Almighty painter

Chapter 1044 You Have the Wolf of Wall Street, I Have the Tiger of the Major Crimes Unit (Part 2)
(But so what if you have a fever? Procrastination, I'm going to stomp on your face.)
(Second update, 10000 words.)
"The history of European art since the 19th century has been almost a process of this sacredness being questioned and challenged time and time again."

"Mr. Sloth said."

Do you believe this unrepeatable sacredness still exists?

Gu Weijing did not give an immediate answer.

"Okay, then I'll rephrase the question."

The host continued, “Perhaps you can say it’s the sacredness of handcraft, perhaps you can say it’s the subtle brushstrokes or the atmosphere of the painting, perhaps you can use theories like those in ‘The Little Prince,’ where there are a thousand roses in the world, ten thousand roses, but the effort you put into one rose makes it so different to you. Perhaps you think a painting is like a piece of amber, freezing your time and emotions, because time is gone and never returns, so this painting is also unique to you.”

"first."

"Similar statements can be applied to poetry, right?"

"Mr. Sloth said."

"Poetry also embodies the poet's time and emotions; it is the crystallization of their hard work. I have never heard of the idea that printing a thousand copies of a poem would cause its essence to be lost. This kind of reverence for handcrafted items only exists in the art industry, right?"

"Secondly, if this sacredness is truly unrepeatable, then how do you view printmaking? And how do you view commercial illustration? Both have achieved unimaginable success over the past fifty years."

Gu Weijing said, "It's not quite the same. The charm of this handcrafted quality lies in the fact that, with current technology, we may not be able to reproduce an exact replica of a work. A work is unique from the moment it is created. It's like history; we can only approach it infinitely, but we can never truly reach it."

"We can only get infinitely close to recreating it, but we can never truly touch it..."

"Boring."

Mr. Sloth interrupted Gu Weijing.

"boring."

"Just some old clichés."

"Let me put it more simply. Let's talk about AI. It seems that people in the arts and culture industry hate AI, right? Hollywood screenwriters are on strike again, the film industry is boycotting AI, and illustrators hate AI. AI's works lack humanity; they can't provide genuine emotions and warmth. This also seems to be a kind of insistence on the 'sacredness of humanity'."

"The so-called emotion and warmth are like the irreproducibility you mentioned, or the gap between the foam ball and the cardboard box in that analogy."

"Imagine one day, maybe 20 years from now, maybe 200 years from now, you won't need to paint by hand anymore; AI will paint it. AI can copy your work a thousand times. Each copy will have the exact same brushstrokes and colors as your original. Even at the molecular level, the two works will be exactly the same."

"Do you think such a thing won't happen?" Mr. Sloth said.

Gu Weijing thought for a while.

"No, maybe. I believe it might happen."

"Where exactly is this so-called humanity? Where exactly are those irreplaceable emotions and warmth? Isn't this a rather pointless argument? Could it be that there was never any gap between the foam and the cardboard box?" Mr. Sloth's tone was somewhat provocative.

"Where does love exist?"

This is also a question that Anna often thinks about.

If artworks can be replicated exactly, if the so-called masterpiece "Mona Lisa" is no different from limited edition sneakers, or even possibly unlimited sneakers.

So how should we treat them?

This question leads to many more science fiction-inspired imaginings. Imagine if interstellar teleportation were possible. A machine could instantly disassemble you into atomic states, and somewhere in the Centaurus constellation, there would be a holographic printer capable of printing you out exactly as you were, using materials that perfectly replicate your atomic structure.

So are you still you?
Is the you who just appeared in the Centaurus constellation the same person as the you who just disappeared from Earth?
even.

According to Poincaré's theory of recurrence, molecules in constant motion within a system will eventually return to their original positions. Therefore, similar events will occur again and again in the infinitely distant past and future.

They will meet again, they will argue again, Miss Elena will throw that little porcelain cup out of the car window again, shattering it on the road, and Gu Weijing will record this podcast with her again...

Again, again and again.
So what exactly did Gu Weijing's extensive talk about "love" change?

Miss Elena never liked the way Gu Weijing spoke of love in front of her—that clean, calm tone, carrying a sense of piety.

That always reminded her of the argument that broke out on the day they parted on bad terms, and his sarcastic remarks about her not understanding love.

"not boring."

Gu Weijing spoke in a clean, calm tone, with a sense of reverence.

"Why? Or do you believe that there is a heaven, with a white-bearded old man with a halo guarding the door, who will allow everyone who is willing to believe in 'love' to ascend to heaven?"

Mr. Sloth couldn't resist raising the small leather whip in his hand.

"Do not."

"God doesn't need love, but humans do. God doesn't need to think, but humans do. Even if God laughs when humans think, humans still need to think."

Gu Weijing said.

“My agent, Anna, is a big fan of science fiction. I’ll answer you with a story from ‘The Hitchhiker’ that she likes to quote.”

"Some things cannot be simplified or omitted."

"The universe itself doesn't need answers; it's humanity that does. And even if one day, an unprecedented super machine appears, capable of telling you God's address and Buddha's phone number, and after a hundred years it finally calculates that the ultimate answer to the universe is 42."

"You also need to figure out what that ultimate question is."

"so."

"Love and thought are the two least boring things in the world. Or rather, even if they are so boring, we should choose love and thought."

Gu Weijing replied.

"In my heart, it is the meaning of the existence of works of art, and also human courage."

Mr. Sloth remained silent for a long time.

In that moment of silence, someone heard the cracking of the glacier.
-
Yang Dekang let out a long sigh of relief, leaned back in his chair, and tossed the earphones he was wearing aside.

He stretched, his belly pressing against the table. The middle-aged man wiggled his belly, pushing the chair back a few centimeters.

"call!"

Yang Dekang heard the squeaking sound of his dry lumbar disc moving.

"I'm getting old, I can't play around like a young person anymore," Teacher Yang remarked.

A podcast program somehow gave Mr. Yang the feeling of an MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) match. The two fighters were exchanging blows, with one side delivering a left front kick and the other a right roundhouse kick...

This is also why Mr. Yang made a firm promise to Tang Ning that he would not become Gu Weijing's new agent.

Can't afford it.

We simply can't afford to play this game.

Watching Miss Elena and Mr. Gu Weijing lashing each other with their little whips was enough. I could just rush in and become the little whip in their role-playing game.

That's just unbearable.

Before the couple even got into any real trouble, Teacher Yang might come out with a bruised and swollen face.

on the other hand.

Compared to these young people in their twenties, since Yang Dekang could call Gu Weijing "brother," he naturally had to use the wisdom unique to older people.

As the saying goes, taking a step back opens up a vast expanse of sky and sea.

Another important reason he rejected Tang Ning was that after giving up becoming Gu Weijing's personal agent, Yang Dekang's life suddenly became much brighter; Mr. Yang had already found his true target—

"Beep."

The phone vibrated twice.

Yang Dekang picked up his phone and glanced at it. His friend Gu Tongxiang, whom he had set to chat, had sent him a new message.

“I saw your post on WeChat Moments, it’s really cool!” Gu Tongxiang said.

"Thank you, I really like the gift."

Yang Dekang replied.

“I also really like the vase you gave me. The leopard from Mount Kilimanjaro? It’s really tough,” Gu Tongxiang said.

“The birdcage is also very authentic,” Yang Dekang said.

"Did you see the photos I posted?" Yang Dekang selected a photo he had taken earlier of a coffee cup, a birdcage, and a parrot on a table.

"I just went to pick up a package and bought a cup of coffee while I was there."

"My parrot can read Hegel," Old Yang started showing off.

"Really? That's so cool!" Gu Tongxiang asked.

"To be precise... well, I'm still learning." Yang Dekang might show off in front of others, but in front of Brother Gu, he surprisingly maintained a clear mind and humility.

"My parrot seems to have a bit of a language problem. But... who knows, maybe one day it will learn to read Hemingway!"

Yang Dekang offered an explanation.

"Okay, don't rush, take your time. Be very careful, the cat at home has been let wild by Weijing, it scratches people all the time. Next time, you show Weijing what a truly good pet is!"

“Right, right!”

As soon as the topic came up, Old Yang was wide awake: "Your cat just needs to go hungry for two meals..." The two old men, who had been scratched by Awang until they were crying and screaming, gave Awang a five-minute lecture on WeChat, both saying that next time they met, they would definitely make the tabby cat realize its profound mistake.

They parted in tears.

Old Yang stood up and stared at the parrot in the cage.

"Next time, you absolutely mustn't embarrass your grandpa, you know?" Old Yang said.

The parrot remained silent.

"Di Di!"

The phone on the table rang again.

Yang Dekang glanced at it and found that it was still a message from Gu Tongxiang, who quoted the picture that Yang Dekang had sent earlier.

[By the way, I think the law should stipulate that Starbucks must give free meals to cool guys who bring a parrot that can recite Hegel's words!] — Gu Tongxiang's final comment.

Man!

Yang Dekang swung his arm fiercely, his eyes almost brimming with tears.

To have one true friend in life is enough!
Gu Weijing, what does it matter that my brother Gu was able to find a work he couldn't buy in a small gallery? What does it matter that he might miss out on a sports car because of his stinginess over five euros!

Smaller.

The layout is too small.

What Brother Gu talks about—love, brushstrokes, colors—is nothing more than technique.

He doesn't understand the true "Tao".

Brother Gu doesn't understand the true power of dominance!

Although he didn't become Gu Weijing's agent, he could become his grandfather's agent.

"Next time we meet, let's each talk our own thing."

Yang Dekang walked to the liquor shelf, picked up a bottle of gin, unscrewed the cap, and poured it into a stemmed glass. He then gently added a small amount of vodka and finally a slice of apple.

"This is the kind of strong liquor a man should drink!"

Yang Dekang looked at the martini in the glass, tossed the small spoon aside, and gently shook it.

Shake well, do not stir.

typical!

He brought the glass to his nose and sniffed it, inhaling the unique aroma of apple fragrance molecules gradually dissolving in alcohol with a concentration high enough to be ignited.

Yang Dekang felt that his domineering aura had reached its peak.

"I will still call you Brother Gu."

Teacher Yang downed the king of cocktails in one gulp and let out a long sigh.

"And you, my friend."

"You can choose to call me Master Yang, or—"

"Old Yang."
-
Summer has passed and autumn has arrived, and another winter is upon us.

A yellow sedan pulled up in front of a detached three-story house. It was an upscale neighborhood, only a five-minute drive from Hamburg's city center, but very quiet.

The streets are lined with tall oak trees.

Unlike the common European white oak in Germany, these are special varieties imported from Canada by real estate developers. In autumn, like common trees, their leaves first turn yellow and then turn into the color of red maple.

It never loses its leaves in any season.

When the following spring arrives, the leaves on these branches will turn from red to green again, just like a withered tree coming back to life.

This wasn't Gu Weijing's first time visiting this place.

But every winter when he comes here, while most of the trees in Hamburg are bare, this place is bathed in a fiery red glow, like a sunset. Gu Weijing is always amazed by the wonders of nature.

Professor Samuel Kötzenberger once remarked in front of his watercolor painting "Winter" that if he were to handle the subject, he would do the opposite of the cool tones that German painters historically favored. He might use vibrant, almost burning colors to express the cold.

The other person's inspiration probably came from this forest.

Before Gu Weijing's car had even come to a complete stop, the gate to the small courtyard had already opened. After he reversed the car twice, finally parking the hatchback between a BMW station wagon and a caravan, he...

Professor Kozens and his family were already waiting at the door.

Four years together might have been a kind of mutual conquest—

Kozens' unique insights into painting style and form captivated Gu Weijing, while Gu Weijing's improved watercolor technique also impressed this sharp-tongued teacher.

Many things are changing.

When Gu Weijing first arrived at the Watercolor Department of the Academy of Fine Arts, although he had recently won the gold medal at an international biennial, his name was more often mentioned by his classmates as a supporting character in a gossip story.

In addition, Gu Weijing is usually very low-key.

Therefore, he was just one of the many students in the department, not particularly outstanding, and far from being as radiant as Anna Elena.

Four years later.

As Gu Weijing neared graduation, his unassuming personality could no longer conceal the brilliance surrounding him. He became the most influential figure among the new generation of artists, and the focus of art media worldwide.

The nickname "the great painter" that Kozens initially used to call him no longer had a sarcastic or mocking nature.

If I'm not being modest...

Gu Weijing fully deserves the title of "great painter"; he is a true master in the master project.

He was so brilliant that, setting aside the teacher-student relationship, Gu Weijing's status in the art world might not be lower than that of a highly respected scholar like Mr. Kozens.

Kozens is also far less sarcastic than before.

He still couldn't help teasing the students, but his words were now much kinder and gentler than before.

"Still so inexperienced, aren't you?"

Looking out the car window at the young man sitting quietly with his hand on the steering wheel, Kozens walked over and knocked on the window.

The young man realized what was happening.

He seemed to finally make sure the car was parked before unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door.

"Gu, you've been in Germany for almost four years. The birthplace of Michael Schumacher, the automobile capital of Europe. It's really embarrassing that you're so nervous about parking."

The man said jokingly.

"I was a little nervous the whole time."

Gu Wei was responsible for placing it on the ceiling of the Polo.

"Ignore him. Last time we went to Munich, wasn't it me who drove? Welcome..." Unlike Professor Kozens' cold and sarcastic style, Professor Kozens' wife was a typical warm and friendly German auntie.

She was very beautiful when she was young.

But as I've gotten older, I've become a little chubby.

She nudged her husband's shoulder and beckoned Gu Weijing to come in.

"Hurry up, dinner will be ready soon. I made an apple pie especially for you," the woman said.

"Wait a moment, I brought a gift." Gu Weijing lagged behind and turned around to open the trunk of the Polo.

They look a lot like Uncle Sakai's family.

Mr. Kozens is not the stereotypical European artist with a "broken family" or "many lovers." Professor Kozens had a wife when he was young, but that marriage only lasted a few months.

now.

He and his current wife have been together for over 20 years and have two children.

They also have a son and a daughter. However, unlike Katsuko Sakai and Tsunamasa Sakai, the older son is the older sister, and the younger daughter is the younger sister, with an age difference of almost ten years.

Apart from my son who is studying architecture at university in Berlin.

Gu Weijing brought a special gift for each member of Professor Kozens' family. The younger sister received a set of earmuffs, the mother a vase, and Professor Kozens received a homemade greeting card.

"Oh, did you make this vase yourself?"

Professor Kozens examined the vase in his wife's hand and asked.

"Don't you like it?" Gu Weijing asked.

"Stop being so picky." The woman shoved her husband.

"No, if you made it yourself, that could be considered bribing the judges of the Master Project with an extremely valuable gift."

(End of this chapter)