Scenario:Gabriel - Self-Portrait
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
Self-Portrait
Looking to submit a painting of her own to the Sazak Open Art Exhibition, Gabriel seeks the help of the renowned painter Leon Mondune, who dismisses her work as lacking pathos, recommending she model instead. Gabriel rejects his suggestion and decides to continue devoting herself to painting, but struggles to find her own pathos.
Gabriel: What to do, what to do. I'd love it if I could make up my mind on what to paint...
Brush in hand, Gabriel sits in front of a blank canvas, troubled.
Gabriel: If I'm going to challenge myself, I want to try being creative with the subject matter. But I don't want to break any established rules.
Gabriel: My, it's awfully sunny out. Is it that time already? I know just what I need to help me think...
The sun's gentle rays brighten the street as it moves just past its peak on a warm autumn day.
Gabriel sits at a wall-side table in Uriel's Kitchen—a cozy restaurant in the town of Sazak—and delights in a bowl of stew.
Gabriel: Mmm! The flavor is so tender and tasty!
Gabriel: Excellent as usual, Uriel! Did you use different ingredients this time?
Uriel: You betcha! I threw a bunch of mushrooms into this batch! Raphael brought them over from his farm.
Raphael: Strictly speaking, they are not from my farm. I purchased some woodland nearby where I am trying my hand at cultivating mushrooms on logs.
Uriel: O-on logs? Ah, well, who cares about the details, right? What matters is you made them.
Uriel: Though I suppose we don't "make" anything anymore. We just make the most of what nature provides.
Gabriel: Hehe. Sounds like you two are living fulfilling lives—one a terrific chef, and the other a dedicated farmer.
As Uriel busies himself with meal preparations next to Gabriel, Raphael arranges the vegetables and brings up a certain person missing from their chat.
Raphael: All we are missing is Michael, who has started studying at an acting school. She mentioned she would be conducting research for a role today.
Uriel: Say, Gabriel, aren't you painting something for an event? Um, what was it again...
Gabriel: I am, for the Sazak Open Art Exhibition. Well, I'm trying to, but it's a lot harder than I thought it'd be...
Following the conflict, the primarchs decided to live among mortals in Sazak, and dedicate their time to worldly pursuits.
Gabriel, having gained an interest in art after dabbling as an art model, now lives the life of an aspiring painter.
Raphael: An open exhibition... Is there a selection process to determine which works will be displayed?
Gabriel: There is. It's vastly different from the Sazak Festival exhibition. For that, they just put up whatever you give them.
Uriel: Wow, I can't believe there's a whole process to choose which paintings are shown... Sounds super professional.
Gabriel: There's a lot of tradition behind the event. I heard they were much more strict about what got through in the past.
Gabriel: These days they're mostly concerned about works that could offend public sensibilities. I'm sure it'll be okay, but I can't help worrying about it, you know?
Raphael: Have you decided on a subject? Make a goal and a fair wind may blow you right where you want to go.
Gabriel: Not yet. There's also the rules that I'm concerned about.
Gabriel reaches into her pocket and pulls out a poster detailing the exhibition's submission requirements.
The trio attempt to go over the prerequisites, but their attention is quickly drawn to the picture taking up the entire flyer.
Uriel: Whoa, check out that painting! It's unreal.
Raphael: Countless birds falling through the night sky, their wings—their freedom—stolen from them. A dreadful sight, indeed.
Gabriel: "The Night the Birds Fell." It's a very famous painting.
Gabriel: A work as cheerless as it is breathtaking. Captivating, isn't it?
Entranced by its dark beauty, they stare at it for a while before directing their eyes to the flyer's text.
Uriel: Let's see... It says the theme is portraits. So they want people to paint pictures of... people?
Gabriel: That's not all they're looking for. They want the applicant's work to capture the essence of the subject while integrating surreal elements...
Raphael: Say no more, I understand what you need now. How about something blusterous, like this?
Raphael: ...
Uriel: Um, Raphael? Why're you standing like a hero with a tomato in your hand?
Raphael: Is it not obvious? I am modeling.
Raphael: This tomato is my essence. Go on, Gabriel. Paint away.
Uriel: Oh boy... What do you think, Gabriel?
Gabriel: You know, I could work with that!
Uriel: You're joking!
Gabriel: Okay, maybe not. Sorry, Raphael, but I'll need some time to think over the subject matter and how I want to express it. Is that okay?
Raphael: Very well. Do call on me if you find yourself in need of a helping hand.
Disheartened, Raphael breaks his pose and goes back to arranging the vegetables.
Uriel: Well, anyway... I don't know squat about art, but you can count on me if you ever need a tasty meal!
Gabriel: Hehe, don't worry about me. I'm not letting myself think about it too much.
Gabriel: If I manage to complete something by the deadline, I'll submit it for evaluation.
Gabriel: I'm taking it nice and easy. At the end of the day, I'm just a beginner who paints for fun.
Uriel: Paintings and deadlines... Why does this all sound so familiar?
Uriel: Ah, right!
Uriel nods emphatically and points to the open seat next to Gabriel.
Uriel: One of my regulars who's an old-timer is a painter himself. He always sits right here.
Raphael: Ah, yes, the elderly gentleman. He was planning to submit a work of his own to the exhibition, I believe.
Uriel: Want me to introduce you to him? Who knows, he might teach you some things. Plus making a painting buddy could be good for you, you know?
Gabriel: Wow, could you? Talking to a professional would be a fantastic experience.
Gabriel: But... are you sure it'd be all right? I wouldn't want to be a bother.
Uriel: Wouldn't hurt to ask, right? Just leave it to me.
Uriel pounds his thick chest and flashes his pearly whites to assure Gabriel that everything will be fine.
After getting permission from his regular, Uriel contacts Gabriel to give her the okay. A few days later, she arrives at the painter's studio.
Gabriel: Is this it? It's an impressive residence.
Uriel: He said not to knock and just go in. Apparently, he doesn't want the noise to disturb any of his neighbors.
Gabriel: I suppose that makes sense since it's in the middle of a residential area. I wonder if he gets a lot of visitors?
Curious but apprehensive, Gabriel nervously pushes the white door open. Once inside, she makes herself known.
Gabriel: Hello? My name is Gabriel. You may have heard about me from Uriel?
Painter: Hm?
In the heart of a spacious room, an Erune man, who had been painting, pulls his attention away from his canvas to look at Gabriel.
The moment his eyes land on her, he drops his brush.
Painter: G-goodness! My dear, you have the elegance of an immaculate stream deep in the woods, the mien of a goddess...
Painter: It is you... You are the model I have been looking for!
Gabriel: I-I'm sorry?
Painter: You would look stunning with your hands around your neck. Should we make your blood the color of your hair? No, perhaps it would be better if we—
Gabriel: Sorry to get your hopes up, but I'm not a model, at least not anymore. I'm an aspiring painter.
Painter: Hm? You are a painter? A dazzling beauty such as yourself? How absurd...
As the artist stands before her in a stupor, Gabriel surveys the studio.
Gabriel: (He's got a canvas set up in the center of the room, shelves against the walls, a workstation... He seems organized.)
Gabriel: (What are those on his desk? Maybe design ideas and sketches?)
Gabriel: Oh!
Of the many pictures on his workstation, one in particular catches Gabriel's eye.
Gabriel: "The Night the Birds Fell..." Are you tracing it to study? You know, I've been doing the same—
Painter: Would that there were anything to study. I am the one that created it.
Gabriel: What?
Painter: What you see on my desk are drafts I sketched during the ideation stage.
Gabriel takes a closer look and discovers a number of famous works line the desk—works well known even to novices like herself.
Gabriel: N-no... So you're...
Leon: Yes. Leon Mondune, artist and painter.
Gabriel: Y-you're Master Leon? Oh gosh, it really is you!
Gabriel: (I can't believe it. It's Leon Mondune, the Magus of Melancholy, the world famous painter extraordinaire in the flesh!)
Gabriel: (It's said his work could even move beasts to tears. He's a true genius capable of stirring the soul through his art.)
Gabriel: (No wonder he gets so many visitors! Oh, none of this would've happened if I just asked Uriel for his regular's name first!)
Leon: Ah, right, I almost forgot. Uriel mentioned an aspiring painter would be paying me a visit. You must be her.
Gabriel: I'm so sorry, Master Leon! I didn't mean to come off as rude.
Leon: It is quite all right. Considering Uriel's culinary talent, I suppose I can bring myself to look past something so minor.
Gabriel: ?
Leon: So you have come to learn about painting, is that right?
Gabriel: Would... Would you be willing to teach me?
Leon: One feels immense pain when they are punched, do they not?
Gabriel: S-sorry, I don't think I follow?
Leon: My apologies. What I mean is yes, of course I would.
Leon: All right, first let us have a look at how you paint. How about you paint me a self-portrait?
Leon: I will give you until the end of the day to finish it. You are free to use any of the materials on the shelves; mirrors, brushes, what have you.
Gabriel ruminates over the task as she gazes at herself in the mirror.
Gabriel: (A self-portrait... Should I just paint myself as I am?)
Gabriel: (I'm not sure what I should do. I guess I'll just do what my heart tells me.)
Gabriel: (Oh, it looks a little unbalanced. But instead of fixing it, maybe I can use the distortion to my advantage...)
Gabriel: Hehe!
Leon: ...
Gabriel: There, all done.
The sun has fallen by the time Gabriel finishes her painting. Feeling accomplished, she puts her brush down and shows her self-portrait to Leon.
Leon: Hmm...
Leon: This is the first time you have painted a self-portrait, correct? Did you struggle?
Gabriel: Quite a bit, yes. But as taxing as it was, I had fun.
Leon: ...
Leon: You have a fantastic sense for color. The way you employ it is simple, yet elegant. Distinctive.
Leon: I can tell you have a good grasp on the structure of your own face as well. I also see a purposeful use of distortion, which is indeed very imaginative.
Gabriel: Thank you. By challenging myself to do something different, I thought I'd—
Leon: You have no talent for painting. I suggest you reconsider submitting any of your work to the open exhibition.
Gabriel: Huh?
Gabriel's mouth falls open, dumbfounded by Leon's nonchalant advice.
Gabriel: N-no talent? I only just started painting, how could I—
Leon: Talent is a quality that is most apparent at the start.
Leon: When it rains, the ground becomes wet, does it not?
Gabriel: Is that your way of telling me my lack of artistic ability is obvious? That I would be better off breaking my brush?
Leon: You would be doing yourself a service. It would be impossible for you to make a living off painting.
Gabriel: Make a living?
Gabriel: I think there's a misunderstanding between us. I don't paint for money. I paint because I enjoy it. It's my hobby.
Leon: ...
Leon: The Sazak Open Art Exhibition is where artists display works made with profound dedication and desperation in the hope of attracting patrons.
Leon: Wealth, fame, and status are the goals. It is an arena where artists seize glory.
Leon: You will not find a single piece made by an artist that paints for fun.
Gabriel: !
Leon: Oh, again I must apologize. I understand the barrier to entry for painting is quite low these days. I got carried away in my references to the old standards.
Leon: That said, my sentiment remains the same. Even at my level, I must steel myself to continue submitting works to the exhibition.
As Gabriel takes in everything Leon has to say, she confronts him with an unyielding gaze.
Gabriel: You're right. I don't have the determination of a professional painter.
Gabriel: But is that all art's about? Wealth, fame, and status?
Gabriel: Is there no place in this world for art born from enjoyment?
Leon: There is nothing wrong with art for amusement's sake. But art at the exhibition is not only viewed, it is compared.
Leon: You will learn quickly that talent is everything.
Leon: And that the most fitting reward for having it is always wealth, fame, and status.
Leon turns from Gabriel to give her painting another close look.
Leon: What I am about to tell you is the truth. If it hurts to hear, you are welcome to stop me.
Leon: First, your self-portrait lacks pathos. It is absent of any passion, any desire to paint the subject.
Gabriel: What!
Leon: Self-portraiture is how an artist depicts their self, yet I see not a drop of isolation, bitterness, or even strong emotion. Just brushstrokes on canvas.
Leon: It presents itself as a piece made by the rich for whom art is just a hobby. Do you expect anyone to be moved by this?
Gabriel: Ngh!
Leon's comments hit Gabriel like a ton of bricks. Her vision twists.
Leon: Talent is an overflowing force. Pathos spills from the art of a true prodigy. It is striking, terribly obvious even to laymen.
Leon: Technique can be adjusted, but individuality, the root of innovative ideas and expressions... well, nothing can be done about that.
Leon: That is not to say I see something in your technique either. On the contrary, while your use of color is elegant, it is mediocre.
Leon: And your idea to incorporate your accident into the piece, while commendable, shows your lack of planning.
Gabriel: ...
Leon: Now what you do have a discernable talent for, however, is modeling. How about putting your abundance of beauty to use instead?
Gabriel: No. Nothing in the sky interests me more than painting.
Gabriel: I take great pleasure in freely depicting the magnificent scenery of this world as I see fit.
Leon: What a terrible pity. Unfortunately, talent is not something one can choose to have.
Leon: I will not spurn painting as a hobby. And, despite my harsh words, I do not intend to stop you from submitting a work to the exhibition.
Leon: I have no qualms teaching you what I know about painting as a token of appreciation toward Uriel and his talent in the kitchen.
Leon: But you should know...
Leon picks up a brush, turns to his canvas, and begins to paint.
Sounds of his brush sweeping across the canvas continue for a while. When he finally runs out of breath, he takes a seat.
Leon: This is who I am.
Soon after leaving Leon's studio, Gabriel sits on a bench, deep in her own thoughts.
Gabriel: (I can't get my mind off of Master Leon's self-portrait...)
Gabriel: (A picture of a frail, elderly man, with bloody tears streaming down his sickly lilac face...)
Gabriel: (Screaming in agony as he snaps his paintbrush...)
Gabriel: (The overwhelming intensity I felt, that was Master Leon's pathos... It was the work of a consummate professional.)
Feeling demoralized, Gabriel sighs and hides her face in her hands.
Man: U-um, hello? You doing all right, miss?
Gabriel: ...
Man: What am I saying, of course you aren't! Obviously something bad happened to you! If you don't mind talking to a former child prodigy about it, I'm all ear—
Gabriel: Ugh, I can't believe him!
Man: Wah!
Gabriel: Hm? Was someone just here?
Gabriel looks around to make doubly sure nobody's near before clenching her fists.
Gabriel: He thinks talent is everything. That art made from a place of enjoyment is meaningless. That I'd make a better model than a painter.
Gabriel: Well, to that I say, so what?
Gabriel: I've found my calling and it's painting! I don't care what he says, I'm going to paint what I want... and submit it to the open exhibition!
After belting out her resolve to no one in particular, Gabriel takes another look at her self-portrait.
Gabriel: ...
Gabriel: But first... I need to figure out what sentiment I want to depict in my art.
Gabriel: The screaming, the agony in Master Leon's self-portrait... Where does it all come from?
The haunting figure of the frail man snapping his brush endures in Gabriel's head.
As if shaking herself free from the image, she stands up and hurries home while mulling over her own painting.