Return of the Genius Photographer

Woojin was reading a column.

[ A Hidden Painter’s Work Shines Bright! ]

[ The works of Dunphy, a painter who runs a humble pigment shop in a hidden alley in Manhattan, New York, have been featured in the latest Sotheby’s auction. ]

[ His oil paintings, created using nearly extinct pigments, and his unique artistic style have ignited the desires of numerous collectors. ]

[ The pieces he created over his lifetime have become the stars of the auction, fetching impressive prices. ]

[ In particular, Dunphy’s self-portrait, considered his masterpiece, was sold for $100,000… ]

―Scroll, scroll.

[ Meanwhile, the influence of Kai, who first discovered the value of these works and saved them from obscurity, has also been highlighted… ]

‘I’m glad. Old man, you’ve done well.’

I smiled warmly as I read the column featured on the main page of an online New York art daily.

It had been a month since I photographed the pigment shop.

I had already heard that the magazine featuring the shop’s photo on the cover had become quite a topic of discussion.

But I hadn’t known what had happened to the old man since then…

It seemed things had turned out even better than expected.

The story of the old man, as told in the column, was heartwarming news.

As a photographer, I would occasionally encounter moments like this.

From the simple grandeur of hidden natural landscapes.

To the intense scenes of firefighters bravely saving lives.

Or the quiet dedication of sanitation workers cleaning the streets in the early morning.

The tired faces of soldiers guarding the border through the night.

A photographer’s job is to capture what others overlook, to rediscover forgotten truths.

And to bring attention to the hidden value of things that have been ignored.

When people recognized the value discovered through my photos, it was incredibly rewarding.

It made me feel proud, like I had made the right choice in pursuing this career.

While it was true that my photos brought attention to the old man’s shop.

I believed the outcome was possible because his paintings held genuine value.

So, I sincerely hoped his shop would continue to thrive.

‘By the way, it’s application season now.’

I glanced at the calendar I had open online and thought to myself.

While handling the commissions from Oswald, the application period had crept up on me.

I thought I had more time, but it seemed time flew.

Still, it was a relief.

I had been working on my application bit by bit.

All that was left was to organize my photos and submit my portfolio.

I rummaged through my gallery, reviewing the photos I had taken over the year, and fell into deep thought.

‘Which photos should I include in my portfolio…?’

It wasn’t a difficult task, something I could finish quickly if I put my mind to it.

But with all the photos laid out in front of me, I found myself hesitating.

There were so many photos I wanted to showcase, and I was torn about which ones to choose.

To an ordinary applicant, it might have seemed like I was showing off…

But if someone were to see the photo album I was looking at now, they wouldn’t be able to say a word.

They’d think the sheer volume of work I’d produced in just over a year was unbelievable.

Countless commissions, personal projects, and photos taken during travels with my mentors.

As I flipped through the densely packed photo album, I continued to ponder.

‘In situations like this, it’s best to think about the theme first.’

A portfolio isn’t just a simple photo album.

Any portfolio, ultimately, is a collection of photos with a specific purpose or intent.

So, when selecting photos, the first thing to consider is what one wants to convey through the portfolio.

‘The theme should definitely be about me.’

And that was easier to decide than choosing the photos themselves.

What kind of photographer was me?

In the end, what I needed to show the professors through my portfolio was what kind of talent I possessed as a photographer.

How I had approached photography so far.

What kind of photos I was passionate about, and what I wanted to capture.

For a photographer, a single photo can reveal more about them than hundreds or thousands of words.

In my past life, I was primarily a documentary and landscape photographer.

So, my strongest genre was travel photography.

But in this life, I had been working without being confined to any particular genre.

Looking back, I had dabbled in almost every genre, from commercial photography like fashion shoots to documentaries, art, and portraits.

Having been given a second chance after a life full of twists and turns, I didn’t want to set limits like I did in my past life.

I had the ambition to excel in all types of photography.

And I believed that thinking this way would be beneficial for me in the long run.

‘That’s why I’ve developed this hunger for learning…’

The desire to improve.

The desire to master every genre of photography.

That mindset had shaped who I was today.

So…

What I needed to showcase this time was the journey I had walked.

With that conclusion in mind, I began quickly selecting photos.

Flipping through the photo album, one by one.

Photos that had a significant impact on me in this second life.

From the photo of the old man protecting the redevelopment zone.

To the mosaic photo I created for Jung Woong.

The peaceful scenes I captured in Australia.

The photos I submitted for the rookie photographer exhibition.

And finally, the photos from my time in Arles.

Just by selecting the photos, my portfolio was already overflowing.

I gathered the photos, arranged them in order, added brief descriptions, and completed the portfolio.

Theme: The Path I’ve Walked

Genre: No boundaries

Preferred fields: All of them

“Well, maybe I’ll take a break until the results come out?”

After submitting the portfolio, I closed my laptop.

I decided to take a walk down memory lane for the first time in a while.

I grabbed my Polaroid camera, which felt like a toy, and headed out.

All that was left now was to wait.

***

The walls of the conference room at Yale University’s prestigious photography department were adorned with photos of its outstanding alumni.

Lynn Long, who won a Pulitzer Prize for capturing the horrors of the Vietnam War.

Paul Cook, whose work laid the foundation for modern photography.

Alice Gruber, the head of one of America’s top graphic design studios.

Barbara Cheng, who expanded the horizons of art by blending it with photography. And many more.

Just the number of famous faces on the wall alone was staggering.

Considering that most of these individuals wielded significant influence in the photography industry today.

The name value of a Yale photography graduate was immense.

That’s why, every year during the application period, the conference room was filled with documents from countless applicants.

And during this time, the professors tasked with selecting the candidates were particularly on edge.

The professors were flipping through the applicants’ portfolios with serious expressions.

―Flip, flip.

The quiet sound of papers being turned filled the room as applicants were quickly screened.

“This applicant has an impressive list of awards, but the portfolio is underwhelming. The photos are too excessive, filled with unnecessary elements. It makes me doubt the credibility of those awards.”

“Typical mistake of someone who just picked up a camera. They think more is better.”

“Exactly.”

“This one is the opposite. No awards at all, but the portfolio is so high-quality that it makes me question if it’s really their work.”

“Ah, we had that issue last year, didn’t we?”

“Yes. We admitted someone because their portfolio was outstanding, only to find out they had purchased the photos from another photographer.”

“Unbelievable…”

“Since then, I’ve been suspicious of applicants like this.”

The portfolios of the applicants piled up on the floor.

All of them rejected.

The portfolios of the accepted applicants were placed on the table, but they were few and far between.

As most were filtered out, the once towering stack of documents was now dwindling.

Then, it happened.

“Draco Malcolm. This one’s good.”

“Right, I just looked at it too. Impressive.”

“The portfolio is solid, and the background is clean.”

The professors’ voices brightened as they finally found an applicant they liked.

“Wow…”

One professor, flipping through Malcolm’s portfolio, let out an impressed sigh.

Malcolm had captured the image of a man.

The first photo showed the fragile back of a man.

At his feet were gold bars, symbolizing wealth, but he turned his back on them, staring into an empty void ahead.

The following photos were similar.

The man, his face deliberately obscured or cut off, walked resolutely toward a thorny path.

Despite the obstacles and endless pain, he pressed forward.

And at the end, someone was waiting for him.

The theme was aspiration.

What was Malcolm aspiring to, to take such photos?

It was a thought-provoking and outstanding series.

“Anna April. This applicant is also remarkable.”

Another professor exclaimed after reviewing a different portfolio.

“Hmm… This portfolio exudes a strong sense of self-esteem.”

April’s theme was pride.

A woman sitting in a large chair, with everyone kneeling at her feet.

Her bold, ambitious pose, almost provocative, captivated the professors’ attention.

19 years old.

At most, they had only held a camera for less than five years…

Yet, their potential was evident, with photos that could hold their own against established, renowned photographers.

This was because their artistic vision was already so firmly established.

Typically, a photographer’s philosophy takes years to develop.

But if their vision is already this solid, it means their understanding of photography and themselves is exceptional.

Students like this absorb knowledge like a sponge and quickly make it their own.

In other words, they’re students overflowing with potential.

“Two already… This year’s batch is a bumper crop.”

A professor smiled contentedly after finding two promising applicants in a row.

It was a harsh reality for applicants, but even among the talented individuals who applied to Yale, those who truly stood out were exceedingly rare.

Usually, there was only one standout, or sometimes none at all.

At most, two.

Most students struggled just to keep up with the school’s curriculum, and even after graduating, they remained average.

Of course, as Yale graduates, they wouldn’t be overshadowed anywhere else…

But ultimately, only one or two would achieve world-changing success.

These were the ones who, at Yale, would clash with each other’s talents and grow their potential without restraint.

For educators, just imagining it was thrilling.

“This year’s scholarship recipients will likely be chosen from these two.”

“There are still applicants left, but I doubt there’s anyone more outstanding than these two.”

“I agree.”

Yale’s scholarship recipients were typically decided upon admission.

This was partly to save the busy professors’ time.

But also because the application and portfolio alone were enough to distinguish the exceptional from the ordinary.

To the professors, these two were the gems among this year’s applicants.

The professors, pleased with their findings, glanced toward the head of the table.

Unfazed by the excitement of the other professors.

One professor remained serious, silently flipping through the applicants’ cover letters (personal statements).

“Professor Ryan, what do you think?”

He was Professor Ryan.

Yale University, known for its exceptional faculty as much as its talented students.

Professor Ryan was considered the best among them.

While it was often said that the qualities of a working photographer and an educator were distinctly different.

That didn’t apply to Professor Ryan.

He was still an active photographer, his creative senses as sharp as ever.

And as an educator, he was so outstanding that students constantly sought his guidance.

Even non-majors flocked to his lectures, filling the auditorium to capacity.

Respected and admired by his peers, he was a diligent figure who participated in the admissions review every year.

While other professors sometimes avoided the tedious task.

Professor Ryan believed that discovering raw talent was the duty of an educator.

For the photography industry to grow steadily, it needed a steady stream of talented photographers.

As an educator and someone who loved the photography industry, there was nothing more important.

After quietly reviewing Malcolm’s portfolio, Professor Ryan spoke up.

“This student seems highly likely to be this year’s admitted candidate.”

Then he added.

“Though it’s a bit disappointing.”

The professors, who had been praising Malcolm, laughed awkwardly.

“Haha… I expected you’d think that way.”

“Is there any student who could satisfy Professor Ryan?”

“Hahaha, I’m curious too.”

As expected, satisfying Professor Ryan was no easy feat.

A man who wasn’t easily impressed by even the most accomplished photographers—how could fresh-faced college students possibly meet his standards?

But then, something unusual caught Professor Ryan’s eye.

“Hmm?”

At first, he thought it was a stack of multiple applicants’ documents.

But upon closer inspection, it was all the work of a single individual.

The sheer volume of achievements in the documents was easily three times that of any other applicant.

‘What is this? These credentials…’

Professor Ryan’s eyes began to gleam with interest.

Flip, flip—

Professor Ryan slowly turned the pages of the portfolio.

The first photo was of an elderly man in what appeared to be a slum.

—The old man is on the verge of losing his home to the tides of change brought by capitalism.

—The new era sweeps over his land like a wave.

—But he fights, determined to spend the rest of his days on the ground he calls home.

The next photo was of a face that looked oddly familiar.

—This man has spent his entire life photographing others.

—So much so that he had forgotten his own face.

—Only after seeing so many photos of others could he finally confront his own reflection.

Then came a woman in traditional clothing, her face streaked with tears…

—You left me, but I never let you go.

—If the end of love is separation, then at the end of that separation, I still long for you.

—Forever.

Before he knew it, Professor Ryan had forgotten about the evaluation and became engrossed in the photos.

Each one was imbued with a profound philosophy of life.

It was as if a seasoned master had poured their thoughts into every frame.

And at the very end…

—A photographer burns even themselves to capture the perfect shot.

“T-This!”

For the first time, Professor Ryan’s stoic expression faltered.

It was only after seeing the last photo that he realized who the portfolio belonged to.

‘Ah… So it’s him…’

The young photographer who had burst onto the scene like a comet, winning the grand prize in Arles.

He had heard the photographer was young, but to think he was applying to university…

For a moment, Professor Ryan looked puzzled.

‘With a career like this, and already recognized for his talent, why is he applying to university?’

In a way, Professor Ryan’s confusion was understandable.

With Kai’s credentials, he could easily be invited to give lectures at universities—his achievements were that impressive.

If he was voluntarily applying for admission, the school would welcome him with open arms.

Just then, another professor noticed Professor Ryan’s expression and asked.

“What’s wrong?”

The professor glanced at the portfolio Professor Ryan was holding and continued.

“Oh? Isn’t that the photo from the artist who won the grand prize in Arles? How audacious. To plagiarize…”

The professor’s face twisted in displeasure.

“No.”

But Professor Ryan smiled and replied.

“It’s the artist himself.”

“Himself?”

The professor asked again, unable to believe it.

“Then, could it be…?”

“Kai.”

As he said the name, every professor in the conference room turned to look at Professor Ryan.

After a brief pause, Professor Ryan added with a delighted expression.

“Surprisingly, the sensational newcomer ‘Kai’ has sent his cover letter to Yale.”

The room went so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

A disruptor had appeared.

One that could turn Yale’s photography department upside down.

**********

T/N: Entry enough?