The Painter of the Wind

Source: javabeans

Take two: Painter of the Wind, Episode 1
October 3rd, 2008 // by heejae

[In addition to Dahee's recaps, reader heejae volunteered to share her initial thoughts on the drama Painter of the Wind, and I figure the more (opinions) the merrier. For another perspective and some more detailed thoughts on the drama, please take a look at what heejae has to say. Thanks! -javabeans]



This series got off to a great start. Subtleties are a big part of this series, and so is showing-not-telling; the audience is left to infer about many things often. I may talk about it in this re-cap as though it were the next coming of television or whatnot, but I don’t intend to make those kinds of statements ^^;

In this commentary I will:

* Give commentaries/insights about this episode.
* List pro’s and con’s for anyone who might be iffy as to whether or not they’re up to watching this series.
* …as well as opinions/possible gushing *laughs*



Part 1: Bitter Beginnings, Bitter Endings

The episode opens with Park Shin Yang dressed in yellow robes, walking up a mountain. The mountain is very scenic and beautiful, contrasting the sad music that’s being played in the background.

Park’s voice-over tells us:

“Now, I’m going to talk about one person…I am, right now, joyful and yet sorrowful at the same time. To see that person [her] I’m happy, but to lose that person [her] I’m sorrowful. That person was my student, my mentor, my friend, and… my beloved.”

(I can practically hear the gurgling of many, many fans already at the word beloved *laughs*)

Park walks into a hut, and we finally learn what his destination is; it’s where Moon Geun Yung used to paint. He sees a painting that she did (a self-portrait if I’m not mistaken) and he begins to cry bitterly over it.

The execution and cinematography here is subtle, really beautiful, and I really liked it. Park is basically explaining how their (his and Moon Geun Yung’s) relationship will bloom, and this sets the drama apart from many-a-sageuk plot that we’ve all seen before. The young king is born, he faces challenges in childhood (a.k.a. one of his father/predecessor’s wives trying to throw him off the track of being next in line for the throne), and he meets his forbidden-beloved, comes into power, marries a few women, and then rules while trying not to get assassinated. After that, he dies, and the end. *snores* We don’t want another Yi San or Hae Shin-esque sageuk do we?

From the very first episode, the first five minutes in fact, we see that this drama is going to be made of relationships, not politics (which is good, because I can never understand Joseon political lingo anyhow). This isn’t to say that there won’t be any politics at all, because no matter what, all period pieces have to do with some form of a hierarchy, and in the history of Korea, the government was a huge part of this hierarchy; and this drama begins in the palace, where the King’s painters paint to keep records of the country. Their responsibility as painters of the kingdom was to keep a record of this country; it’s very comparable to newspaper reporters, I suppose.

And also, we see that the age gap is being taken into play; I suppose that such an age gap between a married couple or lovers wasn’t as uncommon of an occurrence as it is today, look at the kings…the really old guys who play the king’s grandfather.

The cinematography right here was very nice and it created a dramatic statement: this isn’t a happy story. Continuing along, we see Moon Geun Yung dressed in both men and women’s hanbok (traditional Korean wear) as she paints her self-portrait, but as soon as Park Shin Yang says “my beloved” her attire changes from standard men’s hanbok to the hanbok that she’s wearing in her self-portrait. Those few seconds captured my attention from the start, and I said, “Ily, production team, so so much.”

After he finishes talking, Park opens the door, which Moon turns to, as if looking at him. But now we see that she is in the past, and he the present. The change is obvious, but it doesn’t scream at you; there are no neon lights pointing at the change. Sometimes, scenes are so poorly captured, or it is obvious that a certain effect was meant to be achieved, yet failed. You understand the intent well without confusion.

* The cinematography had me at hello.



Part 2: Race: Shin Yoon Bok vs. Jang Hyo Won!/Leisurely Art Days

Well done, Moon Geun Yung. I commend thee. She does a great job with her mannerisms, speech, and voice. She even has the physical aspects of male-kind down; look at her facial expressions and body movements. Best of it all, it doesn’t feel acted, but natural. She does gender-bent actresses across the screen proud.

It always piques my interest when I hear of actors and actresses giving up vanity for their art, and Moon Geun Yung, by far, takes the cake for giving up vanity. She honestly looks like a guy here, and watching episodes that are farther along, you really get that feeling that, “Wow, this actress is really giving up looking pretty to convey real emotions.” When I first heard that Moon Geun Yung was doing that, I kind of did a double-take; Korea’s Little Sister cross-dressing on the small screen? I was very hesitant to watch it, but it did better than expectations. Well, Korea’s Little Sister no more!

Back to the characters themselves. Here, and all throughout the first couple episodes, Yoon Bok does seem like a cocky little ass, but I like this cocky act that she has as a front. It’s not narcissistic, but it’s very cocky. She continues to carry it throughout the episode when dealing with people that she feels warrants that kind of behavior: people who try to demean her or step on her. She’s called “기집애 같은놈” meaning in short “Girly-boy” or “Wuss” by her fellow classmates at the doh-hwa-suh. But it’s (her cocky attitude) really endearing and I love it. It’s a very guyish sort of cockiness, and she’s just trying to be one of the guys after all, is she not?

Yoon Bok: “Three, two–”
Hyo Won: “H-hey!”
Yoon Bok: “-one.”
Hyo Won: “Hyung-nim.”
Yoon Bok: “Well, well!”
Hyo Won: *looks up*
Yoon Bok: “You’re late. I’ll use it well.”

Park Jin Woo does his part well too, but I’m not sure how I feel about his acting. I think it feels too much like acting, and not as natural. It’s interesting that the two of them (Moon Geun Yung and Park Jin Woo) have done acting together before in My Little Bride with Kim Rae Won. Their rivalry seems real and genuine; it’s fun to watch their banter, nonetheless, despite Park Jin Woo’s exaggerated manner in the beginning of the episode.

FYI: The time period of this story is the Joseon Era, as most sageuks tend to be. Other ones of this time include Yi San and Hong Gil Dong. Remember, this is in the past to Kim Ho Dong’s (Park Shin Yang’s) story that he’s “telling” us.

The outdoor art lesson is called weh-yoo-sah-seng. That’s actually what the episode is called in the credits. It’s a day in which they can go outside to paint whatever they please… or so they think.

* I was hesitant to see what Moon Geun Yung would bring to the table, but she has won me over with the first ten minutes of the thing. Maybe I’m just too easy. *laughs* I actually might like this better than Yoon Eun Hye’s transformation for Coffee Prince.





Part 3: Weh-Yoo-Sah-Seng, and the Adventures of Yoon Bok

Oh, Moon Geun Yung, you and your funny little ways. She does a nice job of being a man, yes yes?

Now, for explanation on the whole “brother” and “father” deal. Yoon Bok is supposed to be a noble’s daughter (case in point: Il-Jeh Elder, played by Han Suk Hwan, who happened to be in Hong Gil Dong as well). She has given up being a woman on the outside and is posing as a boy in order to be eligible to take the Painter’s Exam to paint within the King’s palace. Her “brother” and “father” know about her true identity, as it is implied, and that is why her brother looks after her so much. Actually, when her father was explaining to her “brother” Young Bok, he was telling him that Yoon Bok is special for she is going to be painting under the King himself, and she’s going to be recording royal events in the paintings. (Actually, I’m going to post a chart of relationships that I found online; it’ll be at the end of this entry).

The relationship between Yoon Bok and the gi-saeng, Chung Hyang, is interesting, as she is taken by her beauty instantly, but it doesn’t seem to be an attraction as much as she’s entranced. It’s got to be rough to look at the same people, guys, all day everyday. It’s like a “man-crush” if you will, only in reverse terms. I don’t like Moon Chae Won (a.k.a. Chung Hyang)’s acting (more on that later).

Little things that I noticed were that while Yoon Bok’s painting the air, there are actual brush strokes showing up in the sky line and along the mountains. This is the way that Yoon Bok looks at the world, as a canvas to paint what she wants to. It’s a very little subtlety that’s very fitting and really cute. It shows how much work is put into even the little details.

Also, I noticed after Yoon Bok drives Young Bok (her brother) away from her during the weh-yoo-sah-seng that there is a lone butterfly sitting atop a flower. Very symbolic of what’s to come in the near future for Yoon Bok, as she meets Chung Hyang, whom she calls a flower.

* The actors all look the part, now can they please all play the part?



Part 4: Trouble in Paradise

Yoon Bok’s painting was drawn with the Queen Grandmother facing away from the audience, red birthmark and all. The birthmark is the big arrow pointing towards the fact that the woman in this picture is indeed the Queen Grandmother. The scene in which the Queen Grandmother and her lady-in-waiting are discussing the capture of that incriminating painting ends with her facing away, in the same pose as Yoon Bok’s painting.

The Queen Grandmother is so desperate to get that painting out of sight because it is very obvious to anyone who’s paying attention. If one truly knew her, or saw her often, and paid close attention to the painting, it would be very obvious as to who that woman was. She’s holding a man’s hat and heavy implications along with it. This makes her moral character very questionable and suspicious, so she tries to do whatever she can to save face. She even makes up petty lies, which the king sees right through.

The King and the Queen Grandmother have a very cold and fake relationship hidden behind smiles that don’t reach their eyes. It’s delicate and like many political sageuks, only thing is that these attacks are personal, as the King questions his grandmother’s moral conduct many-a-time. She even goes as far as to ask him, “Are you accusing me?” and he always answers with a polite smile, “Of course not.”

Yoon Bok’s adoptive father: the Il Jeh Elder knows that Yoon Bok has painted the painting of the Queen Grandmother. When she tries to speak up and confess, he ignores her, both times. He hopes that the Dan Won: Kim Hong Do won’t figure it out. Dan Won/Kim Hong Do is a legendary figure in the world of painting. The cream of the crop, if you will. Everyone in Joseon Korea wants his pricey paintings.

The cinematography during the King and the Queen Grandmother’s conversation outside is very nice as well. The King just relays the information that the Dan Won is going to come to examine the painting, and her heart skips a beat, before the world spins around, closing in on her face. This here, is a good example of showing without telling. The camera circles around the King’s face, for that is what is the center of the Queen Grandmother’s world at that moment, and everything is thrown into a frenzy.

* There’s no need for Joseon Korean Politics 101, as it’s not too difficult to understand the current situation.



The Dan Won: Kim Hong Do meets Shin Yoon Bok!

Man oh man, it’s Park Shin Yang. *laughs* He’s an ahjoommah magnet, granted, but he’s got great personality and a sense of quirkiness, and I like him a lot as an actor because of that. He brings life to a character that could be stuffy, grey, or God forbid sage-like. (Now that would make me think twice about supporting the romance of Hong Do and Yoon Bok; I have no intentions of promoting pedo-bear sages).

Park Shin Yang himself said that Painter of the Wind isn’t a sageuk, that’s because you look at his other works, and you look at this work, and it’s still him. I love his mannerisms and speech (so easy to understand T^T) and his informal air. (I’m going to call him Dan Won and Hong Do alternately).

His chemistry with Moon Geun Yung takes the cake. They have a hate…hate relationship so far into the episode. It’s fun to watch their characters interact, as it’s easy and natural, very casual. Actually, the situation that they’re in is a very, very cliché k-drama situation, is it not? Guy meets girl, girl hates guy, guy and girl hate one another. Guy and girl begin to see each other’s “real” personalities, guy and girl fall for each other; it’s an age old equation for many k-dramas. Yet, it doesn’t feel cliché here at all; it truly feels like you can understand where both Yoon Bok and Hong Do are coming from and why they’re arguing with each other.

Yoon Bok is probably thinking that she went to look at a painting by the Dan Won, and this raggedy man suddenly comes and argue about looking at the picture, saying outlandish things like, “Well, then consider this as me wanting to have seen it from 10 years before!” And they rip the dang painting, and furthermore, he just leaves her with a ripped painting that costs 300-nyang! It’s a well-rooted dislike, for he’s being totally irresponsible.

I also love the tension that is shown so well in the conversation between the people that have great dislike for one another. In the case for the Dan Won, it is obvious that everyone has contempt for this exile, for reasons unknown. He doesn’t seem to have done anything, though. But we’ll see.

As for the noblewoman in the Dan Won’s vision. Who is she? Many are saying that she’s Yoon Bok, I’d think that as well, as the woman looks like her, but I don’t believe so. How would that make sense chronologically? Is it a premonition? I don’t know, any ideas?

* Great acting can salvage what’s lost by horrible cinematography, a bad drama even, but great acting and cinematography. Can I ask for anything more?



Part 6: Return to the Palace or Dan Won meet Yoon Book, Yoon Bok meet…w-w-wait, what?! DAN WON?!

The Dan Won’s negative history that’s known throughout the palace is told, however, all those who seem to know him personally do not think of this. What is it that he could have possibly done? It’s shown that it doesn’t take much to earn the higher-ups’ disdain. The Queen Grandmother does a good job of demonstrating that.

Yoon Bok and the Dan Won have similar personalities in the respect of sticking up for themselves. They have no problem of holding their own amongst their enemies and peers. However, I suppose they go about it differently. Hong Do is more of a joker while Yoon Bok is, in comparison, more serious. (I really love Park Shin Yang’s jokey laugh, it’s so funny).

They get off to a rocky start (and in the next episode, their student/mentor relationship, which works both ways, begins), but it’s not an irreparable kind of a rocky start. Rather, it’s much more like a first meeting that you have with a best friend, or someone close to you, and while you were annoyed as hell at the time, you look back after a while and laugh yourself to tears over the weird beginnings your relationship had.

Hong Do: Oi, you, bean!
Yoon Bok: Oh, it’s you, cheapskate!
Hong Do: Why are you coming out of the outhouse so happily? Did you pick up gold or something?
Yoon Bok: Do you have any idea how much I suffered that day? You ripped the painting with me and yet you just left by yourself, what was I supposed to do? Give me the 300 nyang!
Hong Do: Wow, this guy. It’s a great day and all he can talk about is the 300 nyang! What, did I rip that painting by myself?
Yoon Bok: No, that’s why I helped and recreated the painting! Give me the 300 nyang! 300 nyang, I say!



Overall Commentary

First things first: le difference en age

This caused a lot of discussion on forums and blogs alike (more like “ewwwwww!”). Some people were kind of freaked about the old-enough-to-be-a-parent romance that was to happen, and lots of people still are, no doubt. But I think that it really takes the cake (I really like using that expression, don’t I?) when two actors who aren’t “supposed” to be a good match (at least physically) make it plausible, believable, real. When they make people say, “Wow! What’s going to happen with them next episode?” That’s when you know that the actors have done their jobs being their characters, not just acting.

It feels like there’s a culture gap, as this is a segeuk, between the actual series’ time period and us. If we don’t try to understand and close that culture gap, then we’ll continue to have more “ewwwww”s.

Second: The actors and actresses themselves

I think the casting for this drama is well done. Except for the gi-saeng Chung-hyang. I find her sageuk a little stuffy and stiff. She has the looks of a gi-saeng, but not enough of the sageuk characteristic in her speech, while she tries to go for it, it sounds too unnatural to be, well…natural. It feels like acting the character, not being the character for the audience. It wouldn’t hurt at all for her to step it up a notch.

Because it’s harder to evoke emotion about an ancient topic compared to current, trendy dramas casting for sageuks are well-done, unless you count (dare I say it?) Jang Geun Suk, blech. He is not made for sageuks at all.

Moon Geun Yung does gender-bent proud, she lowers her voice to sound like a boy, and she even has that sauntering walk. Park Shin Yang carries his own charm, and makes the character of Kim Hong Do real. I like his mannerisms a lot here, it breaks out the old sageuk mode that everyone’s used to seeing with stiff formalities and fake smiles beneath the political turmoil. I expected great stuff out of Park Shin Yang, of course, but Moon Geun Yung really surprised me with this project.

Third: Subtleties

Subtle things are nice to see; Hong Gil Dong lacked it, as do many, many other drama series. Like how Yoon Bok’s paint brush creates strokes in her world, not only on paper. The oh-so realistic expressions on Hong Do’s face, or the great little venom-filled conversations over tea that the King and his Grandmother share. All of these little things add to the big great things. Or when Yoon Bok finds herself alone, she lets herself revert back to a girl’s voice, sighing in happiness at the prospect of being by herself. Those things make it fun to watch, not just the plot itself.

Pros vs. Cons

Alright. So, this show, as much as I’ve been gushing about it, isn’t perfect by any means. *laughs*

Pros

* Moon Geun Yung and Park Shin Yang have nice chemistry, despite the unpopular age difference.
* A nice pace, doesn’t keep the plot dragging on forever.
* Great subtle details and acting isn’t fake or plastic by any means.
* Interesting plot, and it’s captivating.
* This sageuk has very little politics, and much about relationships.
* Great PD. Case in point: War of Money.
* Cinematography is great.

Cons

* The soundtrack, while being stellar, kind of feels to be too much at times. I feel like I’m at a concert, not watching a drama.
* Sageuk vernacular, ‘nuf said. Unless you understand Korean history itself, it’s really hard, even as a Korean speaker, to understand just what is going on at times.
* Some subtleties are too vague for all the viewers to catch onto, things are very ambiguous to anyone who hasn’t been following the pre-airing synopsis-stuffs and previews. Lots of anonymous people and people who we don’t know what their connection really is.
* It has the possibility, like all dramas, to drag on too long over one plot point, or to lose its effective plot.

Source: javabeans

Painter of the Wind: Episode 2
October 5th, 2008 // by Dahee_Fanel



Y’know, Moon Chae Won is pretty hot, despite her lack of acting ability. And Moon Geun Young is so boyish here, I often forget that she’s a girl. So when the two get together, I almost forget that they’re actually two girls with some pretty crackling chemistry.

…Almost, but not quite. At last, Korea dips its hesitant toe into lesbianism! Muahahaha!

EPISODE 2 RECAP





The artists express admiration for Hong-do’s catching skills, and making a stupid, smirky face (Park Shin Yang seems to think he’s still acting in War of Money…), he drops Yoon-bok like a hot potato, and walks off, commanding her to follow. She does, her tail between her legs.

Hong-do arrives in the classroom, making a commanding, tense first impression. He’s obviously playing with the students’ fear and respect for him, like any good teacher does. (Ha!)

Yoon-bok brings the screen up to the front for him, and sits down. Hyo-won takes this chance to kiss some ass, and welcomes Hong-do, introducing himself as the class leader, and ordering the other students to greet him. Teacher’s pet wannabe.







Interspersed with these scenes of the first lesson are scenes of Jeong-jo and Jeong-soon playing Chinese chess. It’s a tense match, and clearly transcends the game to a less visible battle of wits and force. With every move they make on the board, they make their own points on whether Hong-do will or won’t do a good job, with Jeong-jo on Hong-do’s side, and Jeong-soon opposite him. The game metaphor has been done countless times in other dramas, but, if done well, it never fails to excite me. As it does here.

Jeong-jo comments that he’s doing well in the game only because Jeong-soon is so lenient with him. And she replies, with a wonderful look of strength and charisma, “Is that so?”, and pretty much proceeds to kick his ass. Jeong-jo praises her, and she says, “We’ll have to take this game to the very end, won’t we?” Dude, did I just get goosebumps?



Meanwhile, Hong-do orders the students to copy a painting exactly the way it is…except upside down. He instructs them to paint what they see, not what they think they see. It’s an important difference.

As the students are working on their paintings, Hong-do asks them, “What is painting?” The students all reach for their textbooks for the answer, but he stops them, instructing them to tell him their personal thoughts on what, exactly painting is. Ha. Reminds me of the time my high school drama teacher asked the class what art is, and wouldn’t let us leave until we’d answered to his satisfaction. Ah, memories.





Ahem. Anyway. The students answer one by one, making commonplace, obvious answers, such as “Painting is placing what you see onto the page with your brush”. Hyo-won makes a decent shot at it, saying “Drawing is grasping everything that will eventually disappear, and recording them down.” Hong-do allows him some applause, then asks him his name. Hyo-won makes a long, convoluted answer, making sure to tell him who his father is, etc, and Hong-do cuts him down a few pegs, pretty much saying that he talks too much, and that he should shut up. Ha!

Hong-do gets angry, yelling at them for not even thinking once about what painting is, when they’re studying at the Dohwaseo. What kind of students are they?



Then he notices that Yoon-bok is still drawing by herself, oblivious to what’s going on around her. He calls on her, and orders her to tell him what she thinks painting is. And Yoon-bok makes a surprising answer: “Painting is longing.”

Hong-do’s intrigued, especially since she’s using a play on words here - “painting” and “longing” are very similar in Korean. He asks her to elaborate, so she says “Longing turns into paintings, and paintings become longing as well.”

Yoon-bok: “If you’re longing for someone, then because they keep coming to mind, you end up painting them. Thus, longing becomes a painting.”
Hong-do: “The person you long for becomes a painting? And then?”
Yoon-bok: “Also, even after you’ve forgotten, every time you look at the painting, you long for that person once more. Thus, wouldn’t that be the same as the painting becoming longing?”
Hong-do: “So looking at a painting causes you to feel longing.”
Yoon-bok: “Yes. So…so…Isn’t painting the same as expressing longing?”

Hong-do’s impressed, and the students are shocked and wowed.



Sometime later, Hong-do gives the students a piece of homework: The classic nine dots set out in three rows. They are instructed to find a way to connect all the dots together with only four straight lines, without lifting the brush from the page.

Tee hee. I remember trying to figure that out in elementary school…Guess they did it in the Joseon era, too? Heh.





Upon learning that Hong-do is instructing the students to copy a painting upside down, Byeok-soo (aka Hyo-won’s dad) visits a freaky old man (Heo Shim, an elder painter) and asks him what it means. Heo Shim tells him that he’s doing it in order to see the students’ abilities at painting with their eyes, and not with their minds. That way, he can pinpoint their differences. Heo Shim asks Byeok-soo who did such a thing, and Byeok-soo tells him it was Danwon (Hong-do). Heo Shim laughs in his freaky way, saying the Dohwaseo has suddenly become a much more interesting place.

The guy in charge of the investigation tells Byeok-soo that it’s been decided that, if they don’t find the culprit, then not only Danwon’s, but their hands could get crushed, too. That wouldn’t be very pleasant, eh?

Outside, Hyo-won and his friend are eavesdropping on the conversation. They haven’t heard much, though, only the words “crushing the hand” and “Danwon”, and they make the assumption that if they don’t solve the puzzle, Hong-do will get their hands crushed, and run off to tell the other students.

The students all frantically work at solving the puzzle, but no one is able to make any headway. Yoon-bok seems to be the only one who isn’t stressing out about it.

The Evil Jo-nyon visits a shop that he’s in charge of. The “manager” shows him a painting that he bought from a young student painter - they’ve been having a pretty steady business relationship, and the painter is supposed to drop by later with a new work. The painting is “Spring Mood Covers All Places” by Shin Yoon-bok. Jo-nyon notices the signature seal on one of the paintings, “Il Wol San In”, and keeps repeating it to himself.

And, of course, it’s revealed that Yoon-bok is the one making and selling these paintings.

Hong-do shows his friend, Yin-moon, who’s a fellow painter, the upside-down paintings that the students made. They’re all rather mediocre, and unlike the original painting at all. And then Hong-do shows him the painting that Yoon-bok made, which is exactly like the original. Yin-moon tries to look at the name on the painting, and Hong-do stops him, telling him that the time isn’t right yet.





The students all get together and have a little night feast (with food brought by the 35-year-old student’s wife), and try to solve the puzzle together. Yoon-bok suggests that, by breaking out outside of the dots, the puzzle could be solved. But Hyo-won calls him an idiot, saying that they’re supposed to solve it by keeping the lines inside the dots. Yoon-bok wonders why that is. Great subtle way of showing the difference in Yoon-bok’s thinking, and how her genius comes in part from the fact that she thinks outside of conventions.





The next day, Hong-do shows them the answer: They did, indeed, have to start outside of the dots in order to solve the puzzle. As they’re being punished, Yoon-bok suggests that, then, there would be a way of connecting all the dots with just three lines as well. Hong-do dismisses her, saying there isn’t a way. But Yoon-bok presses the issue, saying “There is a way. We just haven’t found it yet.”



Hong-do tells her to demonstrate, so she gets up and does so - by drawing a big “Z”, Zorro style. (Chil Woo flashbacks, anyone?) But Hong-do says that it’s not foolproof, since the middle line doesn’t go through the middle row of dots in a perfectly straight line. But Yoon-bok insists that it’s right - giving a mini geometry lesson, she talks about angles, and how, the smaller they get, the straighter the lines get. Thus, if the “Z” is stretched horizontally to infinite amounts, then eventually, one should be able to make a straight line through the middle row of dots.





Hong-do envisions what she’s saying, and he’s pretty much placed in a position in which he can a) acknowledge that she’s right, and he was wrong, and thus lose face in front of the class, or b) not acknowledge it, and be a jerk. After a pause, he says that what she’s saying is nonsense, since an answer should be able to be seen by everyone in order to be relevant. He asks her if it’s possible for her to show them what she means. She says yes, but she needs as much paper and ink as she wants. Hong-do tries to step on her some more, saying “So if you don’t have an infinite amount of paper or ink, you can’t show us what you mean?”. Yoon-bok, not one to lose, says “It also means that, if I do have an infinite amount of paper and ink, I can show you.” Buuuuuuurn!

Hong-do manages to slip out of the situation by saying, “Until the day that this puzzle can be solved, we should keep it in our hearts. End of class.” Dude. What a loser. But what an excellent scene at the same time! The two of them may be teacher and student, but they’re also rivals, in a very interesting way. And I like how Hong-do is placed in a difficult situation, and comes out the lesser (hu)man. Plus, the visuals are just really awesomely done here.

The boys all go off to a kisaeng house for a night of entertainment (it’s Hyo-won’s birthday, and he’s even hired a famous kisaeng to play the gayageum - an ancient Korean string instrument - for them).





Meanwhile, Yoon-bok isn’t with the other boys, but seems to be preparing to leave anyway. She even puts on a fake moustache. Hong-do, coming to talk to her, sees her leaving quite by chance, and decides to follow her.

Yoon-bok eventually notices that someone’s following her, and hides amongst a group of diners, managing to shake him off her trail. Satisfied, she goes to see a vendor, to whom she sells an erotic painting - “A Young Boy Plucking an Azalea”. He gives her five nyang, obviously ripping her off, the old fart. She leaves, and another group of customers come in, to whom he immediately shows the painting he just bought. They discuss it, talking about the sly expression on the woman’s face, the way she’s jutting out her hips, the way the man is grabbing her arm, etc. They call the painter a genius, and the vendor demands 50 nyang. Yoon-bok eavesdrops on all this, flattered, and really not very annoyed that she got so little money.







Unfortunately, Hong-do is right behind her, and although she pretends that she doesn’t know who he is, without any delay, he rips off her moustache, revealing her. I don’t know why this scene is in slow-motion, with such dramatic music. Maybe as a way of highlighting the crossdressing theme?

The two of them go for drinks, and Hong-do demands why she’s been selling these paintings. Turns out she wasn’t doing it for the money, but just because she enjoyed the fact that people seemed to like them so much. He looks at the painting (how did he get a copy?), and asks how she came to draw this. She replies, simply, “I just painted what I saw.”



Then, nonchalantly, and quite suddenly, Hong-do asks, “Why did you draw that woman’s back? The woman holding the straw hat?” He’s clearly talking about the painting over which all the hoohaha is erupting, and Yoon-bok is taken aback. Somewhat changing the subject, but acknowleding that it was her work at the same time, she says, “It wasn’t a straw hat. It was a buddhist nun’s hat.” Hong-do isn’t having any of that, however.

Hong-do: “Why did you draw her back?”
Yoon-bok: “That is…That woman’s back…There was something different there. It felt like something heartbreaking.”

The conversation escalates, with Yoon-bok getting more and more excited as she describes the feeling she got as, without even thinking, she grabbed her paintbrush and started drawing. The world around her disappeared, and all that she could see was her painting. Hong-do eggs her on, saying, “You achieved the state of absolute altruism!”, and Yoon-bok’s awed and excited.





And then, as he’s wont to do, he switches tack at the speed of light, and becomes sombre. Yoon-bok asks, ‘What’s wrong?”. That’s when Hong-do decides to tell her that the one who made that painting will be punished by having his hand crushed under a falling stone. Nice timing, buddy.

Hong-do: “Why did you create such a painting? What use is your talent now? You won’t even be able to hold a brush anymore!”
Yoon-bok: “What do you mean, I won’t be able to hold a brush?”
Hong-do: “Don’t you understand what I’m saying? Tomorrow, at the Dohwaseo, they’ll take the culprit who made that painting, and crush his hand under the stone! You won’t be able to do anything anymore!”
Yoon-bok: “My hand will be crushed, teacher? Is that painting so immoral? What did I do that was so wrong? You said it was the state of absolute altruism! It’s just a painting! How can one painting…It doesn’t make any sense. No. How can one painting…”

Absolutely overcome with shock and distress, Yoon-bok gets up and leaves, ignoring Hong-do’s calls for her to sit down. Yeah, you really handled that one nicely, Hong-do. Bravo.





Yoon-bok walks, dazed and with tears in her eyes, through the market, remembering her memories as a child, when her father (NOT her current adoptive father) taught her how to paint by creating shadows with his hands on the walls, and having her paint the butterfly that he was shaping. Interestingly, she also remembers the scene in the market when she and Hong-do first met, when Hong-do was trying to give her tips on how to recreate his painting. The two important teachers in her life? Also, Moon Geun Young is just awesome in this scene.

Somehow, she winds up in front of the kisaeng house, and one of the kisaeng notices her and takes her inside, to where her fellow students are still celebrating.



Once she arrives, Hyo-won, ever the bully, tells her to take a very, very large shot of alcohol. They jeer at her, calling her “girly” and saying she could never do it. Miserable and feeling reckless, she takes the drink and downs it in one go. One quip I have here: No prominent Adam’s Apple! Does no one else notice? Yeesh.

Predictably, it turns out that the Lesbian Kisaeng from before (who, yes, actually has a name - it’s Jeong-hyang) is the one providing the entertainment with her gayageum. The boys fawn over her, and, like an ass, Hyo-won tells her to forget her instrument, and to come sit on his lap. Jeong-hyang is all, “Ha! In your dreams, bitch.” Okay, so she doesn’t say that. But she’d might as well.

A drunk Yoon-bok speaks up. Let the flirting recommence!





Yoon-bok: “You’re as thorny as ever.”
Jeong-hyang: “The more thorns the flower has, the more beautiful it is.”
Yoon-bok: “This is the first time I’ve seen a flower call itself beautiful.”
Jeong-hyang: “A flower doesn’t stop being beautiful just because it calls itself beautiful.”
Yoon-bok: “What does it matter if a flower’s beautiful, if no one notices it?”
Jeong-hyang: “The flower simply exists. Whether it is beautiful or not is simply the passing figure of measurement.”

One of the drunken students chooses this moment to throw a cup at Jeong-hyang, causing a string on her gayageum to break. The other students chastise him, and Hyo-won once again grabs the chance to tell her that, since her instrument is broken, she’d might as well come and drink with them instead. Being her regular Sassy Sally self, without a word, Jeong-hyang simply states the name of the song, and without further ado, begins playing.







She starts off with a fast, rousing number, and then switches to a slow, melancholic one. Of all the students, Yoon-bok is the only one who appears to be really touched by the music - and Jeong-hyang notices. In an absolutely breathtaking scene, she and Jeong-hyang are transported to a green mountainside, in which Yoon-bok watches, tears in her eyes, as her younger self and her parents walk, half-dancing, down the mountain, a picture of happy family life. (Random note: Squee! Hottie Extraordinaire Han Jung Soo plays her dad!! )

Yoon-bok and Jeong-hyang’s eyes meet, that connection between them reinforced. The moment is broken as the students start applauding, and Yoon-bok gets up to leave. Before she does, however, she quietly tells Jeong-hyang, “It was the very best performance.”





Hong-do, who incidentally is staying with that friend of his, Yin-moon, is showing him that erotic painting of Yoon-bok’s, and is lamenting the fact that such talent will be going to waste. Yin-moon warns him that Hong-do’s hand could be the one that winds up crushed. But Hong-do is still looking for a way to save Yoon-bok’s hand.

Outside, his friend’s sister, Jung-sook, is waiting with refreshments. She has a huge crush on Hong-do, and seems to have liked him since she was a little girl. Hong-do, of course, is oblivious.





The Evil League of Evil - er, I mean the Evil Counsel(?), aka Jeong-soon’s uncle, brother, Byeok-soo, and Jo-nyeon - are discussing, who else? Hong-do. And their worry over what they see as his imminent attempts to bring to light what happened ten years ago - whatever that is. Jo-nyeon tells them not to worry too much. If the culprit is someone who possesses talent that Hong-do himself acknowledges, then Hong-do will make sure that that talent doesn’t go to waste. But if he tries to save the student, only one of two things can happen to him: His hand will be the one that’s crushed, or he’ll leave once again.



Jeong-hyang leaves the students, and Yoon-bok confronts her, asking her to play the gayageum for her again. She offers to pay the money that she earned for her painting earlier. Jeong-hyang tells her that she’s worth much more than that, but Yoon-bok insists that it’s all the money she has. Jeong-hyang tries to leave, but in an interesting twist on the traditional K-drama trope, Yoon-bok grabs her arm as she passes by. Ha! Bet Moon Geun Young’s always wanted to try that. I know I have.

“This hand will be no more once tomorrow comes. These five nyang are the money I earned from selling the last painting I made with this hand. I want to spend the final night using this sale. With the music from that gayageum.”

End episode.



ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS





Moon Geun Young just keeps getting better and better. That last scene in particular makes me think that she’d make a really good K-drama hero. It’s the kind of scene that would normally really get on my nerves, since it’s become such a cliche, but here, it works, thanks to the gender-bending and the gay vibes. I think I’m sorta-kinda becoming a Yoon-bok/Jeong-hyang fan. It’s just too bad that Moon Chae Won can’t act to save her life.

Also, the music, while lovely, is really noticeable and loud. It was the same way in the first episode, but it’s even more obvious in this one. I wish they’d tone it down a little. I do, however, like the way the camera keeps focusing on hands - it’s little details like that that help reinforce the themes, and deepen the meaning. Although it can be a little overdone at times, just like the music.

I also really like how Yoon-bok’s past isn’t told to us directly, but just in bits and pieces. We don’t know how she got to the Dohwaseo yet, and how she came to start dressing like a man. We aren’t even reminded most of the time that she is, in fact, a woman. Instead, the story concentrates a lot more on her artistic maturation and thought processes, which I appreciate. It’s like the direct opposite of 2006’s Hwang Jini, which was so caught up in its (insipid) love stories that it forgot the fact that Jini was an artist first and foremost. Painter of the Wind is much more respectful to the artist’s craft, and the writer clearly knows what she’s doing. It can only make me look forward to the future.

Dahee

Here's the English translations that I did for the theme song. Hopefully it makes sense. The lyrics are so touching and beautiful.......
Thanks to vkkkim and Baidu for sharing this.
Credit: Baidu / 朴新阳中文网 / duncaness

저 달빛 아래　너와 나　　이토록 가까운데
在那明月下 我和你 隔离是多麼近
It’s you and me, so close under the moonlight.

손에 닿을 듯 　눈에 보일 듯 　더 아련한데
像要接触到你时 你的目光回转 那朦胧的回忆
To become in contact with you, your vision rotates that turn into hazy memories.

나 얼마나 더 살아야　　 널 다시 불러볼까
如能活下去 可以不可以再次呼唤你
If I can live on, can I call your name once more.

목이 메일 듯 　숨이 멎을 듯　 널 불러본다
难以发出声音 呼吸快要停止 尝试去呼唤你
Who can make a sound, I had difficulty in breathing when I tried to call you.

널 안고 바람이 불어온다　　 내 마음 씻어간다
你像被风抱拥般来 心像暮色般消失
Like you are being hugged by the wind, your heart vanishing like twilight/dusk/nightfall.

어린 날에 꾸었던 소녀의 꿈처럼 따듯한
像年幼时梦见 像少女的梦似的 温暖的风
Like a young girl’s dream, dreaming of the warm wind.

널 안고 달려간다　 하늘 끝까지 간다
你自信的挺胸昂首的走到世界尽头
Your self-confidence lets you walk to the end of the World.

이미 지나가버린 어린 날 꿈처럼 아득한
像已过去 年幼的梦一般 相隔在远方
As in the past, a young dream, dreaming away in the distance.

또 기다림이 머물러 　기나긴 밤을 새워
那不再等待的决心 使你彻夜不眠
You don’t need to wait any longer for the determination that caused you to stay awake all night.

너를 그리다　 너를 그리다 　또 짙은 어둠
在深夜中 你一而再而三的继续绘画
Late at night, you continue to draw.

널 안고 바람이 불어온다　 내 마음 씻어간다
你像被风抱拥般来 心像暮色般消失
Like you are being hugged by the wind, your heart vanishing like twilight/dusk/nightfall.

어린 날에 꾸었던 소녀의 꿈처럼　따듯한
像年幼时梦见 像少女的梦似的 温暖的风
Like a young girl’s dream, dreaming of the warm wind.

널 안고 달려간다 　하늘 끝까지 간다
你自信的挺胸昂首的走到世界尽头
Your self-confidence lets you walk to the end of the World.

이미 지나가버린 어린 날 꿈처럼 아득한
像已过去 年幼的梦一般 相隔在远方
As in the past, a young dream, dreaming away in the distance.

언제나 처럼 또 올 것처럼 넌 그렇게 살다가
像往常一样的 探访你像风那样的生活
As usual, you like to visit the wind out of life.

내 맘처럼 　저 바람처럼
我的心 像那个风似的
My heart resembles the wind.

넌 그대로 와　　 난 너에게 가　　 너를 안아
你身边只有我 我身边只有你 想以这个方法来拥抱
When only you are beside me, and only I am beside you, I want to embrace you.

바람이 불어온다 내 마음 씻어간다
心像风吹过那样被不留痕地冲洗
Heart of like the wind breeze, leaving no traces of the image left.

푸른 언덕 위에서 세상을 비추는 빛으로
你在那个蓝色的山上 发出照亮世界的光
You are on the blue mountain illuminate the world.

널 안고 달려간다 　하늘 끝까지 간다
你自信的挺胸昂首的走到世界尽头
Your self-confidence lets you walk to the end of the World.

깊은 어둠 속에서 내 맘을 비추는 소리로
在深夜中 照亮我的心斐
In the night, illuminating my heart.

나　나라라라 　나나　라라라
la lararara lala rarara
나나　라라라　　나　라라라 　나나나
lala rarara la rarara lalala

달파란 하늘 아래 　네 이름 불러본다
在晈洁的明月下 呼唤你的名字
Under the clean bright moonlight, calling your name.

어딜가나 주었던 그 따뜻함으로 가득한
不论走到哪里 都感到风中充满对你的思念
No matter where you are, the wind is full of your thoughts.

Source: Twitch

Moon Geun-Young Injured, 바람의 화원 (Painter of the Wind) Shoot Halted
Posted by X at 8:05am.
Posted in TV , Asia.



It must have been quite exciting, Korean Tv in the 1970s. Although you had landmark exceptions like 수사반장 (Inspector Chief), most TV dramas were shot on a sound stage, and broadcast live, as if we were dealing with a play. That might be one of the reasons why so many veteran TV actors are so good when it comes to reaction acting, after all those years of training on the spot. But the TV landscape of the 1970s is peculiarly resembling today’s TV circus in Korea, the “생방 (live broadcast)” shoot syndrome one of its most sinister symptoms.

Although the situation varies from country to country, you usually see a TV production secure funding and go through casting (or viceversa), complete its shoot or at least the vast majority of it, and then broadcast. But in Korea, where a drama can go belly up just because it fails to enter a broadcaster’s lineup, timing is everything. Projects might take even a couple of months to get the green light, but always wait in standby, until the timeslot has been secured, after which shooting starts. This means most miniseries only shoot between 4 and 8 episodes before broadcast starts, and that’s where problems begin. Shooting fast and editing even quicker is not really the problem (Koreans doing rather well by now): the issue is the script. With so much attention paid to ratings, the idea of starting with a completed script (or something to that extent) is only something the greats can do, think a Jung Ha-Yeon or Noh Hee-Kyung. The rest, even the talented ones, end up facing the nightmare of 쪽대본 (paper scripts) sooner or later. That is, scripts written on the fly, sent to the shooting location via fax or e-mail, trying to stick to the original synopsis yes, but often adapted to various production issues, such as the need to bloat every episode up to a ridiculous 70 to 80 minutes (the current trend, but some are even touching the 90 minutes), just to take full advantage of ad revenue. Which, in turns, hurts both the acting and the drama itself.

Sometimes you have third-party production companies interfering with last-minute casting decisions, even if they could end up killing narrative flow. That is what writer Yoo Dong-Yoon of 왕과 나 (The King & I) had to endure, after SBS and Olive9 used the sageuk as their personal rating toy, adding useless characters and making a very promising drama turn into a fat, slow and plodding dinosaur, which barely saved itself at the last minute. Sometimes it’s a problem of planning itself, like what the producers of 스포트라이트 (Spotlight) ended up doing, forcing someone like Lee Gi-Won (who writes well, but slowly) to adapt to these insane production speeds, and some say even asking him to rethink narrative directions because of low ratings, the reason why he resigned mid-flight and left the project to his assistant writers for the second half. What this craze generally does is only ruining dramas, but sometimes there’s something a little more dangerous at stake. A few years ago, 늑대 (Wolf) halted production after Eric Moon and Han Ji-Min went through an injury during a shoot, and this nightmare risked a nefarious deja-vu when Chae Si-Ra, star of the upcoming sageuk 천추태후 (Empress Cheonchu), fell off her horse during training. The situation was managed rather well, extending 대왕세종 (Sejong the Great) by five episodes, taking advantage of the various preemptions during the Olympics and whatnot, and finally getting to a point (now) where normality has been re-established and shooting is back to on course. Sadly, that doesn’t always work.

I spared no praise for SBS’ new fusion sageuk 바람의 화원 (Painter of the Wind), and there is a good reason for that. It’s full of wonderful, well researched details; it has an irresistible elegance and great music, top of the line CG and the kind of cinematography and narrative flow that at times turn this show into visual poetry. Moon Geun-Young is doing a superb job, the veterans are predictably great, and Park Shin-Yang is showing a kind of eclectic charm despite this not exactly being the right delivery for the genre; but also lesser actors like the inexperienced Moon Chae-Won and Park Jin-Woo somehow seem to make it. The praise should go to newcomer writer Lee Eun-Young, who’s adapting the novel wonderfully despite slightly deviating from it, and particularly PD Jang Tae-Yoo, who allegedly threw two months of shoot in the trash just because young Moon had completely immersed herself in the role after a while, so he decided to reshoot the earlier, a tad more “rustic” parts. There’s even a touch of history beyond details, which looks to grow even stronger in the coming months, as the mystery of Yoon-Bok’s father and his death get tied to the Prince Sado affair. Problem now is that Moon Geun-Young was injured during the shoot.

It’s nothing really serious, just a broken nose which will take about 10 days of rest, and will bring her back in front of the camera in two weeks. But of course this spells trouble for the production, which decided not to broadcast episode 7 and 8 next week, replaced by a few specials (which will apparently feature some new scenes), and it’s likely the week after might be at risk as well. Some “journalists” are speculating about paper scripts being the major culprit, but with a very solid synopsis already covering 15 episodes, and the foundation the novel gives you, I’d be very surprised if this was the problem. Biggest issue might be PD Jang himself, way too much of a perfectionist to let a rushed production interfere with his work. But of course the most important issue is macroscopic, concerning the need to establish a new structure, allowing those who want to enough time to complete their shoot before broadcast. With the current system, it’s certainly not possible. Halting the shoot is certainly inevitable, and might even help the drama in ways that nothing else would: the show is currently lagging behind the annoying misfire 베토벤 바이러스 (Beethoven Virus) and the sageuk 바람의 나라 (Kingdom of the Wind). This latest happening might bring back some attention to the show, and increase the chances it might do better ratings in the future. Also, despite this impasse, it doesn’t look like it will harm the quality of the show in any way.

What the broadcasters need to realize before it’s too late, though, is that quality takes time, that ratings are a very elusive chimera—unless you submit to lowest-common-denominator sensibilities like 조강지처클럽 (The First Wives’ Club), that is—and that the safety of the performers comes first. The TV industry in Korea actually resembles a lot what is happening in Wall Street, with the only exception that the powers that be aren’t trying to find a solution to the problem together (or at least pretending to), they’re just taking out the swords and trying to slay each other for whatever is left of the pie. And you know what happens when two enemies start blowing up things on the same boat. They both drown....

Still, we wish a speedy recover to Moon Geun-Young, who’s doing a truly marvelous job, and hope Painter of the Wind continues to impress until the end.

-Daum
-Daum

Source: javabeans

Production hopes for speedy recovery for “Painter” star
October 15th, 2008 // by javabeans



After Moon Geun-young fractured her nose in filming for Painter of the Wind, drama production slowed to a halt as their star was forced to take some time off and recover. Now production is hoping their star will be ready to get back to work as early as October 17.

On October 15, a rep for Moon Geun-young said, “She will be returning to the set sometime this week. It’ll be difficult for her to return by the 15th as originally estimated, but if things go well we think she’ll be back by Friday.”

Moon is reportedly doing much better following minor surgery, although there’s still a lot of swelling in her face. She is currently resting at home.

Because of the filming delays, this week fans will only be able to see “special” broadcasts (i.e., mostly filler footage and cut scenes cobbled together as a sort of slapdash behind-the-scenes program. However, with only six episodes aired so far, I doubt there’ll be that much worth watching). If things go as planned, episode 7 should air on the 22nd, next Wednesday.

Via Joy News

Source: javabeans

Painter of the Wind: Episode 4
October 17th, 2008 // by Dahee_Fanel



Ha! Park Shin Yang in drag. That image has been BURNED onto my BRAIN.

I guess that shows you just how much more lighthearted this episode was over, say, episode three, which was Angstfest to the Max. What I appreciate about Painter is that, although it can try a little too hard to be humourous at times, those light scenes always serve something to the plot and the characters. So I can tolerate things that I wouldn’t be able to tolerate in lesser dramas.

EPISODE 4 RECAP



Hong-do takes Yoon-bok to a doctor, who says she’ll be just fine. As for her hand, she just needs to open and close it several times a day, and keep it flexible. Oh, and she needs to take some medicine too, but what doctor in a drama doesn’t prescribe medicine?





Later, once Yoon-bok’s awake, Hong-do takes her to Jung-sook’s place, and tells her to stay there for the time being. Yoon-bok tells him there’s no need, and that he should butt out of her business, since she has no intention of going back to the Dohwaseo. In fact, she doesn’t even need to call him “teacher” anymore, and reverts to the less formal “Kim hyung”.

Hong-do, however, isn’t about to let her go, and as she turns to leave, he reminds her that, with that battered hand, no one will hire her or take her. Faced with no other choice, she follows him into the house.





However, once she’s there, she refuses to eat or change clothes, and simply spends all day lying in bed. But then she gets a special visitor: Young-bok.

The two of them have a light, friendly conversation, in which Young-bok tries his best to cheer her up, and shows her some paint powder from the Danchongso, which he supposedly made. He tells her that he’s doing really well at the Danchongso, and, without outright saying it, that she shouldn’t feel worried or guilty over his plight. Yoon-bok’s too smart not to know that he’s probably exaggerating, but she’s very touched by his gesture. Young-bok is too sweet for words. Awww.



But then we get a glimpse of his real life at the Danchongso, in which things aren’t nearly as cheery as he made them out to be. He’s bullied there for being from the Dohwaseo (and thus originally of a higher class), and gets harrassed regularly. He manages to do okay, however, by the thought of Yoon-bok.

Meanwhile, Jeong-jo’s meeting with an envoy from China, from whom he’s received a gift (the one for Jeong-soon shown in episode one). It’s now his turn to send a gift, and he instructs the Dohwaseo to submit paintings to send the Chinese.

Along with the Dohwaseo elders, Hong-do’s planning on a painting, too, and Jeong-jo tells him that he’s looking forward to seeing it. Talk about laying on the pressure.







However, Byeok-soo has ordered several painters to pack up Hong-do’s things, because he’s sending him off to Pyeongyang. When Hong-do goes to confront him, Byeok-soo argues that, since he’s done with his mission, he’d might as well leave. Hong-do asks him if he’s that afraid of him, and Byeok-soo scoffs, but he doesn’t answer directly.

Hong-do declares that he can’t leave, and that he’s a little different from his teacher, who died ten years ago. As he turns to go, Byeok-soo basically tells him that, since Yoon-bok has disappeared from the Dohwaseo and has pretty much done whatever she wants, that she won’t be able to take the exam to become an official painter.









Hong-do goes to visit Yoon-bok, who’s still in bed. He forces her out, and the two of them go on a little outing to the marketplace. They do things like drink, eat, try on sunglasses (yes, sunglasses), watch a cockfight, and look at pretty merchandise (Yoon-bok looks at a butterfly ornament again - this has been an interesting and recurring theme for her, since they are made for women. Does it symbolize her hidden womanhood, and her longing to “fly”, and embrace the woman within her?). As they do, there’s a voiceover in which Hong-do tells Yoon-bok that he, too, once upon a time, tried to quit painting. He refused to do anything, and caused lots of trouble for everyone. They all gave up on him, except for his teacher, who suffered a lot because of him. Yoon-bok’s intrigued, and asks him why he paints at all.

Hong-do: “I don’t know.”
Yoon-bok: “What do you mean, you don’t know?”
Hong-do: “Do you think those cocks know why they’re fighting?”
Yoon-bok: “What?”
Hong-do: “Do you know why you’re eating food as you eat it? …For painters, painting is food. Food! You can’t eat because you’re not painting. …So don’t think about it too hard, and just paint. Because it seems to me that you were just born that way.”





Hong-do takes Yoon-bok to what looks like a shack back at the house where Yoon-bok’s staying, and the two of them stick up large sheets of paper. Looking at the blank paper, Hong-do has a Michelangelo moment, and asks, “Can you see it?”. Yoon-bok can’t see anything, however, and Hong-do tells her that everything they need is already in the paper, so it’s the same thing as having painted an image already. Yoon-bok scoffs at him, and Hong-do goes to show her - quickly sketching an old man with his brush. Once he’s done, he asks Yoon-bok, “Can you see it?”.

Yoon-bok doesn’t seem to get his point quite yet, so he continues to paint, repeating each time he’s finished drawing another person, “Can you see it?”.

Finally, after the third sketch, Yoon-bok realizes that he’s painting random people that they encountered throughout the day. Hong-do tells her that it’s easy to paint things exactly the way they are when they’re right there in front of you, but it’s important to know how to capture the images you want in your mind, and be able to draw them again later, having captured the essence - the spirit, if you will - of the person. It’s just like when she broke through the invisible line of the six dots.









Inspired, Yoon-bok begins calling him “teacher” again. Hong-do holds up a candle, and tells her:

“Just like the way a single light creates countless shadows, one line can contain countless different shapes. If you can see those shadows, then you’ll be able to capture everything within your painting.”

As he’s saying this, we’re given the image of young Yoon-bok wih her father, who told her the exact same thing when she was little. Yoon-bok is startled, and a little touched - it’s like her father is speaking to her through Hong-do, beyond the years (little does she know that Hong-do and her father knew each other!). Hong-do holds out the brush to her, asking, “Will you paint?”. She takes it, hesitantly.





In a beautiful moment, Hong-do wraps his hand around hers, strengthening her grip on the brush. And he says, “Don’t be afraid.” He guides her hand, and the two of them paint, with Yoon-bok visibly affected by their close proximity. It’s very romantic.







The romance factor is very in-your-face in the following sequence, in which we’re shown images of the two of them painting together throughout the night, continually bumping into each other, accidentally bringing their faces close to each other, falling back onto the ground, and, after Yoon-bok accidentally splatters paint on one portion of the giant painting they’re working on, Hong-do playfully chasing her with a rake. It’s a great way to show how close they’re becoming, and the underlying romantic tensions between them.







In the morning, Yoon-bok wakes up first. They’ve finished the painting, and it looks absolutely gorgeous. She watches Hong-do as he sleeps, and in a very tender gesture, takes his hand and whispers, “Thank you, teacher.” She brings his hand to her forehead, and Jung-sook takes this moment to enter the shack, interrupting a highly embarrassed Yoon-bok, who drops Hong-do’s hand like a hot potato. It’s adorable.

Her spirits renewed, Yoon-bok attacks her breakfast like someone who hasn’t eaten in years. The way she stuffs her mouth with random food is fairly disgusting. Poor Moon Geun Young. This scene must have been awful to do. And why do I keep getting reminded of Yoon Eun Hye’s early jjajangmyun eating scene in Coffee Prince? Blergh.





Jeong-jo is being presented with all the paintings that the members of the Dohwaseo prepared to be sent as a gift to China, but he’s displeased with each painting that is brought forward. He asks where Hong-do’s submission is, and Byeok-soo tells him that Hong-do hasn’t prepared a submission. Asshole.



But! Hong-do arrives at the palace with his own offering - the painting he spent the night making with Yoon-bok. (Funny how it looks so much smaller now…) It is the super-famous work “Group of Gods” by Kim Hong-do. Jeong-jo loves it at first sight, naturally, and declares that this will be the painting sent to China, regretting, at the same time, that he won’t be able to look at this painting for much longer. The Dohwaseo elders are not pleased.

Jeong-jo tells Hong-do that he’ll grant him a wish in return. Hong-do tells him that he didn’t make the painting himself, but that he was helped by a student, Yoon-bok. He would like Yoon-bok to be promoted to the level of official painter. Jeong-jo asks Byeok-soo for his opinion, and Byeok-soo argues that Yoon-bok ran away from the Dohwaseo, and that it would be wrong for the Dohwaseo to take him back so easily. So Jeong-jo offers a compromise: If Yoon-bok passes the official exam, then she’ll be promoted. But if she doesn’t, then Hong-do will have to return to Pyeongyang.



The day of the exam arrives! Only one person can pass (yes, it’s that exclusive). They have until noon the next day to finish. WHO WILL BE THE WINNER? My god, it’s like a game show! Only more awesome.

They’re given two subject choices: One is a painting that depicts an event during the late King Yeong-jo’s reign. The other is a poem (which mentions air, swinging, and skirts). They have to understand it, and paint something that depicts the poem properly.





The other students get to work right away, with the oldest student conveniently mentioning that no one’s ever chosen the very difficult poem choice before. But Yoon-bok simply sits, pondering it over. She remembers Hong-do’s words - “Create a painting that lives.” And she suddenly remembers Jeong-hyang (say it with me, folks: SO GAY!). She gets up and gets permission to leave, in order to find a suitable subject.

Meanwhile, it seems that Byeok-soo has instructed one of the painters to make sure that Yoon-bok doesn’t pass the exam - no matter what it takes to stop her. He wants to make sure that Hong-do has to leave for Pyeongyang. Ugh, dude. Must you persist with your asshattery?







Once outside, Yoon-bok asks a group of women where the women’s swinging (and bathing!) location is. The women tease her, pretty much calling her a Peeping Tom, and Yoon-bok runs off, her tail between her legs.

As she’s running off, a random kisaeng calls out to her, acting all flirty. Yoon-bok asks her if she can ask her a question, and the kisaeng says yes - if, that is, she’ll paint her. Yoon-bok turns away, uninterested…and then gets an idea. Setting it in motion, she says coquettishly, “I can’t draw women when they have their clothes on.” Ha! Yoon-bok, you giant flirt.

So she takes the kisaeng to a remote location by a tree, where the kisaeng passes her her articles of clothing one by one, and Yoon-bok puts them on. Once she’s completely changed, she runs off, leaving the poor kisaeng alone and in her undergarments.





Yoon-bok saunters through the market, making ridiculously bad attempts to look feminine. It’s really quite amusing. As she walks along, she accidentally runs into Hong-do, who’s followed her out of the Dohwaseo, but has lost track of her along the way. Thankfully, however, Hong-do doesn’t recognize her, and Yoon-bok hurries along on her way. She goes back to the women who teased her before, and once again asks where the swinging is taking place. They, too, fail to recognize her, and tell her right away.

Not long after Yoon-bok’s gone off, Hong-do approaches the same group of women, and asks them if they’ve seen a short student painter around. They tell him that they saw one who asked them where the bathing was taking place, and thus Hong-do goes off to follow her there.





Yoon-bok successfully infiltrates the bathing area, where the women are taking turns on the swing, bathing, chatting and generally having a great time. She’s found the subject for her painting.





And then Jeong-hyang arrives! Feeling mischievous, Yoon-bok approaches her, and lightly chats to her as though she’s a woman (which…she is. Oh. Right. I forgot). Jeong-hyang is confused at first, but it’s pretty clear that she comes to recognize her, even if she plays along with Yoon-bok’s ruse. Yoon-bok believes she’s fooled her.





The person who’s been taking a turn at the swing finishes, and Jeong-hyang suggests that the two of them ride together. So they get on the swing together, and begin - with Jeong-hyang revealing that she knows who Yoon-bok is, saying, “Hold on tight…student painter. The first time is always important.”



Thus follows the gayest scene of the entire drama so far. The two of them are swinging back and forth on the swing, facing each other, and Jeong-hyang’s eyes are like, BORING A HOLE into Yoon-bok’s face. Yoon-bok, on the other hand, is too awed by her surroundings, busy turning everything she sees into a painting in her mind’s eye to really look at her all that often. But seriously. They’re rocking back and forth. There’s some serious chemistry going on there. And at the end, Yoon-bok shouts in jubilation (breathing heavily…), “It’s done! It’s done!” (she’s talking about the painting, you pervs!). It is like a big, fat, obvious metaphor for sex. And Yoon-bok gets an orgasm at the end. OH. MY. GOD.

I knew I was watching this drama for a reason.





Meanwhile, a random male passersby sits down by the tree where the kisaeng is isolated, lamenting the fact that he doesn’t have a girlfriend. That’s when the kisaeng gets his attention, and asks him for his help. Tee hee.





Hong-do’s found a way to sneak to the bathing area. He steals some clothes from a sleeping woman, and basically crossdresses, covering up his face so that no one will know he’s a man. He finds Yoon-bok, who’s busy painting (surrounded by an admiring crowd), and lets her know that he’s there.

This scene is interesting in its use of silences - every time the camera focuses on the painting, and on the painting process, everything becomes absolutely silent - we can’t even hear the sound of the waterfall anymore. Very nice way to show the concentration and genius involved.





But as Yoon-bok’s about to draw the person on the swing, she hesitates. Hong-do asks what’s wrong. Yoon-bok says she can’t draw the person there, because she hasn’t seen into the heart of that particular woman yet. (Ooooooooh.)







That’s when the kisaeng finds her, and demands that she return her clothes. Hong-do tries to calm her down, and accidentally gets himself revealed as a man. Hong-do makes up a lie on the spot, pretending that Yoon-bok’s his sickly wife, and that he just wanted to make sure that she was okay. The kisaeng shouts that it’s Yoon-bok who’s the one who stole her clothes, and that she’s a man. No one believes her, but as Yoon-bok and Hong-do are about to make their getaway, Yoon-bok drops her male painter’s clothes, and they’re found out. Jeong-hyang promises to take care of Yoon-bok’s painting supplies for her, and Yoon-bok and Hong-do run away. End episode.



ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS



We see some major developments in the Yoon-bok and Hong-do relationship in this episode, which was quite nicely done, I thought, despite the fact that the scene with them painting together could be a little too obvious at times. Painter always has that tendency to overdo things, but it hasn’t quite slipped over the edge into obnoxiousness yet, which I really do appreciate.

But while it can overdo things at times, it can also be really subtle in its tiny, perfect little details - such as the repeated scenes of Yoon-bok looking at the butterfly ornament. Almost everything means something, and for that, I really have to respectfully bow my head towards writer Lee Eun Young, who seems to be turning out to be an exciting new talent in sageuk.

Also, I know I’m always fawning over Moon Geun Young, but I just want to note that she does a very good job of showing the awkwardness of Yoon-bok’s masquerade as a woman - it’s one thing to act like a guy, but to act like a guy who’s trying to act like a woman? That’s a little trickier. And Moon pulls it off with panache and charm. I really do want to marry her. I’m serious about this. Here’s to hoping her poor nose makes a quick recovery.

Source: javabeans

Painter of the Wind: Episode 5
October 20th, 2008 // by Dahee_Fanel



This episode had some aggravating scenes, which made me a little grumpy. But it also had some really beautiful scenes (GAYNESS!), and that pretty much balanced everything out. I will note, however, that I’m still waiting for a really stand-out episode from Painter, quality-wise. But good things come to those who wait, I suppose?

EPISODE 5 RECAP





Yoon-bok and Hong-do run like mad, and the painter sent by Byeok-soo to sabotage Yoon-bok’s painting follows them, all sneaky-like. Sneaky, sneaky.

That night, the two of them stop by a creek, and Yoon-bok tells Hong-do not to watch as she changes out of her women’s clothes. Hong-do promises not to, but he peeps at her anyway - he seems to have been really struck by the way she looked when she was “crossdressing”. Yoon-bok yells at him (don’t worry, he didn’t see anything important), and Hong-do tells her that with her bone structure, she could easily be mistaken for a woman. Yoon-bok’s all flustered, and it’s cute.

The outline for her painting’s all done, but she still needs a focus to hold it down - the person on the swing. She tells Hong-do that she knows where to go to find what - or who - to put in there, however.





Meanwhile, the rest of the students are working diligently on their own paintings, and Hyo-won in particular is doing well, garnering lots of praise from the supervisors. His sleazy friend mentions that, if Yoon-bok doesn’t show up, then Hyo-won is a shoe-in to be the one who’s promoted to official painter.





Hong-do meets with what looks like an old friend - Dok-bu, I think his name is - someone who seems to have known Yoon-bok’s dad as well. He tells Hong-do that Seo Jing’s daughter - in other words, Yoon-bok - is alive, but he doesn’t know where she is. He tells Hong-do that he’s still very afraid, and Hong-do reassures him that he’ll take care of everything.





The evil group we’re all friendly with by now - The Evil Quartet, I like to call them - are gathered with some other pals for Ye-pan’s birthday at the kisaeng house, and they’re all analyzing a certain painting the head kisaeng prepared for Ye-pan - “Cat in Fur of Shining Gold” by Kim Hong-do - and trying to guess who the painter is. When it’s Jo-nyeon’s turn to analyze it, he does it exceptionally well, as always. He even guesses that it was painted by Hong-do.

What I like about the characterization of Jo-nyeon is that, while he’s pretty evil in parts, he’s also very human. He’s intelligent, rich and shrewd, but due to his original low status in society, he’s looked down on by the nobles he consorts with, and he knows this well. He’s quite the outsider. It’s sorta sad.





Yoon-bok and Jeong-hyang are meeting at the kisaeng house at the same time as all this is going on. Jeong-hyang plays the gayageum for her for a bit, and then Yoon-bok spreads out her sketch, and asks her for a favour.

“Please enter this painting. Show me everything. Everything that is concealed underneath your clothes. Your heart, your spirit, your constancy, and…Concealed underneath all of that, your music.”

And so Jeong-hyang complies. BY TAKING OFF HER CLOTHES.

I ought to stop saying things like “This is the gayest scene so far”, because Painter just keeps topping itself. You thought the swing scene in the last episode was suggestive? That was nothing, and I mean NOTHING, compared to this. It is enough to make a lonely, hetero teenaged boy shed tears out of pure joy.







So, Jeong-hyang’s taking off her clothes, la di da, and Yoon-bok’s observing her. Fine. Artists do that. They draw people naked. I understand that Jeong-hyang is her muse, and that Yoon-bok’s attraction seems to mainly stem from the fact that Jeong-hyang inspires her, sets fire to her…creativity, if you will. (For the record, I was totally NOT thinking of writing something other than “creativity” just now.) I get it.

But seriously, people. Was it NECESSARY to interweave that supposedly “innocent” viewing with that whole fantasy sequence of Yoon-bok touching Jeong-hyang’s revealed body, and drawing her nekkid boobies? (Not that the Jeong-hyang we see is showing off her two little friends or anything…Mostly, I suspect, because the censors wouldn’t allow it. But that doesn’t stop ‘em from suggesting through the drawing that, logically, she IS nekkid here! Full-on Janet Jackson-esque boobage. Yee-haw!) This may be a muse-artist relationship, whatever. But just because someone’s your muse, it doesn’t mean that you can’t get all nice and cozy with them after the painting session’s over. Just sayin’.

And Jeong-hyang sure doesn’t seem to mind being touched!

All that being said, this is a really beautiful scene, quite tastefully and lovingly done, and, as Painter is wont to do, takes a very interesting approach to the blurring between reality and imagination.





Unfortunately for these two “non-lovers” (ha!), someone seems to have left the door to the room slightly ajar, and Jo-nyeon happens to glance in as he’s passing by. Stupefied by what he sees, he stops, opens the door a little wider, and does the whole Peeping Tom thing. His open look of lust as he stares at Jeong-hyang is more than a little creepy. Dude, how OLD are you?

Jeong-hyang gets the creepy vibes, and turns and sees him. Not at all taken aback or shocked (she is, after all, a kisaeng, and probably used to such grossness), she gently closes the door in his face.

The head kisaeng in charge of her has been watching Jo-nyeon watching Jeong-hyang for a while, and she takes this chance to go over and offer Jeong-hyang to him, if he wants her (for a price, of course). He acts like he doesn’t care, but we all know he’s a dirty little pervert at heart. He’s definitely coming back for her. Ewwwww.



In the meantime, Jeong-hyang is no longer nekkid (not that she technically ever was…), and asks Yoon-bok:

“Have I entered your painting now?”
Yoon-bok nods.
Jeong-hyang: “Then, if you pass the exam, can I live in only your heart now?”
Yoon-bok: “In…my heart?”
She hesitates, and then leans over and helps Jeong-hyang put on her jeogori (the top outer garment). It’s veeeerrrrrryyyyy sexual.
Yoon-bok: “What man could resist you? And…what man could take you so easily?”

COP-OUT! Oh, the hidden meanings behind her words!

But whatever. Jeong-hyang’s pleased and touched, obviously thinking that Yoon-bok’s one man who isn’t in this just for her body. Oy vey. Does Yoon-bok not realize how flirty she’s being? Does she not realize how much she may potentially be hurting Jeong-hyang by acting this way? OH MAN.







Jeong-jo’s alone in his room, and he takes out a case, which contains a bow. And then we get a flashback to his younger days! Hurrah! I’ve been waiting for this.

We see the young Jeong-jo practising archery with his father, Prince Sado. And then we see him begging his grandfather to save his father’s life. Jeong-soo watches, looking a little guilty. And then we see him, dressed in funeral robes, in his father’s room, and taking his father’s bow off its stand. Which I suppose is the same bow that Jeong-jo’s looking at now. And he says, as though to his father: “Please wait just a little bit longer.” OH HELLZ YEAH.





Yoon-bok’s skipping away from the kisaeng house, all happy and satisfied, and remembering what it was like to swing with Jeong-hyang (GAY!). Only, her happiness gets a little marred by the fact that, the painter sent to sabotage her finally takes this chance to knock her out from behind, steal her painting, and drop her down a well. Real classy, dude.





Young-bok is working at the Danchongso, and he winds up accidentally breaking what looks like a bowl full of paint powder. Heo Ock, Heo Shim’s granddaughter (you remember, the freaky old guy we saw in episode two…or was it one?), is looking on. She starts making some moves on him, and tells him that she has the keys to the storage room, where they can replace the bowl without anyone knowing. He asks her what he can do for her, and she tells him that, since she knows a secret of his, they should create a secret for him to know about her as well. So she goes up and smacks a big, fat, wet one on his lips. Uh, okay. Young-bok pushes her away, but she’s completely unembarrassed, and leads him off to the storage room. Girl, if you think a guy’s hot, just tell him so! Don’t sexually harrass people. Then again, unfortunately, he is just not that into you, so it’s kind of a lost cause.







Hong-do’s visiting the old abandoned home of Yoon-bok’s father (Jing), and as he sits, he remembers a young Yoon-bok, whom he seems to have been on very good terms with. Her real name is Seo Yoon, so her first name is just “Yoon”, not “Yoon-bok”.

Then we’re back to the Hong-do in the present, reminiscing sadly on all this. And he wonders, “Where are you, Yoon?”. Um, go look in a well near the kisaeng house, and you’ll find her. Kthxbai.





Speaking of Yoon-bok, she wakes up in the well, understandably confused, and with a twisted ankle. But it’s really only once she realizes her painting’s gone that she starts panicking, and screams for help. She even throws her things up, hoping someone will see.

A couple of guards hear her, but, jumping to the conclusion that they heard a ghost, and not a young student painter trapped in a well, they scurry off, like the cowards that they are. SO FRUSTRATING.



The painter/sabotageur goes to Byeok-soo, and hands over the painting. Byeok-soo rips it up into pieces, and also sets it on fire. It was agony to watch this scene. To destroy such a precious piece of art!! I think my soul just broke a little.





Hong-do sets out to look for Yoon-bok, worried because she hasn’t gone back to the Dohwaseo yet. He asks Jeong-hyang where she is, but Jeong-hyang doesn’t know either, so he sets out searching in earnest, calling out Yoon-bok’s name.

Thus follows an over-long and teeth-grinding scene in which Hong-do passes by the well, Yoon-bok calls out to him (but he doesn’t hear), he goes around to other places looking for her, and then, FINALLY, goes back to the well, where he encounters the two frightened guards. It’s while he’s talking to them that the three of them hear Yoon-bok’s cries for help, and Hong-do goes over to the well and finds her. About time!







He climbs down into the well, and instructs her to get on his back. She does so, reluctantly - I’m thinking she might be a little worried that he’ll feel her boobies (I would be!), and also, she feels the sparks that come from being in such close proximity to him.

So the two of them get out of the well, with some difficulty. (Note: I find it funny that there’s a frog in the well…a reference to that old fable, perhaps?) Once they’re out, Yoon-bok tells Hong-do that the painting’s gone, and that there’s no point in going back to the Dohwaseo. Hong-do tells her to try to go back to that time, to remember the scene. Anything at all will do - the sounds, the smell, the tastes. Once she remembers one thing, everything else will follow. And so she does.



Hong-do piggybacks her all the way back to the Dohwaseo, with Yoon-bok clinging on to that memory the whole time. They burst in with little time to spare. It’s the morning, and the exam ends at noon.





Yoon-bok spreads out the paper, and gets to work. (I love the way she envisions what she’s going to paint, and it all appears before her eyes, on the paper - much like the statue hidden in the marble, a la Michelangelo.)

Everyone gathers around to watch as she paints, shocked by the way she paints the women naked - or, at least, she paints their breasts, anyway. Because we all know that nipples are sooooo scandalous. Byeok-soo, ever the ass, grabs her by the back of her shirt, and drags her away, telling her she has no right to paint such things - and, no doubt, hoping that she won’t be able to finish the painting. Yoon-bok protests that she’s simply painting living, breathing people, exactly as they are. Byeok-soo doesn’t listen, but Hong-do stops him, yelling at him that she should get her chance to finish. Byeok-soo agrees, thinking that she won’t have enough time anyway, and that the painting will never pass under the scrutiny of the conservative judges in the end.







So Yoon-bok continues work on her painting. It’s amusing how everyone holds their breath as she prepares to paint the nipples red - and, frankly, I’m surprised they were allowed to show that in the drama at all. Maybe it’s okay because it’s “just” a painting? Or because it’s “high art”? Pfft. Censors have such double standards.

Time’s almost up, but Yoon-bok feels like she needs to add one more thing. So, at the last minute, she draws a couple of Peeping Toms, watching the ladies below. And it’s to my thinking that they represent Yoon-bok and Hong-do. Very clever. And thus we see the completed painting: Shin Yoon-bok’s masterpiece, “Scenery of Dano Day”.

And she’s done, just as time is up! Everyone rejoices, with Yoon-bok and Hong-do even jumping into each other’s arms in an ecstatic (and, later, embarrassing) embrace.





The judges are all together, looking at the paintings, and Byeok-soo forcefully criticizes Yoon-bok’s painting, saying it’s sinful, and that there’s too much colour in it (WTF?). Hong-do arrives, clearly unable to keep himself away, and asks why it’s so wrong to have so much colour in a painting. Byeok-soo adds that this painting makes the viewer’s heart move, and that that’s wrong. Hong-do yells at him for his stupidity, the two of them fight really loudly, and the judges tell Hong-do to leave, since he himself isn’t a judge. As he leaves, he yells, “The Dohwaseo has gone completely rotten!”. Anger management issues, much?

Ugh, what an annoying scene. Byeok-soo and the conservative viewpoints of the judges are really annoying, but Park Shin Yang’s OTT, War of Money-esque acting is annoying, too. This is one scene that made me wonder if I should pause the drama and just stop watching. That was how annoyed I was.





Anyway, the judges announce their pick - Hyo-won has been chosen to be elevated to the status of official painter. Everyone congratulates him, but the celebration is interrupted by the announcer adding that Yoon-bok, too, has passed the exam, for special reasons - a secret, 12th judge has approved her painting. Yoon-bok tears up, overjoyed, and everyone demands who this secret judge is who passed her. It is announced that that person was none other than King Jeong-jo himself. Shock! End episode.



ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS





This was definitely not my favourite episode (too many conventional story twists), but it was a nice one all the same, as all of Painter’s episodes have been, so far. We finally got to see a flashback regarding Jeong-jo’s past, and I admit I salivated the entire time. I want more scenes with Jeong-jo and Jeong-soon, dammit!

As for Park Shin Yang, as I mentioned earlier in this recap, his acting still bothers me at times. It’s like he doesn’t understand that acting like you’re in a cartoon simply doesn’t work for a drama like this one. Still, he can be charming in his own little way at times, and I like the way Hong-do and Yoon-bok’s relationship is developing. They have a believable chemistry to them. I just hope they don’t kiss or anything, because that would be a little grody. And I would be SO jealous of Park Shin Yang. (Kidding! I…think.)