Italy is a cultural powerhouse recognized by the world.
Even just listing some of the renowned sculptors etched into its history makes it impossible not to agree.
Gian Lorenzo Bernini (1598–1680), a Baroque sculptor who beautifully expressed sweet and seductive sensuality.
Francesco Queirolo (1704–1762), who used Rococo techniques to showcase exquisite delicacy and ornate elegance.
Giuseppe Sanmartino (1720–1793), a realist sculptor known for his three-dimensional, intricate, and almost fantastical realism.
Giovanni Strazza (1818–1875), a sculptor famous in the modern era for his awe-inspiring, goosebump-inducing craftsmanship.
Truly, Italy has produced countless sculptors who seemed to create humanity itself out of mere marble.
Isn't that just amazing?
With that in mind, let me recall something I recently heard at a lecture I attended by chance. The speaker said:
"Exaggerating just a little, Michelangelo accounts for 10% of Italy's national wealth."
Let's take a moment to think about that.
The Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti of the Renaissance—yes, that Michelangelo—attracts enough tourists to carry 10% of Italy's economy, surpassing all those great artists mentioned before.
"This is the power of culture," the speaker said proudly, but to me, it felt like hitting a wall.
I couldn't help but wonder just how incredible Michelangelo must have been to surpass all those other master sculptors—he truly must have been a giant among giants.
– Excerpted from a blog post recording a lecture by Yang Sun-gu, author of Lessons with a Sculptor and a first-generation sculptor.
"I think it's about time I start showing my face overseas," Kang-seok said.
Seol Yeo-jin, who had been holding a lollipop, pulled her finger away from it. Her mouth dropped open in surprise.
The world.
He was talking about going global.
Of course, she had never thought Kang-seok would remain only in Korea forever. But she hadn't expected him to knock on the doors of the international art scene before even becoming an adult.
Had time already passed that quickly?
It felt like just yesterday when she met Kang-seok, then a rising senior in high school—and now, it was already November.
They say time moves faster as you get older. It's true.
Seol Yeo-jin let out a breath, part disbelief, part awe.
In that short moment, the sculptures Kang-seok had created so far flashed through her mind. And the last one she thought of was Radiant Amitabha Buddha (光華如來佛).
She hadn't seen Psyche (Ψυχή) yet—the one that had recently gone viral online and sold out all reservations—but even so, it was clear his work was reaching a massive scale.
'Come to think of it… that Radiant Amitabha Buddha was only temporarily on display at Bongeunsa Temple. Wasn't it going to be long-term loaned to Wat Rong Khun, the White Temple in Thailand?'
Kang-seok was already extending his reach abroad, step by step. Seol Yeo-jin knew she couldn't fall behind. She reminded herself firmly to stay sharp.
'I already predicted that his price would become hard to afford domestically. This moment was bound to come. Not too soon, not too late—just the right time. It's a good thing I found out early.'
She flicked the lollipop stick gently.
A full plan began forming rapidly in her mind.
Seol Yeo-jin was a woman who knew how to draw the big picture.
'Let's think. Until now, Kang-seok hasn't sold his work, only rented them out. That means he knows full well that no matter what price someone offers, his works will be worth even more later. He's deeply attached to his pieces too. The fact that he's willing to lend one long-term to Thailand proves that. So the chance he'll actually sell a piece is extremely low.'
So would he really allow a piece purchased at an overseas art fair?
No.
Yeo-jin quickly reached her conclusion.
While art fairs are technically markets for sales, they also showcase symbolic or not-for-sale works. A significant portion of exhibited pieces are not available for purchase.
That means Kang-seok would likely sell the exhibition rights to a piece, just like he did with Sunset, rather than the piece itself.
Yes, that must be it. Eureka!
Her rose-colored lips curled into a smile, and her eyes gently narrowed in delight.
"That's great to hear. I'm sure your work will resonate internationally."
And she meant it.
The growing Korean art market was in a tense tug-of-war.
People were treating art not as art and value not as value, but as if it were stock trading.
Especially for modern paintings and sculptures—unlike traditional Korean art—the prices set domestically often didn't hold up abroad. That was a clear sign of inflated value.
But in the midst of this devalued and corrupted market, riddled with politics and money laundering, Kang-seok was someone who was steadily building true worth with his talent.
No.
More accurately, it was impossible for someone like Kang-seok not to succeed internationally.
"Thank you for the compliment."
"I meant it. By the way, Kang-seok, are you open to selling Sunset or its accompanying series this time?"
To her question, Kang-seok nodded.
A light nod, as if saying "of course."
"I don't think anyone will offer the price I want."
"Ahh, I see."
Yeo-jin gripped the lollipop stick tighter.
This was the deciding moment.
"Then are you considering renting out the exhibition rights again?"
"Hmm…"
As Kang-seok pondered his answer, Yeo-jin kept a pleasant smile, hiding her tension with all her might, fingers pressing down hard on the stick.
If he said yes…
Then the gallery's end-of-year art fair strategy would be entirely revised. All budgets frozen. Unsold works converted into cash. And all-in on purchasing the rights to Sunset and its sequel at the fair.
That was the blueprint Seol Yeo-jin instantly mapped out in her head.
And it was worth it.
'If Kang-seok shows his face internationally, media coverage will follow. And as interest grows in him, eyes will turn to Korea, where most of his works are. Naturally, more people will visit the locations housing his art.'
She already had Glass Peony in her collection. If she succeeded in acquiring the exhibition rights to Sunset and its series, the gallery would exclusively display three of his works.
No visitor flying in from overseas would visit just one place—but they'd definitely include her gallery on their tour.
Yeo-jin smiled, unable to hide her delight.
Foot traffic means increased purchasing desire. And because no one can actually buy Kang-seok's work, they're more easily guided to purchase other available pieces.
That's how her gallery had been making tremendous profits already—just by exhibiting his work.
'Perfect. Everything's falling into place.'
She straightened her back, silently inviting him to answer at his own pace.
Then it came.
Kang-seok's lips moved.
"I'm thinking of selling the exhibition rights again—but only for a short period. It'll take some time until the art fair, and even when it opens, there'll be a limited exhibition window… so at most, two months? That's probably all I'll offer."
"Two months?"
Only two months?
That was very short.
The minimum term had always been three months. Cutting it down by an entire month was significant. Why?
Just as the thought crossed her mind, he answered.
"By then, I should be ready too."
"Ready?"
Kang-seok nodded with a mysterious smile.
Seol Yeo-jin wanted to ask more, but she didn't want to appear intrusive.
So all she could do was tilt her head, feigning curiosity.
.
.
.
A few days later.
November 9th.
The chill in the air was setting in, and the once-clear sky began to fade.
It was still sunny in the afternoon.
Just a week before the college entrance exam.
Kang-seok, a high school senior, skipped school and visited the Iterum Glass Studio, run by Jo Dong-beom.
"Artist-nim, we've completed the transfer."
He had just been informed that his piece Sunset, as instructed by Seol Yeo-jin and Kim Yun-seo, had been relocated to the Iterum Glass Studio.
Normally, he would've had to be at school, but because students got too excited when he showed up—forgetting the looming entrance exam—the school had given him exceptional leave during the exam period.
Thanks to that, Kang-seok was enjoying a freer, more peaceful end to his senior year—and was able to head to the studio as soon as he heard the news.
Creak.
As he opened the door, heat rushed out.
He had been working in all sorts of places lately—Bloom Museum, Yang Sun-gu's hanok, a studio in Seongbuk-dong, and most recently, an abandoned building in Yongshin Land—but stepping into the glass studio, he was greeted by familiar warmth.
Hot.
While the world was heading toward winter, it felt like summer in here.
He took a few steps forward.
This much heat could only mean the kiln was open and in use. A reminder that Jo Dong-beom, despite calling himself a student, was still a full-fledged glass artisan.
He walked further, spotting Dong-beom at work—his back to a desk piled like a small mountain with raw materials, holding a rod inside the kiln, spinning it.
On top of the desk were piles of colored glass, most likely failed attempts.
'Hmm.'
Just one glance, and Kang-seok could tell what Dong-beom was trying to do.
'He's attempting a reproduction.'
A reproduction.
The act of creating a work modeled after an existing piece.
And his subject? The butterflies—thousands of them—from Kang-seok's Psyche (Ψυχή).
Not a single one completed so far. The road ahead was long and hard.
Because one had to interpret colors the average eye couldn't even see—and make them visible and meaningful for regular viewers.
This required understanding both the mind of a genius and of the average creator.
It was a realm of color only those who saw it both ways could reach.
No wonder it wasn't going well.
Kang-seok scratched his temple.
A bit of a headache.
Should he really interrupt when Dong-beom was this focused?
Maybe he should come back later...
The moment he thought so.
"This isn't it either... damn it."
At the same time as Jodongbeom's gloomy muttering, a screeech echoed through the workshop. The heated glass dropped into the water in one corner. It seemed like a failure.
Jodongbeom quietly stared at the water, then scratched his head. He grabbed his knees with both hands, wiped the sweat again, and stretched out straight.
"Ugh, let's try. Let's try."
Muttering to himself, Jodongbeom turned around.
At the same moment, his previously gloomy face brightened, and his pupils widened.
"Master!"
The title "Master" felt touching all of a sudden.
It was like hearing a title he had heard in a past life after a long time.
Kangseok forced a smile and nodded.
"Boss."
Of course, he couldn't quite call him his disciple yet... but Kangseok took a step forward slowly.
The closer Kangseok got to the workspace, the more awkward Jodongbeom's smile became as he scratched the back of his head—a clear sign of unease.
"Haha, Master. I kept seeing that butterfly so clearly back then, so I tried to work on it... but trying to finish even one cool piece to show just didn't work out. Oh, and
"Butterfly?"
"Yes, among those butterflies, the turquoise one that flies near Psyche's arm when you open the door?"
"Ah, the one mixed with turquoise and pink."
"Yep! That one! I tried to make that, but it didn't work well... from the stage of shaping the colored glass... I mean..."
Jodongbeom babbled on, and Kangseok slowly approached him.
The closer Kangseok got, the more Jodongbeom rambled. Flustered, moving his hands as if doing a puppet show, he couldn't even tell how close Kangseok was. Avoiding Jodongbeom, Kangseok picked up a rod.
He glanced over the materials on the table and then met Jodongbeom's eyes, holding out the rod.
"Try holding this."
"Huh?"
"Hold it."
"Huh? Y-yes... yes!"
Watching Jodongbeom hurriedly grab the rod, preparing to put it in the furnace, Kangseok leisurely reached out his hand.
He held the rod—normally used for shaping glass—like a maestro's conducting baton.
"I'll help you just this once."
Sometimes, you have to take chances like this.
"Huh?"
"Put the rod in the furnace."
"Huh? Ah, yes! Got it...!"
Jodongbeom, flustered, put the rod into the furnace.
At the same time, Kangseok swung the rod he held as if playing an instrument. Like a bow on a string instrument, Kangseok used the rod to poke and prod Jodongbeom's fingers, wrist, forearm, back of hand, and palm, pushing sideways and pulling forward.
Jodongbeom looked at Kangseok with a dazed expression, wondering what on earth this was.
Then it happened.
Kangseok looked at Jodongbeom with a stern, cold face.
"Watch the furnace."
In a rarely cynical tone, Kangseok said, startling Jodongbeom who immediately looked at the furnace. Astonishment spread through Jodongbeom's eyes. There was a new world there.
What kind of sensation was this?
Though he felt no sense of moving his hand, his fingers, back of hand, and forearm moved recklessly as if a potter's wheel was turning. Like stepping on a pottery wheel's pedal, every time Kangseok moved the rod, Jodongbeom's hand moved.
The result of his puppet-like controlled hand was hidden in the fire, invisible, but Jodongbeom felt tears welling up.
His own rough hands were moving delicately like a dancer. At this moment, he was a ballerino; at this moment, he was a brilliant performer.
"Watch how your fingers move. Feel the sensation in your hand. Feel how much force is applied, which muscles are pulling. Feel and see, focus your eyes. Now's not the time to cry. Look straight, got it?"
Kangseok was surprisingly strict.
Even as his polite speech switched to almost shouting, Jodongbeom just nodded.
It was an incredible opportunity.
No one could have been luckier.
Jodongbeom wished this moment would never end and enjoyed the moment when a talent beyond his own was bestowed upon him.
It was a feeling he wanted to be trapped in forever.
But moments don't last forever.
In an instant, he was ordered to take out the rod from the furnace, turn around, bend down, pick something up, sprinkle, stick it on, and follow all sorts of yelling, rushing around.
Everything ended in a flash, as quick as roasting beans in lightning.
"Look."
At the magical last sound, Jodongbeom shuddered.
His eyes, as if entranced, stayed fixed on the table.
Jodongbeom's two palms, prickled and trembling from the pokes, grasped the air as if embracing something.
On the hastily cleared table lay a butterfly. Though a few minor mistakes showed that he hadn't perfectly followed the master's coaching, the color was unmistakably the same turquoise butterfly he had seen then.
How could this be?
Kangseok's talent to complete this using another's hands was terrifying. He had reached a level where he could create his work with others' hands, not just his own.
Is this what happens with deep understanding of the human body?
No.
Jodongbeom slowly shook his head.
No one else could do this.
To be able to serve beside such a person... before despairing at such overwhelming talent, there was only honor. Jodongbeom was someone who could purely admire overwhelming talent.
He looked at the butterfly with eyes free of inferiority.
It was beautiful.
With his nose tingling, Jodongbeom turned to Kangseok.
"Maasteeeer."
The emotion was so deep it seemed tears would fall.
"Not bad at all."
Kangseok casually said, then walked to one corner of the workshop to check whether his work
Jodongbeom wiped his nose roughly with his sleeve and hurried after Kangseok.
"Aren't you hungry?"
"I ate."
"I'll treat you today."
"No thanks."
"I know a fish grill place that's amazing. Their set meals and grilled fish are killer."
"..."
"Really."
"Hmm."
Jodongbeom matched his slower steps to Kangseok's and smiled cheerfully.
It was a peaceful afternoon.
The next day.
Because Kangseok had worked until dawn, he stretched his stiff shoulders as he walked around. He still seemed to hear Jodongbeom's laugh bursting out during work.
Buzz
Suddenly his phone vibrated. Kangseok looked down.
[Master. I love you. Live long and well.]
[Gift Coupon_Apple Set]
The sender was Jodongbeom.
Ha, really.
Kangseok twitched the corner of his mouth.
Sometimes, this isn't so bad.
Thinking that, Kangseok slowly turned off the phone screen and walked along the cool autumn road. His shadow stretched long in the sunlight filtering through the trees.
Early November.
The streets were at the peak of yellow and red autumn leaves.
At the end, a hanok (traditional Korean house) slowly came into view.
It looked somewhat like a temple but was the new residence of the first-generation sculptor and art world titan, Master Yang Seongu, who had prepared it to avoid reporters.
Finding such a beautiful place in the suburbs after just a few months confirmed that Master Yang was indeed one of the wealthiest artists.
Screech
"Seok is here, huh?"
As they say, speak of the tiger and it appears. Master Yang, wearing hanbok and looking like an immortal, appeared at the door of the hanok, stroking his long white beard.
A welcome sight.
"Master."
"I thought I'd die preparing on time."
"Thank you, Master."
"Let's go."
As they walked slowly, the wooden door of the hanok creaked wide open. Inside lay piles of marble.
"Nice."
Smelling the unique scent from the marble dust, Kangseok smiled brightly. He felt like he had returned to where he belonged.
Sunlight burst through and something gently appeared among the piles.
"You said it was a statue to go into the hotel, right?"
"Yes."
It was time to start the second live streaming.