insadong 2017
While this story is based on true events, please note that all locations and characters have been reconstructed for the narrative and are works of fiction.
I deeply miss my mother, who used to tell me stories of her childhood while lost in old memories. I dedicate this work to her.
Daniel von Klitzing, who has operated a successful business in Germany for over 20 years, is the son of a Korean mother and a German entrepreneur. Having inherited his father’s chemical business, he grew it into one of the most prominent chemical companies in Germany.
Approaching his fifties, Daniel possesses both the demeanor of a classic German gentleman and the grace of a middle-aged Korean man. His striking, exotic elegance and features would catch the eye of anyone, regardless of their culture or race.
Every March, when spring arrives in Korea, Daniel always visits Insadong in Seoul. It is a place where he can immerse himself in memories of his mother, a sculptor, by visiting the galleries they used to frequent together when he was a child. His reason for these spring trips to Korea is to wander through the crowds, revisiting the small galleries where his mother once exhibited her work, and purchasing the art on display one by one.
It has been nearly 40 years since his mother passed away. When Daniel was only seven years old, she left this world after a battle with leukemia. His memories of Korea are limited to the beautiful faces of the girls his mother sculpted and the walks they took together through Insadong.
His father, Hans, later married a young Spanish woman and had two more children. However, Daniel shares no Korean memories with his younger siblings. His only connection to Korea remains this annual spring walk through Insadong—buying the works of nameless artists as if searching for his mother’s soul.
This year, too, Daniel wandered through the alleys of Insadong, admiring the art like a child lost and searching for his mother. With every step, he tried to feel the warmth of her hand in his, reaching for the very last threads of his fading memories. Because they were so old, he sometimes couldn't tell if these were real memories or feelings his mind had simply conjured over time.
"Mutti, ich habe Hunger." (Mom, I'm hungry.) "Daniel, are you hungry again? Shall Mommy buy you a Hotteok?"
A memory of his mother handing him a warm Hotteok (a sweet Korean griddlecake) flashed through his mind. Street vendors in Insadong were busy preparing and displaying food. Daniel stopped at a stall selling Hotteok. He always eats one when he comes here, wanting to feel his mother’s touch again. In those moments, he feels as if he has met her once more. Walking with the warm cake in his hand feels like holding her hand.
After finishing it, he took a cloth handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his hands and mouth. Even at nearly fifty, Daniel remained a European gentleman who always carried a cloth handkerchief. His father, the eldest son of an aristocratic family in Heidelberg, was a conservative man who clung to European traditions, and these habits had subconsciously become a part of Daniel. When his father fell in love with his Korean mother, he had to turn his back on his family for a time, starting their life together in a tiny one-room apartment. It was only after his mother died that Daniel was allowed to reconnect with his father's side of the family.
Memories drifted through his mind, as numerous as the countless signs lining the streets of Insadong. Then, a particular exhibition plaque caught his eye:
"The Hidden Paintings"
The title was so unusual that Daniel found himself drawn into the gallery. Though the entrance was small, the space inside was vast. Suddenly, he felt a strange, breathless vertigo. The brilliant abstract paintings filling the room seemed to shatter his very perception of time and space.
Just then, a young woman who appeared to be a curator approached him.
"Hi, welcome to our 'Hidden Paintings' abstract exhibition."
As Daniel looked at the curator’s face, he nearly collapsed on the spot.
"Mutti..."