I Was Michelangelo in My Past Life

When Michelangelo was six years old, his biological mother passed away.

From then on, Michelangelo had to be raised under the care of the stonecutter's wife, who acted as his wet nurse.

Thanks to that, Michelangelo began lifting a hammer around the age of six, and was so captivated by it that he bore the artistic mission on his shoulders for his entire life.

All his life — even three days before his death, Michelangelo still lifted a hammer.

No one, before or after him, would dare to speak of marble in front of him.

Excerpted from the book [Classes with the Sculptor] written by Yang Seon-gu, mentor of Jeong Byeong-kwon -

"Do you know how to work with marble?"

Jeong Byeong-kwon's gaze was fixed on the artificial turf floor. Shadows were deep, making it dark. When Jeong raised his eyes, everything ahead was pure white — marble.

"— Ma-marble? Suddenly, why marble?"

Was it a misunderstanding? Jeong blinked. Somehow, it felt like Kang Seok's voice was trembling over the phone. Was something wrong? Just then, a hurried voice came through the phone.

"— Teacher?"

At least that's how Jeong Byeong-kwon felt.

"No, well, somehow I ended up getting a pretty big piece of marble… haha, it's just too big, you see."

Jeong averted his gaze as he spoke. The large piece of marble filled his view completely. In the distance, the bench in front of the sports field came into view. Jeong was standing on the school playground.

The marble was handed over to him after some drinks at Yang Seon-gu teacher's book launch party. It had been three days since this troublemaker marble arrived at the school.

"Teacher Jeong, the school reopens tomorrow, but having this huge marble right on the school playground doesn't look good at all."

"I truly apologize."

"I'm not complaining. It's not like I don't know Yang Seon-gu teacher. Since I'm principal, I guess you got stuck with it because of him. Still, such an annoying guy."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing. But if possible, could you please move it within a week?"

"Ah, yes. Of course."

"Good. It must be hard to move at your own expense, so if you need help, just say."

That was yesterday afternoon. The principal, while inspecting the school before reopening, notified Jeong Byeong-kwon:

If you don't remove it within a week, there will be serious trouble.

Jeong shook his head recalling that kind yet deadly smile.

No matter how you look at it, this was a hundred percent Yang Seon-gu's fault. When did he retire and start using the school like his own living room? Jeong swallowed his sigh and stared at the marble.

A marble block taking up part of the playground? It was way too much trouble. Jeong scratched his head.

"I don't even have a separate studio outside of school… it's difficult to keep holding onto this."

Carving marble takes a tremendous amount of time. For a block this large, even with modern machines speeding up the process, it would take at least a year or two.

'And I can't just leave it here working for that long.'

That was why Jeong was at school even on holidays like the March 1st Movement Day, reaching out for help. Jeong, not having a broad network, was rejected nine times before even contacting Kang Seok.

"— How big is it?"

"Nineteen feet by twelve feet?"

He recited the size as Yang Seon-gu had described. Considering one foot is about 30.48 cm, this was no ordinary size. It was nearly six meters tall.

Wasn't Michelangelo's David about 17 feet by 6.5 feet? And that statue weighed over six tons. Thinking about that, this marble boasted a ridiculously massive size and weight.

'How on earth did Yang Seon-gu bring such a huge piece from Carrara Mountain to Korea?'

He was known as a genius. But considering the usual size of marble blocks quarried at Carrara nowadays is about 2 meters high, 4 meters wide, and 3 meters thick, it was a mystery how this size was even allowed to be cut.

"— It's really big."

"Right? Haha… so I can't just leave it here. I thought of transferring it to someone, and then I remembered you did that glass flower 3D sculpture."

This wasn't just a random suggestion. The glass flower work was truly impressive.

Sculpting depends largely on how well you understand three-dimensional form.

Though it differs microscopically from subtractive sculpture, shaping glass also requires deep 3D understanding.

So, if you had the ability to shape glass so realistically, handling marble wouldn't be that difficult either. Marble carving basically just needs hammer and chisel.

Of course, that wasn't the only reason he wanted to pass it on.

"You also have the graduation exhibition coming up, right?"

The graduation exhibition was just around the corner.

The Cheonghwa Art High School exhibition is usually held in good weather in autumn with plenty of time, but that was only for freshmen and sophomores.

Seniors put all their effort into grades and entrance exams in the first semester and then must prepare both practical exams and the CSAT from the second semester. So, there was no time for an exhibition in the second semester, and even if held, it wasn't effective.

Therefore, the exhibition was moved up to the first semester of the third year, combined with compiling school records.

No art is cheap to produce, but sculpture especially gets exponentially expensive as the size increases. And from what Jeong saw of Kang Seok's recent work, he seemed to prefer large-scale pieces.

From the 800-size canvas and group sketches to the glass flowers filling entire walls, it was clear.

If that's the case again, the materials will cost a lot. That's why Jeong was reaching out.

"So… if you know how to handle marble, why not work with marble?"

Large, high-quality natural marble isn't easy to come by.

Especially the marble right in front of them was from Carrara Mountain — the same source Michelangelo used. Having experience with that before entering college would definitely make major classes easier. It would be great experience.

'If you say you don't know how to handle marble, maybe I should teach you?'

Jeong nodded to himself, feeling this was doable. Then—

"— Have you already cut it?"

Kang Seok's question came through the phone. Jeong instinctively shook his head.

"No? Not yet."

Before calling Kang Seok, Jeong had tried nine times and been rejected all nine times. A total failure. How desperate must he have been to call his third-year high school student on March 1st?

Jeong didn't want to say Kang Seok had no friends, so he swallowed the words.

"Isn't a single block too big? Should I cut it and call you again?"

If he tried carving it as is, Kang Seok would be finished with high school. Cutting seemed the right choice. Jeong nodded and spoke again.

"— That's a relief."

But Kang Seok was faster.

"— Then how about you give me the whole block without cutting? I'll pay."

That huge thing? Jeong raised his head. Everything was pure white. Giving it away was fine, but where would he use all that?

Jeong stared at the marble, dumbfounded.

A gulp.

A dark orange street lamp lit the workshop at night.

Jo Dong-beom swallowed his breath.

He circled the model, looked down again, squatted, and looked up cautiously — he seemed extremely careful.

After repeating several times in silence, Jo slowly placed his hands on his knees and stood up, some time later.

A brief moment of regret at the cracking sound in his joints. Then Jo turned around.

He saw Kang Seok sleeping with anatomy reference materials covering his face and arms crossed. Jo approached carefully, reluctant to wake him.

"...S-sensei."

When called gently, Kang Seok lowered the materials and looked at Jo with bloodshot eyes. Having worked all through the March 1st holiday, even this iron man showed signs of fatigue.

"Is it all dry?"

Kang Seok grabbed the grape soda on the desk and slowly stood up. He ignored the creaks of his muscles as he stretched roughly and moved.

Whirring. Fans ran everywhere in the workshop.

They were to dry the painted models.

Gulp gulp. Kang Seok poured the drink down his dry throat, put on latex gloves from his pocket, and moved toward the fans — specifically toward the red things scattered over them.

Jo Dongbeom and Kang Seok's gazes simultaneously returned to the desk.

Their entire field of vision was covered in red and white.

Red, white, red, white, red.

Starting from the heart that seemed like it could flutter at any moment, the bloodshot eyeballs, blood vessels, brain, internal organs, bones, bundles of nerves — all of them looked real, but they were fake. Jo Dongbeom, who was looking down at the desk alongside Kang Seok, involuntarily glanced toward the entrance.

Even though both the door and windows were carefully closed, his heart trembled for no reason.

Kang Seok casually pulled on latex gloves and picked up an eyeball. Slowly, he rolled it around, then nodded.

"They're all dried out."

"...Yes. Yes. All dried out."

"Good. Then we just need to assemble now."

206 bones, five internal organs named liver, heart, spleen, lungs, and kidneys. Six organs named colon, small intestine, gallbladder, stomach, triple burner, and bladder.

One brain and two eyeballs.

One tongue and 28 teeth.

Blood vessels long enough to circle the Earth once, and 640 muscles.

Kang Seok exhaled as he looked at the models filling the wide desk.

"Let's begin."

It was the day Marktub No. 1 was born.

[The principal said he might be able to move it by tomorrow.]

The next day.

While attending the entrance ceremony, Kang Seok looked down at his phone, his eyes heavy with fatigue.

It was from teacher Jeong Byeong-gwon.

The message was from Jeong Byeong-gwon.

Since the marble was at the school yard, maybe the principal was helping. Kang Seok tilted his head, puzzled, then moved his fingers roughly.

[Yes. Thank you.]

By the way, I didn't expect them not to charge for it. It seemed like they felt quite guilty from the parent counseling back then... Kang Seok tapped his phone with a helpless expression. The contact name [Teacher Jeong Byeong-gwon] caught his eye.

— In 1974, the historic year when the world population exceeded 4 billion, Park Eun-su, the founding chairman of the San Kang Group, was convinced that culture and art would become the world's cradle of new beginnings. So, on the first snowy day, he personally visited the chief monk of Bongeunsa Temple.

The principal's speech echoed through the microphone in the auditorium. It had been 16 minutes already.

— According to the autobiography of chairman Park Eun-su, published after his death, the chief monk seemed to have been waiting for this moment. He wrote the characters for '청 (pure/blue)' and '화 (flower/splendor)' and handed it over. Because the temple Bongeunsa has a thousand-year history, chairman Park donated a building and received the name. What happened next?

The first-year students, suddenly bombarded with a lecture, looked at each other in confusion.

— ...Despite objections, chairman Park Eun-su began the school's construction...

Since the first-years were sitting on the first floor, they couldn't sneakily use their phones like the second and third years upstairs. Kang Seok thought those first-years looked pitiful.

"Seriously, it's ridiculously long."

"Isn't it always like this?"

"Don't know. Where's the face-to-face meeting for each department? Do you know who booked the auditorium?"

"The dance department probably. Their entrance exam went great this year. Seven male seniors passed Korea National University of Arts alone. Can you believe that? Including female seniors, it's over double digits. There are only like forty students though… They really only test dance skills. Ah... I should've done dance too."

"What's the acceptance rate? That's crazy… Wait a second. Didn't the dance department have only like 9 or 10 males last year? So 7 out of 9 got in?"

"Yeah, that's what I heard. Anyway, I feel bad for first-years. Look how miserable they are now. So cute."

"Cute? ...Well, yeah, they do look pitiful. Should we give them snacks during the ceremony?"

Kang Seok wondered if the principal deliberately takes all the blame every year to help maintain good relationships between seniors and juniors.

— ...So finally, in 1980, the school succeeded in establishing Cheonghwa Arts High School in the heart of Seoul. Amazing, right? Applause?

The first-years clapped, hoping it was over.

The applause echoed loudly. But the second and third years looked indifferent.

The highlight was still coming.

"Did you see that rock behind the auditorium?"

"Yeah. What's that?"

"Don't know. Maybe construction?"

"Maybe?"

Kang Seok's eyes twitched as he stared ahead. Rock. Rock, huh? It seemed these days no one thought of sculptures when they saw huge marble blocks.

No one knew when marble's prestige had died like that.

— The Cheonghwa Foundation, backed by Park Eun-su, a titan of Korea's business world, was aggressively recruiting talent, providing scholarships, endlessly developing school facilities, and within only 20 years, joined Korea's prestigious high schools.

Bang. The principal slammed the microphone stand with his palm and shouted.

— Now, where is our Cheonghwa Arts High School located? We, despite the beautiful name 'Cheonghwa (splendid blossom)', have a fierce history like a wild beast, holding the title of Korea's top arts high school and standing at the summit!

As the principal's passionate speech continued to hammer at the first-years, Kang Seok thought that if this happened at every event, their enthusiasm would eventually cool off.

— We will never come down from this peak! Let's all shout together! Cheonghwa Arts!

The children opened their mouths.

"Cheonghwa Arts!"

"Cheonghwa Arts!"

"Cheonghwa Arts!"

The highlight of the entrance ceremony: the singing of the school anthem.

.

.

.

"From now, move to the meeting place! Be careful not to get into any accidents!"

The PE teacher's voice echoed through the auditorium. The kids chatted excitedly as they moved forward. Kang Seok was about to stand slowly.

"Hey."

An annoyingly familiar voice called from behind. Kang Seok turned his head. It was Kim Dong-hwi. His cheekbones were raised all the way to his eyes as he walked forward.

Kang Seok's gaze shifted to Kim Dong-hwi. Now that he looked, all the art students sitting above were staring at him. The mixed-grade students all wore wary expressions.

Their faces resembled herbivores meeting a new predator.

"Are you for real?"

Kim Dong-hwi's cheek twitched, looking like a kid angry at having his toy taken.

"You're joining Professor Park Ji-yeop's project, right? Is that true?"

So that was what he wanted to say. Kang Seok involuntarily twitched his mouth. Come to think of it, Kim Dong-hwi wanted to enter Hanyang University of Arts.

Kang Seok scratched his nose. Everyone was staring at him. Some had met teacher Ko Doo-han's solo exhibition, some were silently mouthing human figure sketches, others whispered about glass peonies.

All things Kang Seok had done over the vacation.

It had all spread around. Kang Seok nodded, finally understanding. When someone reaches the top, others inevitably have to take a step back.

Looking up at the students seated above, Kang Seok said,

"Yeah."

The corners of Kang Seok's mouth formed a smooth arc.

It was a new semester.