattle is still an alternate member, and Ms. Laura is already a director of the association, and there has been a lot less contact over the years.

He himself works as a teacher in a private school, and his income is not low, but he can't be called how shabby his life is.

But well.

For the artist's career, they are already two very different worlds.

This time, Wattle wrote a new letter to the other party.

[However, I mentioned to you in my letter that Gu Weijing must be a young man worth paying attention to. Not only watercolor, but also sketches are very good (a sample of his sketches is included with the letter), it seems that in the field of oriental art, there are also quite outstanding achievements among peers, and I have intersected and co-created with Mr. Cao Xuan. 】

[I learned that he would very much like to attend your alma mater, the Academy of Fine Arts in Hamburg. I don't know if your teacher is interested in him......]

(End of chapter)