Chihwaseon (Strokes of Fire)
- Year:
- 2002
- 34 Views
Drink!
Starring Choi Min-Sik
Ann Sung-Ki
Yoo Ho-Jung
Kim Yuh-Jin, Son Yeah-Jin
Director of Photography
Jung II Sung
Directed by Im Kwon Taek
Here it is, mounted.
What talent!
as if ghosts were dancing around it.
He seems to paint by the rules,
yet he doesn't.
at the same time.
One stroke is worth ten thousand.
What do rules have to do
with my painting?
Crazy yokel!
How can a bumpkin dauber claim
You'll waste your life believing
in your paltry talent.
In 1882, the Chosun dynasty is ending.
The Koreans are rebelling against
foreign invasions and corrupt government.
The country is in decline. These were
the days of the artist Jang Seung-ub.
We've been expecting you.
Mr. Kaiura is Japanese.
He writes for the Hansung Daily.
I brought him here because he longs
to own one of your paintings.
I admire you.
Your paintings are sublime.
He hears you like good drink.
He brought this from Japan.
It's good.
Thank you for the wine.
But do you really want
to take back a painting
by a vulgar Korean
to the glorious empire of Japan?
Don't be so arrogant!
for such recognition.
Mr. Kaiura genuinely
admires your work.
He knows you're a commoner.
He wonders how you paint so well.
My poor friend!
Genius shows, even in a baby!
Give me that!
Give me that drawing.
You snotnose brat! Get up!
- You there! What are you doing?
- Do you want to die? Filthy brat!
- Do you want to die? Filthy brat!
- I said stop!
He's the beggars' leader.
She's a girl who takes care of me...
like a younger brother.
He never stops hitting her, the beast!
He got her pregnant.
He treats her like dirt.
I did the drawing to comfort her.
He grabbed me.
Father! Seung-ub is running away
with my clothes!
Let him go. The rules of a noble
household are too strict for him
and he must have realized
we can't afford to feed him.
Where are your rolls of paper?
All sold out.
A delivery's due in two days.
We're out of stock.
If you want writing paper,
we have some Chinese.
I'll come back.
Master!
Is it me you're calling?
Aren't you master Kim from Hyoja village?
Don't you recognize me?
Once, by Chungye River,
you saved the life of a beggar boy.
Seung-ub? Is it you?
What brings you to
- I moved out here last summer.
- Seung-ub! Where are you?
Are those your paintings
on the wall?
Yes. I found work with a rotten boss
but I'm glad to have food.
Master, please accept my respects.
This boy is gifted.
His brushwork has such fire.
He may grow up to become
the great artist you longed to be.
Take him as your pupil.
Hold the brush as if
you had an egg in your palm.
Hold it tight with all five fingers.
From fingers to brush, from brush
to paper, your life force will flow.
First, lay out the "bone structure".
Every stroke, structure.
Next, the shading.
Shading brings distance
and gives objects their depth.
Three years later.
Is that you, Seung-ub?
After barely a year he had a stroke.
He was paralyzed.
I kept house and farmed for him.
I've come straight from his funeral.
He left me his flute.
We'll never be stirred
by his playing again. How sad...
The flute was all he left you?
He said every painter has to know
literature. Although he was ill,
he taught me the classics.
Now my eyes can see.
It's been so long.
I'd heard you were back from China.
Sorry I took so long to come.
Thanks to you, it all went well.
I bought this in China.
"The Book of the Measure of Qi".
The author is our own Hye-gang.
He's unknown here in his homeland.
We spurn the thoughts
of such a sage...
while he's admired abroad in China.
Such a pity.
What does he say in this book?
He explains the mysteries
of the flow of Qi,
how it irrigates our five senses
and determines the nation's strength.
They'd censor it.
That will be our country's downfall.
Our ruling class must wake up to the
future. They're asleep. It's disastrous.
with my reform-minded friends.
Introduce yourself.
His name is Jang Seung-ub.
I think he has a god-given talent.
Please take him as your servant.
Show him original artworks
that will open his eyes.
What is it?
The Master's youngest sister.
Her frail health worries the family.
Don't go near her.
She's a good,
sweet-natured woman
but she's always been ill
with an unknown disease.
from the Chinese royal family.
This was painted by Zhao Gan
during the Sung dynasty.
He worked at Nanjing
with Tung Yuan.
This is by Ma He-zhi,
of the Hangzhou school.
On your knees, idler!
Everybody works hard here.
You too!
Fancy yourself as a painter,
you upstart?
- All you want is a full belly.
- Stop it! Let me go!
It's so real, it could tear
through the paper and fly off.
You're hurt.
Your hand, too.
Such a precious hand...
Hail to the groom!
Hail to the bride!
Come here, my boy!
this painting by Chen Jia-yan.
How did you contrive to copy it?
I looked at it once... in secret.
I'm harboring a thief in my home.
Compare the two.
Can you tell which is the original?
He painted it after looking at it once.
Only the seal is missing.
Otherwise, they're identical.
But, even more amazing than
the copying look at that vivacity!
His gifts of observation
and memory are staggering.
There are two birds in the original
but three in the copy.
It looks so lonely and dismal.
Here's a long-lost friend!
Not so long, damn it!
Don't you recognize me?
I heard you were working
for a herbalist
and now you're
in Master Lee's employ.
I've been drifting around
for a while.
- Bring me some wine.
- Who are you?
- She's my daughter. Go to bed.
They say you made a perfect copy
of a Chinese painting...
you'd seen only once.
So you're Jang Seung-ub?
I'm meeting a genius. Delighted.
My name is Oh Cheon-suk.
I'm an art dealer.
I'm buying. Bring him food.
These are copies of erotica.
That's what sells best these days.
Even famous artists like Danwon
and Hyewon have done some.
After all, pornography
is a part of life.
I'll wait until I'm famous, then.
Nonsense! Chinese imitations
are unfashionable.
If you paint what doesn't sell,
who'll pay for your rice and wine?
So why look at them?
- Choon-sim, come in.
- Go away.
His talent is in your hands.
Be good to him!
Why are you trembling?
It seems like your first time.
Let me show you.
Mister, this isn't me.
It doesn't look like me.
I hear that copies of my collection
are circulating. You must be the culprit.
You should be studying till your fingers
bleed. Will you waste your life forever?
This is the Footbridge Art School.
Painters and scholars study here,
so behave yourself.
Master Hyesan,
please accept him as your pupil.
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