A Brush Worthy of a Master
"......"
That aside — this white-haired old man has quite the presence.
He was unmistakably an elderly man with a head of white hair, yet the presence radiating from him as a person was considerable. It was the kind of bearing you typically only felt from a craftsman who had immersed himself in a single pursuit for decades on end.
The one placing the commission was probably this old man. Presence aside, more than anything, the two men's hands were far too different.
I set my empty coffee cup down on the table and conveyed my words through the translation app.
Yanagi looked briefly startled, then asked me.
Matsuoka...?
It was a name I felt like I'd seen somewhere before.
Who was it... Ah!
I remembered. He was the one who'd written the finest piece at that calligraphy museum I'd visited last time.
No wonder his presence wasn't ordinary...
As Yanagi tilted his head, Matsuoka, who had been listening quietly beside him, said something to Yanagi. A moment later, Yanagi relayed the words to me through the translation app.
I spread my own hands to show them as I spoke.
When Yanagi saw the translated message a moment later, he was startled. But Matsuoka himself, the man in question, showed little surprise. Instead, he nodded as if it all made perfect sense.
I returned to the matter at hand and asked them.
Seeing that, Master Matsuoka said a brief word to Yanagi. Yanagi looked momentarily flustered, then relayed his words to me exactly as spoken.
A good brush, huh...
It was the simplest request, and the most difficult. Objects with a clear purpose were actually easier to make — you just locked onto that direction and went. But in a case like this, the purpose wasn't clearly defined, which made finding a direction no small task.
In that case...
I posed one more question.
Matsuoka nodded.
A brush that can write good calligraphy.
Well. That was enough.
"Ah, before that..."
Come to think of it, I hadn't mentioned the cost.
Along with the translation app, I punched the amount I'd calculated into a calculator and showed it to them.
Yanagi saw the price and flinched. It was probably far more expensive than what he'd expected. But Master Matsuoka, sitting beside him, simply nodded as if it were of no concern at all.
I like that kind of no-nonsense attitude. Then again, a calligrapher of his standing would command truly staggering prices for a single work.
I made one last request of him.
At those words, both of them wore the most surprised expressions they'd shown at anything I'd said so far. Looking at them, I conveyed my words once more through the translation app.
Matsuoka closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded. He said something to Yanagi, who nodded in turn and pulled a brush and paper from his bag.
That's a decent brush. Still...
The brush Yanagi produced was certainly not a poor piece. But it wasn't a brush befitting a man like Matsuoka.
Master Matsuoka let out a deep sigh, picked up the brush, dabbed it roughly in ink, and began to write on the paper.
Swish.
Characters flowed onto the paper without the slightest hitch.
Ohh...
Remarkable. This was skill that would not be lacking even if you called him a true master. However...
There's a bit of a difference from the writing I saw at that calligraphy museum last time.
I thought I understood what it meant for a brush to not sit right in your hand.
He set the brush down and looked at me. I nodded to indicate that was enough.
They said they would be staying in Korea for a week. Master Matsuoka's wife had come along as well, though she hadn't visited the workshop, and the two of them would be remaining in the country for seven days. They would probably spend the time traveling around Korea.
I intended to finish the brush within that window and place it in Master Matsuoka's hands. Of course, I could always send it by courier after they returned home, but the best thing was to send them off with the finished piece already in their possession.
That said, I can't do it during regular hours...
First come, first served was a fundamental principle. I couldn't make an exception just because they'd come from abroad. But that principle only applied to regular hours. If I was carving out my own break time to do the work, that was a different story.
"Anyway — this should be the place."
And the place I'd come for after-hours work was none other than Insadong.
I wonder if they have it...
It was a weekday, but Insadong was fairly bustling. I'd heard tourist numbers had been climbing lately, and it didn't seem like empty talk. Countless antique shops lined the streets, along with stores selling snacks of every kind. But those weren't the places I was interested in.
Ah. There it is.
A brush specialty shop tucked deep into a corner of Insadong, with an old, faded sign that had long since lost its luster. I carefully opened the door and stepped inside, and the white-haired proprietor glanced at me. Then he turned his gaze back to the television he'd been watching, as if he couldn't care less.
It's not large, but...
The shop itself was certainly small. But it had been around for a very long time. A place like this was bound to have something decent.
I asked the proprietor who was watching TV.
"Sir. I came to buy some hair for a brush tip."
The old man flicked his gaze toward me.
"Brush tips? They're in the back over there."
He pointed a finger behind me. I glanced in the direction he indicated, then spoke to him again.
Nylon... Chinese weasel hair... This isn't what I'm looking for.
"Sir, what I'm looking for isn't cheap materials like these."
At the word "cheap," the old man's eyes widened a little.
"Cheap? How would a fellow like you know whether that's cheap or not? I'll have you know I selected those quite carefully!"
"Well... I'll grant that they're reasonably well-selected among inexpensive materials. But this isn't what I want."
The old man laughed as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Ahaha. What would a young fellow like you know about brushes, going on like that! Just pick something decent from what's there and buy it!"
Letting the old man's words go in one ear and out the other, I scanned the shop once more. And where my eyes stopped was none other than a paper envelope behind the counter where the old man sat.
"You're not selling that?"
"That? What are you..."
The old man looked where I was pointing and started in surprise.
"The hair inside that paper envelope."
I couldn't tell exactly what kind of hair it was, but it was clearly giving off a far better energy than the cheap stuff in the back.
The old man was silent for a moment, then asked me.
"You... how did you know about this."
I can hardly say I felt its energy...
I answered him with a reasonable excuse.
"Everything else is out on display, but that one's wrapped in an expensive-looking paper envelope, isn't it. It must be good material."
He let out a sigh and took out the paper envelope, then carefully withdrew what was inside.
Oh...
This was good. Looking at the condition of the hair, it was clearly sable. And not imported — it was the finest Domestic Sable Tail Hair, naturally degreased over decades.
"This is sable hair. Domestic, at that... it looks to be a good several decades old. This is something you can't even obtain anymore..."
As I described the hair, the old man's eyes grew even wider.
"Incredible... you took all that in at a glance?"
I answered with a look as if it were nothing.
"Yes... I handle all sorts of materials on a regular basis, so I've picked up a bit of miscellaneous knowledge."
The old man said, fingering the sable hair,
"That's right. As you said, this is tail hair from a sable caught several decades ago."
"Something that's impossible to obtain now."
"That's right. After the population declined, hunting itself was banned, and domestic sable tail hair is now virtually impossible to come by."
Well... sables are an endangered species...
"Sable tail hair is the finest material for a brush tip, so it's a shame."
"You... you know a thing or two."
"Isn't that obvious? Other high-grade materials like squirrel hair and goat hair are good too, but the best is still sable, isn't it? Especially sable hair that's been stored this well for decades, with all the oils drawn out — you couldn't ask for a better material for a brush tip."
At my words, the corners of the old man's mouth lifted as if he were pleased.
"I made a mistake earlier. These days young people go on about how nylon or new materials make no difference, but you know the real thing."
I asked the old man, whose mood had improved.
"Sir, would you sell me this sable hair?"
Sable hair like this was now virtually impossible to obtain. Even if you searched all of Insadong, there wouldn't be a better material than this.
But the old man shook his head.
"I'm sorry, but I can't do that. This sable hair is meant for a truly great calligrapher. I'm grateful you recognized its value, but you don't seem to be a calligrapher."
I answered the old man's words with a smile.
"Hahaha. If that's the case, then I believe I am the rightful owner of that sable hair."
"What do you mean by that? Are you a calligrapher?"
"No. I run a small workshop. And I've received a commission to make a brush."
"A brush commission? From whom."
I took a brief breath, then spoke the name.
I didn't know exactly how famous he was. But having seen his presence, I knew his skill was no ordinary thing. And that was more than enough for the title of "great calligrapher" the old man spoke of.
And just as I'd expected, the old man froze on the spot at the name Matsuoka Genjiro. A moment later, having collected himself, he asked me.
"Matsuoka Genjiro... you mean the Matsuoka Genjiro I know, from Japan? Master Matsuoka, Japan's greatest calligrapher!?"
I nodded.
"Yes. It's a work commissioned by the Master Matsuoka you know."
"Is that true...? You're not lying — Master Matsuoka really commissioned you to make a brush?"
"Yes, of course."
The old man put the sable hair that had been out back into the paper envelope. Then he placed the paper envelope in a fine box and handed it to me.
"Here. Take it."
"Thank you! Then, as for the money..."
He waved a hand.
"No need for money!"
"No, even so, sable hair this precious..."
"It's not for just anyone — it's a brush Master Matsuoka will use, isn't it. As a brush shop owner, if I can play a part in making his brush, there's no greater joy. Take as much of this sable hair as you like!"
I tried once more to tell him to take the money, but the old man was firm. I had no choice but to offer my thanks one last time and leave the shop.
"Thank you. I'll make the very finest brush with this sable hair."