I spent the entire summer break staying in my dorm room, editing videos.
Honestly, the video editing itself wasn’t difficult.
I just had to cut out anything overly violent or problematic and keep the clips to 15-second segments. Since most of the videos were about animals, it felt somewhat therapeutic.
Sometimes, though, people sent me weird videos that gave me headaches. They were disgusting clips, seemingly taken straight from shock sites.
“…..”
Thud!
I closed my laptop for a moment to collect myself.
“….”
After taking a deep breath and calming down a little, a curse slipped from my mouth.
“Ah, fuck… Should I actually sue this bastard…?”
At some point, I had stopped swearing, yet this person managed to drag it back out of me. Truly, an incredible feat. Thankfully, my roommate, Mija, was away at her English academy, so I didn’t have to share this experience with her.
“Just let it go… I have so much to do…”
Sniffle…
After pulling myself together again, I deleted the video file. The rest of the editing process went smoothly.
“…..”
I glanced at the clock.
‘…It’s time for the meeting. I should get going.’
I changed into my outdoor clothes and left the dorm.
This exhibition was a group show at the “Korean Pavilion” of the New York Contemporary Art Fair, featuring artists of various age groups.
Because of this, we had to constantly coordinate schedules for traveling to New York and preparing the exhibition.
The allocation of display spaces was another matter that required continuous adjustment.
The participating artists were mainly scheduled to meet at the Jongno Government Complex of the Ministry of Culture and Tourism.
As expected of a government office, the meeting was set to take place in a pristine, air-conditioned room.
The First Day of the Meeting
As soon as I arrived, the artists of various ages, who had gathered for the meeting, started recognizing me. Their voices went up a few tones, as if they were talking about something irresistibly cute.
“Oh? Is that Go Hana, the student?”
“Go Hana, the artist?”
“…It’s Go Hana, the artist.”
“Wow, this feels like meeting a celebrity…!”
“Amazing.”
“….”
I gave them a polite bow.
“Hello, I’m Go Hana, a student at Hanul Integrated Arts School.”
At that, they cheered with excitement.
“Wow! It’s Go Hana!”
“Can we take a picture with you?”
“….”
To be honest, from my perspective, they were well-established, renowned artists practically mentors so they were the ones who felt more fascinating to me. But regardless of how I felt, they clapped and grinned as soon as I entered the meeting room.
Even the traditional Korean painting artist, who had been dozing off in the corner just moments ago, spoke up.
“Wow… You’re really cute. You look even better in person than in photos. I bet the boys in your neighborhood had a hard time keeping their hearts in check.”
“Oh, come on, old man, stop being so embarrassing. You can’t say things like that in front of someone young enough to be your daughter.”
“A society so harsh that a man can’t even tell a beautiful lady she’s beautiful. Ha ha ha… Miss, would you like some ice cream while you wait? I’ll buy it for you.”
He pointed to the ice cream shop sign visible through the window, insisting that he would go and get it himself.
‘Miss? Oh, come on… This is really too much.’
I quickly waved both hands in refusal.
“Ah, n-no… I’m fine.”
But as soon as I declined, the other artists, regardless of age or gender, started eagerly offering me things as well.
“Want some candy? This one’s really good.”
“Ah… Thank you. I’ll have it later.”
“Hey, is there any orange juice instead of coffee? Our dear Go Hana doesn’t have anything to drink. Geez, I should just go buy some.”
“Oh, no need! You really don’t have to! I’ll just drink coffee.”
“Huh? You drink coffee? Won’t you have trouble sleeping at night? It’s not good for kids.”
“I like black coffee, so I drink it often… And for the record, I’m not a kid.”
“…Pfft.”
“…”
One of the artists burst into laughter, then quickly put on a sheepish expression.
“Oh… No, I wasn’t laughing at you. It’s just… you’re adorable, that’s all.”
“…..”
Park Seokjo, a photographer based in Europe, watched the scene with amusement. His old, wrinkled face relaxed into a broad smile. Among the artists gathered here, he was the most senior.
“Ho ho, so our little genius artist has arrived. It’s truly an honor. Who would have thought we’d have the chance to exhibit together like this?”
“It’s my honor as well. I look forward to working with you.”
“I’m eager to see the world you’ll express in your next piece. No need for words your art will speak for itself.”
“…Thank you.”
“By the way, isn’t Han Mari supposed to be here?”
At the mention of Mari, I suddenly felt a twinge of guilt.
‘I am practicing going out to more crowded places near my house, but… I’m still not quite ready to speak in public like this.’
“Ah… Mari couldn’t make it due to some circumstances. Someone else will be speaking on her behalf.”
“And that would be…?”
Just then, we heard someone rushing into the meeting room.
thud!
“Kyah—?!”
“?”
“?”
“?”
Everyone turned their heads toward the source of the commotion.
Lying on the floor was a young woman with messy hair, dressed in a disheveled business suit, scrambling to gather the papers that had spilled around her.
She looked up at us, made awkward eye contact, and gave a forced smile.
“A-ahaha… Uh… I’m Han Mari’s manager. Or, well, something like that? Anyway, I’m Assistant Manager Jung Siyoon. …Haha.”
“…”
“…”
“….”
I looked at Assistant Manager Jung Siyoon and let out a wry smile.
She was someone that Director Kang had assigned as my successor. Not long ago, she had started regularly visiting Mari’s house, handling various tasks.
“To be of help in future matters.”
I had a feeling that the suddenly booming HU Group was planning something… but anyway.
For now, Assistant Manager Jung was here to attend the meeting in Mari’s place. After neatly organizing her scattered papers, she sat down next to me and whispered,
“…Hello, Artist Go Hana.”
“Hello, Assistant Manager.”
“S-so, how much of the meeting has already happened…?”
“Nothing yet.”
“Oh…! So I’m not late. Thank goodness.”
“But… why are you whispering?”
“?”
Assistant Manager Jung looked around. The other artists were simply chatting normally, making casual conversation.
She tilted her head, looking puzzled.
“…Now that you mention it, why am I whispering?”
“…”
I just shook my head.
Soon, an official from the Ministry of Culture and Tourism entered the room. He pulled up a large screen displaying the location and details of the New York art fair venue and began his presentation.
“The venue for this fair is the Javits Convention Center. It’s a large building located in Manhattan, right on the Hudson River. Since it was built specifically for expos, it has an expansive exhibition space inside.”
“It’s really right by the river, huh?”
“Yes, which means the wind is quite strong. Also, according to our site inspection team, because the building has glass exterior walls, the natural light inside is much stronger than in a typical exhibition hall. Please keep this in mind when planning your setups.”
And with that, the meeting officially began.
The discussion first focused on artists with prior experience exhibiting at large-scale overseas events.
“Painters should ideally be positioned away from direct light, deeper inside the venue. As long as the visitor traffic flow is well-planned, there won’t be much difference in foot traffic.”
“But many artists here use lighting or electronic equipment. Wouldn’t it be more efficient to place them in the corners where the wiring is easier to manage?”
“Hm… Usually, in cases like this, artists relying on artificial lighting are placed further in…”
Artists whose work depended on proper lighting and electricity were watching the conversation intensely, eager to secure the best spots. Without suitable conditions, their exhibits would be impossible to set up.
‘Well, if I were here alone, I’d be fighting just as hard to get the best location…’
Just then, Assistant Manager Jung spoke up.
“Actually, our cen…..um, team also did a preliminary site visit not long ago. We drafted a projected layout for wiring the venue in a way that allows all 20 artists in the Korean Pavilion to access as much electricity as they need.
We also consulted with the convention center staff, and as long as we restore everything to its original state after teardown, they confirmed there won’t be any issues.”
“!”
“!”
“!”
“…Would you like to take a look?”
She shyly held out the proposed layout plan.
The artists and government officials who examined it widened their eyes in astonishment.
It was a much more meticulously prepared plan than the rough draft that had been displayed on the screen earlier.
Additionally, various photos and information gathered from an on-site survey were attached. As a bonus, the annotations were detailed enough that even an elementary school student could understand them.
Before long, the writers, looking over the materials that Chief Jung had brought, conducted the meeting with a noticeably more relaxed attitude.
“With things like this, I don’t mind being placed here.”
“Oh, so you’re saying that it wouldn’t be a problem if our dear writer Hanmari were to be in this space?”
“Yes… well. But would such a large space really be okay?”
“Haha… Of course.”
I inwardly admired her handling of the situation.
‘She’s guiding the atmosphere so that Mari’s vague request lands in the most advantageous position possible. On top of that, by solving the issue of electrical wiring, the other artists have nothing to complain about…’
Of course, my work, being media art, wasn’t too dependent on location, so I could secure a decent spot while avoiding artists sensitive to light and wiring issues.
“Kohana, would this spot work for you?”
“…As long as the TV placement is set up properly, I have a lot of flexibility with the rest. Though, we will need to temporarily store the TVs outside the convention center before installation.”
The government official responded to my words.
“We’ve already taken care of that issue with the TV transport company. Fortunately, there’s a temporarily vacant space for rent in a nearby shopping area. If we store them there for a few days, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Then all that’s left is for me to handle the installation.”
With that, I watched the artists’ meeting with a lighter heart. They continued their discussion with serious expressions, going over artwork placements and local conditions.
“But one of your pieces is political are you sure that’s okay? I heard the atmosphere is getting weird with the U.S. midterm elections coming up.”
“Yeah, I saw on the news that protests against the president are breaking out. When those guys start protesting, they don’t hold back. They even loot nearby stores…”
“Hm… If I were scared of that, I wouldn’t have chosen a political theme. I mean, it’s not like they’ll actually come after me, right? Haha.”
The artist who had chosen the political theme joked. After that, the artists continued discussing installation plans based on the information Chief Jung had provided.
Over the next few days, they would finalize the schedule and order of their trip to New York.
Once the first meeting wrapped up, Chief Jung turned to me with a triumphant expression, like a puppy wagging its tail, waiting for praise.
“So? I did pretty well, right? This is all for our group’s next big projec….oh, oops, forget I said that.”
“…”
Saying it out loud and then asking me to forget it what was that about?
But being the mature soul that I was, I decided to play along.
“…Well, yeah. The information is incredibly detailed…”
“Hehe.”
With that, the meetings for the New York Contemporary Art Fair continued.
And before I knew it, two weeks remained until the fair until the day Mari and I would head to the U.S. to install our works.
*
Mari trembled violently, wearing headphones and a blindfold. She was gripping my hand tightly, her palm drenched in sweat.
“Uwoaaah…! H-Hana…! I can feel it! The scent of people…! Their breath…! Thousands of people moving through the airport…!”
“It’s still in the parking lot…?”
“…Oh.”
Chief Jung, walking beside us, was desperately pretending not to hear Mari’s nonsense. It reminded me of Manager Kang, in the way he subtly preserved her dignity.
‘Maybe it’s because he’s in a sort of successor position?’
I sighed as I watched the airport entrance slowly come into view. I was starting to worry about whether I could navigate this massive crowd with her in tow.
‘At least we’re on a privately booked flight, so there won’t be any reporters or government officials holding a welcome ceremony. Thank goodness for that.’
And just like that…
I was on my way to New York.