Genre: Angst, Art, Historical, Tragedy

Summary: Follow Professor Ahn Yujin and Curator Kim Minjoo through the recount of a person’s journey through a myriad of colours of love, canvases and a relationship all within the journal entries binded to the spine of the one journal in relation to two death masks and numerous paintings sent in with unfinished silhouettes against a resplendent background.

Word Count: 8521

Hashtag: #JinjooFiestaS2_TheDeathMask

The Death Mask

2.15 P.M, 14 June 2020

The black heels clattered seamlessly, in a rhythmic pattern against the white marble of the lobby of Palazzo Vecchio located in Florence, Italy. Or to be more exact, between Piazza del Duomo and the Arno River. 

Sunlight seeped through the two-lighted gothic windows which had withheld numerous centuries of the historical past.

The owner of the black heels then stopped suddenly when she received a message on her electronic gadget.

FROM: Professor Ahn Yujin of Harvard University 

Good afternoon, curator of Palazzo Vecchio, I would like to apologise for announcing my short notice. It just seemed like my university has decided to reschedule the flight to a later date due to the request of my students. So if possible, could you accommodate me for an evening tour round the walls of Palazzo Vecchio? Once again, I would like to apologise for this sudden request. 

TO: Professor Ahn Yujin of Harvard University

It would be my pleasure to be your host for the evening. Please remember to tell the guard on duty for the evening, Miss Choi Yena, that you are allowed to visit for the evening. I anticipate your arrival for the evening to come.

Just as the curator was about to take a step out of the one of the winding corridors of the old town hall of Florence, another notification popped up on her phone again.

FROM: Professor Ahn Yujin of Harvard University

Thank you for accommodating me for the evening to come, curator of Palazzo Vecchio. I would roughly arrive at 7 o’clock in the evening unless the evening traffic down here at Ponte alle Grazie becomes worse. But I would like to thank you for accommodating me once again on such a short notice, at that.

TO: Professor Ahn Yujin of Harvard University

It will be a pleasure to bring around an avid admirer of such magnificent artworks and someone who enlightens young minds on the history of art so I do anticipate your arrival. It would be understandable if you come a bit later for I understand how the evening traffic down at Ponte alle Grazie is. Grazie.

And with that, the curator of Palazzo Vecchio moved forward to a meeting she had with one of the stakeholders, in roughly an hour, who was willing to invest a larger sum of money to the preservation of several artifacts.

She smiled to herself, anticipating the arrival of the statuesque professor, who had adorable, deep dimples which she thought could hold the waters of Arno river which ran through Florence, Italy.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

7.00 P.M, 14 June 2020

“Buona Sera, Miss Choi. I am Professor of History of Art at Harvard University, Miss Ahn Yujin.” Yujin said as she held out a firm hand to the security guard who stood firmly on her ground.

“Oh, you must be the ‘attractive’ professor that Miss Curator was talking about earlier. But never mind that now, come in under the shelter of Palazzo Vecchio. I’m sure the evening traffic must have taken a toll on you.” The guard chuckled to herself, scanning the identification card flashed out by the gentlewoman in front of her who wore horn rimmed glasses and was clad in an olive turtleneck which was paired with a khaki overcoat. 

To top off the professor's fashion, she had it paired with tapered, wheat coloured pants along with pecan loafers.

“No, it wasn’t much of a hassle for I managed to catch a couple minutes of sleep on my way here. But I thank you for looking out for my well-being.” The professor’s dimple sticking out on her clear, slightly tanned face as she pushed up the spectacles which were making its way down sneakily on her nose bridge.

“So that’s the dimple she mentioned.” Yena mumbled to herself, while staring up intently at the towering professor who was walking alongside her on their way to the curator’s office.

“What do you mean by ‘dimple’, Miss Choi?” Yujin said, curiosity stretched across her face.

“Well, the curator of the museum mentioned a professor that dropped by for a tour. Being cute and rather breathtaking in her own opinion. But it seems pretty rare for her to comment on a person instead of the numerous artworks on display here. Anyways, it seems like we have reached her office. Have fun on your little date with her!” The guard jovially laughed.

Yujin could feel a furious blush creep up her cheek as she tried to stammer out her words, losing her collected nature along the way.

“I think you misunderstand Miss Choi. This is merely another opportunity for me to have a look round the various galleries here since it would be a long time before I get to see these artwork.”

“Or do you mean admire another artwork in the name of the curator of Palazzo Vecchio.” Yena said, wiggling her brown eyebrows.

“Well, in my opinion- “

The door leading to the curator’s office suddenly opened.

“Guard Choi, what’s this ruckus right outside of my doorstep? Oh, Miss Ahn Yujin, you seem to have come right on time.” The curator extended a slender hand out for the professor who was left staring mindlessly, staring at the artwork in front of her.

And with that, the guard gave a playful nudge on the professor’s back with her baton and stepped back innocently.

Fortunately for Yujin, the pecan loafers held her steady as she held out a hand to shake the curator’s hand.

“Buona Sera, it is such a pleasure to meet you once again, Miss Curator.” Yujin said smartly as she heard the guard walk away howling with laughter down the winding gallery.

“Well, Miss Ahn Yujin, kindly ignore Miss Choi’s behaviour for she tends to carry herself away at times. Also, do mind if you drop the formalities. We have met before so I think it’ll be safe for you to call me Kim Minjoo, or Minjoo to be simple.”

“Can’t I just call you my artwork that I would examine all over and display proudly for everyone to see.” Yujin thought as she opened to speak.

“To make it fair, I think it would be certainly fine for you to call me Yujin, Minjoo.” The professor slid her hand out of the now loosened grasp of the curator as she adjusted her glasses which were making its way down on her nose bridge again.

“I think that settles it then. Would you like to proceed on with your evening tour, Yujin?”

“Yes, please. Lead the way, Miss Kim Minjoo and tell me more about the fascinating history behind these paintings and sculptures.”

“And do mind if you can tell me more about yourself along the way, Miss Kim Minjoo.” Yujin said, her heart skipping a beat when the curator smiled softly at her response.

And with that, the professor and the curator walked down the Salone dei Cinquecento or better known as ‘Hallway of the Five Hundred’.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

8.15 P.M. 14 June 2020

“Well, what we have here are two new death masks, donated to us by an anonymous stakeholder. We only received a note stating that the death masks are to be displayed alongside something we are to receive a few days later. And with that, the managing team has also received a book that you see right in front of us here, a few days later. Or in my opinion, the journal of one of the owners of the death mask.”

“A journal, you say? How intriguing?” Yujin cut Minjoo’s words suddenly, to which she responded.

“Yes, but it seems to have been perfectly preserved by whichever generation of family that held it. But the content seems to be rather interesting. It seems like both owners of the respective death masks have a rather intriguing relationship”

“What do you mean by?” Yujin said, eager to uncover more.

“Well, I can take the book out of its case if you’d want to see more of it. I can tell you more about the contents of the journal too along the way.”

“That would be wonderful indeed, Minjoo. Do you mind if I hold your purse so it wouldn’t get in the way?” The professor said, displaying a dimpled smile along the way as her gentlewoman nature appeared.

The pair blushed in a similar cherry tone on their cheeks as their fingers collided with each other as Minjoo handed her purse over to Yujin.

“Thank you.” The curator whispered softly as she proceeded to slid over a pair of surgical gloves on her slender fingers.

A click was heard as the Minjoo did an iris scanner check after she typed in the passcode into a hidden panel, beside the glass case holding the book which was settled stiffly on a metal stand.

“Mind if you slip on the pair of gloves I gave you earlier cause I don’t think two hands are enough to hold a book and two death masks.” 

“And I don’t think two hands are enough to hold my heart which is dropping with each and every passing second over this breathtaking artwork right in front of me. Even the Mona Lisa down at the Louvre Museum could not even compare to her beauty.” Yujin thought silently.

Yujin gave a warm smile in response and slung the purse on her shoulder, and adjusted her glasses perched on her nose and took out the plastic gloves from one of the pockets in her overcoat.

She then received the ancient journal from Minjoo to which she was surprised at the mere weight of the book which almost felt like a feather in her hand despite it having a leatherback and rough outer appearance.

“Wow, how light is this book exactly, Minjoo?”

“It’s pretty heavy though at roughly three and a half kilograms. You must work out a lot for it to feel rather light to you.” Minjoo’s eyebrows raised in question.

“Oh. It’s just a couple of laps around the swimming pool back at Harvard and the occasional jog every now and then. It’s not that much. But it does keep my rather voracious appetite in check. Say, mind if you can recommend me plenty of restaurants I can dine in and with a rather magnificent scenery.” Yujin replied curtly.

Minjoo then moved on to unlock the other case which contained the two death masks settled comfortably on two velvet cushions, separately.

“Well, I do have plenty in mind. And maybe you can enjoy your food with this view right in front of you, right now.” She replied in response to Yujin’s question.

“Oh, I would love that, Signora Kim.” Yujin replied cheekily.

“I see you’re well adapting with the language here, Signora Ahn.” Minjoo laughed heartily in return while proceeding to remove the two masks.

“So these two masks you see right in front of you are linked to the journal you are holding in your hands right now. Do you understand what the title translates to?”

“It says ‘Mi Manchi’ and I can roughly say it means ‘I miss you’.” Yujin said looking up through her horn rimmed glasses, rather curiously at the curator who was wearing a rather proud smile.

“Bingo. As expected from a professor of the history of art.”

“But who is the person that the author of the journal is missing?”

“Well, you might want to add another question, ‘What’ too in your question since the author didn’t seem to mention just a person in her entries. And to add a bit more fuel to your fire of curiosity, the two death masks sent to us are of two rather beautiful women, which is considered to be divine during that era, which has been noted to be of the Late Middle Ages. So can you perhaps draw any conclusion from that, Professor Ahn?”

“Well, I’m not really sure but maybe they were lovers but I hadn’t read the words in the journal so maybe, it would better explain the title and of who, what or even where the author missed to be in. It could even be a moment, ‘when’ the author missed something or ‘how’ she missed that something. But do take the lead in telling me more about this history.”

“I’ll get there soon once I get the table out.”

“What table?” Yujin said curiously as she watched Minjoo press a part of the wall and a little handle popped out of the wall, in which Minjoo pulled upon and twisted to present a simple glossy, mahogany table.

“The hell? That’s pretty cool.” 

“For someone teaching the history of art, you don’t seem to be well versed in advanced technology nowadays.”

“Oh no no. It’s just that other museums I’ve visited, the curators would usually get a foldable table hidden in those broom closets.”

“Well, I think these museums that you have visited may have to step up their game. Anyways, I think you can set these masks and the book down. And I can begin with the journal entries. I’m afraid it might be till midnight till we go through a few notable entries in this journal and a few of my own personal favourites too. Are you fine with that, Yujin?” Minjoo looked at the professor suddenly which caused Yujin to look away, with a slight reddish tint evident on her cheeks for Yujin swore her eyes had been blessed by a real-life painting that had stepped out of its frame to manifest itself into the name of Kim Minjoo.

“I would love to stay with you every second, minute, hour and day with you. But only if my cowardly heart can choose to confess their yearning feelings to you.” Yujin said inwardly.

“Certainly. It will be fine with me. You may proceed with the story.”

“Alright, then. Do keep your ears open for I won’t repeat what I said again.”

And with that, the curator of Palazzo Vecchio began to flawlessly translate the Italian words of the first entry written into one of the numerous parchments blinded tightly to the spine of the rough, leatherback journal into English for the Professor of History of Art.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Mi Manchi

Property of Valentina

1 September 1480

To start off this magnificent book that my parents have gifted me with for my fourteenth birthday, which is indeed today. I will regard this book as something that I will record my feelings or any troubles just like how papa said to do so. Well, I don’t really believe that writing down my feelings could possibly suffice for all my flowing pool of thoughts just like how the clear Arno river flows. Anyways, mama cooked my favourite dish, risotto al nero di seppia. That dish is just simply marvellous since it melts right in my melt and the slightly salty taste of the sea from the chewy cuttlefish and the black sour squid ink just amplifies its taste. 

Anyways, I think that’s enough talk about food. Maybe, I should become a cook when I grow older since papa said that women belong to the kitchen and only the house and men are to go outside and serve the country with their rogue nature and brute strength. I beg to differ because I think mama is able to teach me a lot of things beyond what papa tries to instill in me regarding his negative political views on the opposition party. Anyways, it’s getting late and the ink I have left for the week is down to half a bottle. I’ll perhaps continue when I get a new bottle of ink.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

8.48 P.M. 14 June 2020

“Risotto al nero di seppia? Isn’t that risotto with cuttlefish and squid ink? I had that when I first arrived here in Italy and I think it would certainly be something perfect to have on one’s birthday.” Yujin interrupted abruptly after Minjoo had finished translating the first entry

“Oh, you enjoy it too?”

“Yes. I think the way she described it would be the way I would choose to describe it.” Yujin removed her glasses to wipe a few stray fingerprints on the lenses.

“That’s wonderful to hear since it’s also my favourite dish from my favourite restaurant. Maybe, perhaps after we have gone through this journal we can grab a bite of it. How about that?”

“That would be lovely to have, Signora Kim. Do continue on, please.”

“You’d never stop with the ‘Signora’, won’t you Professor Ahn? Anyways, I’ll get on it.”

And with that, Kim Minjoo continued narrating the words of the various journal entries into a sweet lullaby for Ahn Yujin.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

8 September 1480

I got a fresh new bottle of ink and obviously the first I’ll do is write about my feelings. Anyways, mama had told me to welcome our new neighbours with a fruit basket just yesterday. And, I could have sworn someone even more beautiful than what those ancient Greek people would have described their ‘Aphrodite’ as,  greeted me. She was not that much taller than me but my beauty cannot certainly match with hers. I failed to catch her name though since she just quietly accepted the fruit basket and closed the door in my face. Maybe she is just shy or is she a servant? But either way, I’ll get to know of her name sooner or later before papa comes down to talk business with the new owners of the house next door.

Apart from my encounter from the beautiful girl, the sunset today was something else. I like how the warm amber, orange and bronze hues blended well over the various dark colours of the houses. If only I had hands fast enough to paint this memory of a sunset setting over my hometown. But mama always said to never rush the things that I loved to do or it won’t come out perfectly like how the lumpy dough rises to a thick and fluffy one after a few hours to make a wonderful pita. I think I’ll end this entry since I am getting terribly sleepy and I need to be up early to await the arrival of a few important guests of papa’s.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

21 December 1480

My last entry was nearly a month ago but I was busy with learning about the stars and how the world revolves around the idea of physics, maths and science. I hate physics as much as I hate papa. They both enforce laws that I have to strictly follow to give an expected outcome with no room for any other suggestions or any other outcomes. I very much prefer the arts for I have much more freedom in expressing