Chapter 505: Sezon Museum of Art

September 18th, Wednesday.

Just past six in the evening.

Ikebukuro, Sezon Museum of Art.

This art museum had only moved two years ago from the twelfth floor of the Seibu Department Store Ikebukuro branch into the SMA building on the south side facing Meiji Street, and was currently holding the exhibition "Art and Advertising: The Street Was a Stage — The Century of Creation."

Normal daytime visiting hours had already ended.

The ticket windows at the entrance had turned off their lights early, and the last batch of ordinary visitors had already left.

However, the lights inside the museum had not been turned off accordingly.

Several staff members were rechecking the works and lighting in the exhibition halls, making final preparations for another small-scale appreciation event tonight that was not open to the public.

Not many people had been invited.

Aside from the curators involved in this exhibition, there were also a few collectors, advertising professionals, and cultural figures who were well-acquainted with Tsutsumi Seiji.

Tsutsumi Seiji himself, as the organizer, had not stayed in the exhibition hall upstairs.

In the underground internal parking area of the SMA building, he was standing next to the elevator lobby leading to the art museum, talking with the curator responsible for tonight’s arrangements.

"Have the people from Asahi arrived?"

"Two have already arrived."

The curator lowered his head and glanced at the list in his hand.

"Mr. Igarashi called just now, saying it will take about another ten minutes. Of the four originally invited from the advertising industry, only three have confirmed they will come."

"It doesn’t matter."

Tsutsumi Seiji did not care about the number of people.

"It wasn’t a press conference to begin with. With fewer people, we can actually look at things."

The curator nodded and turned another page.

"The lighting in the second half of the second floor has been readjusted according to what you said this afternoon. Also, for those materials regarding street advertising, we moved the original explanatory plaques a bit further away so that guests can look at them by themselves tonight."

"That’s good."

Tsutsumi Seiji looked up at the floor numbers above the elevator.

"If an exhibition has to make someone read five hundred words first just to know what they should see, then the exhibition itself probably hasn’t been done well."

The curator smiled slightly.

Words like that, coming from someone else’s mouth, would probably just be considered a remark.

But Tsutsumi Seiji was not the kind of boss who only made final decisions and provided money.

From the Seibu Museum of Art to the present Sezon Museum of Art, over the past decade or more, the direction, space, and even promotional methods of many exhibitions all bore, to varying degrees, this man’s own aesthetic.

"Oh, that’s right."

The curator suddenly remembered something.

"That guest you said earlier you would wait for in person..."

He glanced at the list again.

Only a surname was written on it.

Saionji.

"Is it Mr. Saionji Shuichi?"

"No."

Tsutsumi Seiji shook his head.

"His daughter."

The curator’s movement paused for a moment.

"Ms. Saionji Satsuki?"

"Mhm."

"She is also interested in this exhibition?"

Hearing this question, Tsutsumi Seiji let out a chuckle instead.

"She understands far more things than you imagine."

The curator was somewhat surprised.

Currently, Satsuki had gradually been appearing in the public eye.

Finance, corporate acquisitions, Odaiba, and that attack a few months ago that practically shocked all of Japan.

No matter which of these words it was, it was hard for people to associate that eighteen-year-old girl with an art exhibition at first glance.

To have such achievements at this age, shouldn’t she be some financial monster? She even understands art?

Just as he was about to ask another question, a low engine sound suddenly came from the entrance of the parking lot.

The sound was getting closer and closer.

And it was obviously not those large luxury sedans that Tsutsumi Seiji was usually accustomed to hearing.

The two of them looked toward the ramp at the same time.

The first to turn in was a black security vehicle.

Then came another.

Further behind—

An extremely eye-catching red slowly revealed itself from below the ramp.

Looking at that sports car so low it was almost hugging the ground, Tsutsumi Seiji momentarily forgot to continue what he had been saying earlier.

A wide rear wing.

A bright red body.

And the engine sound that appeared exceptionally clear in the underground space.

The curator recognized it first.

"...F40?"

The red sports car had already driven slowly in front of them.

The parking spaces in the parking lot were very wide, but Satsuki did not immediately back in; instead, she drove forward a little more, adjusted the angle, and then steadily reversed the car into the empty space.

The engine shut off.

The car door opened.

The first thing to be revealed was a foot wearing a black low-heeled shoe.

Immediately afterward, supporting herself on the car door, Satsuki climbed out from that somewhat excessively low sports car.

Today she wasn’t wearing any formal suit; her long hair was loosely tied up behind her head.

She only wore a simply tailored dark short jacket, paired with a white shirt inside, and trousers on the lower body.

However, that car was simply too flamboyant.

So much so that when she emerged from the driver’s seat, Tsutsumi Seiji still couldn’t help taking a couple of extra looks.

The petite young girl stood beside the bright red F40, raising her hand to tuck a strand of hair, messed up by the seat just now, back behind her ear.

No matter how one looked at it, she didn’t look at all like the Saionji Satsuki in his impression who sat in the gallery, smilingly discussing supply chains and bank loans with him.

Satsuki closed the car door, and the moment she looked up, she saw him.

"Mr. Seiji?"

She obviously hadn’t expected the other party to come down personally.

"Why are you here?"

"Hearing that you were coming, I just happened to come down to welcome you."

Tsutsumi Seiji walked closer by a few steps, first looking at her, and then looking at the car beside her.

"By the way, to confirm, has the eldest miss of the Saionji Family been swapped out by someone?"

Satsuki was stunned for a moment.

Following his gaze to look at the F40 behind her, she quickly reacted.

"Is it very strange?"

"A little."

Tsutsumi Seiji walked around the front of the car and took a look.

"I used to think you would keep riding in a Toyota Century until you were sixty."

"..."

Satsuki’s mouth twitched slightly.

Whether one should say it or not, this guy and Tsutsumi Yoshiaki were real brothers; how come both of them were like this?

She was only eighteen years old, hey, a prime-of-youth girl hey.

Why did everyone default to thinking she should sit in the back seat of a large black sedan, being driven back and forth by a driver?

"This is my own car, after all."

Satsuki knocked on the hood, specifically emphasizing it.

"And I drove it myself."

"I can tell."

Tsutsumi Seiji smiled.

"It suits you quite well."

Satsuki had already prepared that if he also dared to ask ’is your foot long enough to reach the pedals,’ she would immediately reevaluate whether or not she should still respect artists tonight.

Hearing just this sentence, she was finally a bit more satisfied.

"Mr. Seiji’s vision is indeed better than certain people’s."

"Certain people?"

"It’s nothing."

Satsuki shook her head with a smile.

Tsutsumi Seiji did not pursue the question.

His gaze returned to Satsuki’s face.

After the two of them got closer, Tsutsumi Seiji’s gaze lingered on Satsuki’s face for a moment.

Near the right cheekbone, no obvious scars could be seen anymore; only when the ceiling lights of the parking lot shone over could one still faintly see a slight light-colored trace that had not completely faded.

The smile on his face faded slightly.

"Is your body alright now?"

Following his gaze, Satsuki subconsciously raised her hand to touch the side of her face.

"Mhm, it’s recovered almost completely."

She looked back at Tsutsumi Seiji and slightly bowed.

"Previously, I even troubled Mr. Seiji to specially have someone send over get-well gifts. Thank you for your care."

"At a time like this, don’t stand on ceremony with me."

Tsutsumi Seiji waved his hand.

"When I heard the news, I was indeed startled."

Saying this, he took another careful look at Satsuki.

"Now that I can see you standing here like this with my own eyes, I can finally rest assured."

Hearing this, the smile on Satsuki’s face softened a bit.

"I made you worry."

"The doctor also said during the follow-up checkup a few days ago that the recovery is very good, and after some more time, the injury on your face probably won’t be visible anymore."

"That’s good."

Tsutsumi Seiji nodded.

"You are still young; if you were to really be left with any obvious scars, it would ultimately feel like a pity."

Satsuki blinked.

"Is Mr. Seiji saying that my face is more important?"

"At least more important than that car."

Tsutsumi Seiji glanced at the F40 beside them.

"If a car breaks, you can just buy another one; your face is probably valued at one billion dollars."

Satsuki also looked over, and then couldn’t help laughing.

"If car sellers heard this sentence, they would probably be very sad."

"Then don’t let them hear it."

After saying this, Tsutsumi Seiji revealed a smile again.

"However, seeing that you can still drive this kind of car here yourself, your body shouldn’t have any major problems indeed."

"Thanks to your blessing."

Satsuki nodded lightly.

"Recently, I’ve finally been allowed to be a little freer."

She paused, and then added with a smile:

"Otherwise, today I would probably still have to sit in the back row and let the driver send me over."

"That indeed would be a bit of a pity."

Tsutsumi Seiji looked at the F40 again.

"Since you rarely bought such an eye-catching car, you have to drive it yourself a few times for it to be worthwhile."

"Right?"

Satsuki nodded immediately.

"I feel the same way."

After this sentence was spoken, the heaviness that had briefly appeared between the two of them because of June 27th naturally dissipated.

"Well then, let’s go up."

After saying this, Tsutsumi Seiji slightly turned his body sideways, making way for the direction leading to the elevator lobby.

"Tonight is just a small-scale preview, not many people."

He waited for Satsuki to take the first step before following alongside and continuing forward.

"However, a few old friends have already arrived. Later if someone comes over to greet you, you don’t need to mind it too much, just look around casually."

While speaking, the elevator doors had already slowly opened in front of the two.

...

The elevator traveled all the way up and quickly stopped at the floor where the art museum was located.

After the doors opened, the lights in the exhibition hall came into view accordingly.

Most of the guests who had already arrived were scattered about in twos and threes everywhere.

Some were standing in front of the works talking in low voices, while others were holding wine glasses exchanging pleasantries with people they were familiar with.

Several staff members in charge of tonight’s preview were still busy near the entrance.

Seeing Tsutsumi Seiji bring Satsuki in, they all stopped what they were doing and bowed in greeting.

Tsutsumi Seiji responded to them one by one with a few words.

Further inside, someone had already recognized Satsuki.

Several people who were still conversing quickly looked over toward this side.

Among them, two guests who had past dealings with the Saionji Family proactively approached, first paying respects to Tsutsumi Seiji, and then solemnly greeting Satsuki.

Satsuki only responded with a slight smile and a few words, then continued deeper in with Tsutsumi Seiji.

After truly stepping into the exhibition hall, those surrounding conversations gradually fell behind.

After Satsuki walked in following Tsutsumi Seiji, she quickly discovered that tonight’s things were more interesting than she had anticipated.

This exhibition was not like ordinary exhibitions that arranged a bunch of artworks in sequence.

Inside the entire exhibition, the walls, metal, stone, glass, and even the vacant distances themselves all became a part of the exhibition.

The two of them stopped in front of a white canvas with almost no color whatsoever.

In the center of the canvas were only a few clean and neat cuts.

Satsuki had originally just been walking slowly forward following Tsutsumi Seiji, but seeing this, her footsteps stopped on their own.

She stood in front of the painting and looked for a moment, then moved her position slightly to the side.

"This is Fontana, right?"

Tsutsumi Seiji had originally been ready to continue forward, but hearing these words, he stopped again.

He turned his head to look at Satsuki, a bit of surprise appearing in his expression.

"You have even seen his works?"

"I’ve seen them a few times before."

Satsuki nodded lightly.

"However, the first time I saw them, I didn’t really understand."

Saying this, she laughed to herself first.

"At the time I even thought, if cutting a few slashes on a canvas can also become a work of art, it seemed a bit too easy."

Hearing this, Tsutsumi Seiji also laughed.

"Such words are best not let people who like Fontana hear."

"So haven’t I already changed my view now?"

Satsuki responded with a slight smile.

She looked back at those cuts.

"When looking at them again later, I instead felt that what he really wanted to do probably didn’t have much to do with ’whether it was painted well or not.’"

Tsutsumi Seiji did not interrupt her.

Satsuki then continued:

"No matter how traditional painting styles change, most of them still create space on a flat surface."

"Perspective, light and shadow, distance relationships—when all is said and done, they are all trying to make the person looking at the painting believe that behind the canvas there is another layer of something that doesn’t exist."

She raised her hand, but without getting close to the work, just gently gestured along one of the cuts from an appropriate distance.

"Fontana simply cut open that layer of illusion."

"There was space behind the canvas to begin with."

"So he didn’t even need to paint it out again."

The light only fell on the white surface, yet the interiors of those slits still maintained a very deep darkness.

Satsuki looked there and paused for a moment.

"Looking at it this way, I think he is quite honest."

Tsutsumi Seiji followed her gaze to look at the work again.

"Honest?"

"Mhm."

Satsuki nodded lightly.

"At least he didn’t pretend that he could still invent another more real space on something two-dimensional."

"He was just telling the person looking—"

She paused slightly.

"The real space has always been there."

This time, Tsutsumi Seiji was silent for a bit longer.

Only then did he slightly smile.

"This viewpoint is quite novel; I’ve never heard anyone put it this way before."

"Then what does Mr. Seiji think?"

Satsuki turned her head.

This time it was Tsutsumi Seiji’s turn to look at the painting.

"When I first saw Fontana, I didn’t feel like he was slacking off."

He spoke very slowly.

"I just felt that this person was very arrogant."

A bit of interest immediately grew in Satsuki’s eyes.

"Arrogant?"

"Painting used several hundred years trying every possible way to create another world within a flat surface."

"As a result, he took a knife and negated this matter itself."

Tsutsumi Seiji smiled.

"Isn’t this very arrogant?"

Hearing this, Satsuki also couldn’t help laughing.

"Put that way, indeed there is a bit of it."

"However, if an artist wasn’t arrogant at all, they probably couldn’t do this kind of thing."

"I agree with this point."

Neither of them continued speaking for a moment.

Satsuki took a small step backward again.

After the distance widened, those cuts looked even more obvious.

She watched for a while, then suddenly said:

"Moreover, putting this kind of work in an art museum is more interesting than hanging it alone at home."

Tsutsumi Seiji turned his head sideways.

"How so?"

"Because I will notice the surroundings."

Satsuki didn’t answer immediately, instead glancing at both sides of the canvas first.

"The distance of the wall, the direction the lights shine from, and where I am standing."

"Even whether there are other works nearby will all affect what it looks like."

She looked back at those black gaps.

"If it were just bought home to hang in the living room, I would probably get used to it after seeing it a few times."

"But placed here, I instead can’t help standing around a bit longer."

Hearing this, the smile on Tsutsumi Seiji’s face noticeably deepened a bit.

"If those people who only think about hanging famous paintings in their living rooms heard this sentence, you’d probably offend quite a few people again."

Satsuki blinked.

"Mr. Seiji is also a collector."

"So?"

"So I’ve already spoken very politely."

Tsutsumi Seiji was stunned for a moment, and then finally laughed out loud.

"So you were still taking care of my face."

"Of course."

Satsuki nodded solemnly.

"Since Mr. Seiji kindly invited me to see such a wonderful exhibition, it wouldn’t do to offend the host right after walking in, right?"

"You haven’t offended me little in the past."

"Those were all business matters."

Satsuki said with a smile.

"When looking at artworks, I still respect Mr. Seiji very much."

Tsutsumi Seiji glanced at her.

"Only when looking at artworks?"

Satsuki just smiled, turning back around to look at the painting in front of her.

Watching her, Tsutsumi Seiji also began to smile.

The atmosphere between the two of them seemed to have thoroughly relaxed along with this joke.