My Pick Up Artist System

Chapter 299 What is art?

Chapter 299 What is art?

After Darryl received high scores from the judges, Charlotte noticed Ben tapping his foot like he was playing the kick drum in a metal band, and she knew the result was a blow to his confidence.

She’d seen him perform miracles, ones that even shocked her to this day. However, she also knew he started photography only two weeks ago. So how could he defeat Darryl in this competition? She had little confidence in Ben to begin with, and, even less in herself.

In fact, the thought of her picture going up and being torn apart again terrified her. Yet, she still agreed to participate, acting as his model and coming here to have the audience muddy her with inevitable ridicule, because although she didn’t believe in herself, he believed in her, and that, was more than enough for her to endure the humiliation.

That’s why at this moment, she cast her fears aside, and tried to encourage Ben instead. "It doesn’t matter if we lose. It’s just a nonsense competition."

Ben turned to her with a confused expression. "Lose? Why would we lose?"

...

Charlotte blinked. "Darryl just got such a high score. Aren’t you worried about losing after boasting so much? You’ve been tapping your foot out of nervousness."

Ben glanced down at his foot and laughed. "Nervousness? I was imagining stomping on that redhead’s face!"

...

Charlotte facepalmed. ’Why do I keep falling for it?’

...

Ben wasn’t too concerned. It’s true Darryl got a high score, but it wasn’t like he received all tens. Who’d win and who’d lose was still uncertain, and although everyone praised Darryl’s photo, after Ben saw it, he became even more confident of his victory.

So after the judges reviewed a few more entrants’ pictures, a new photo came up on the screen, one that made Charlotte go wide-eyed... Indeed, it was her, but in such a style...that it was difficult for even her to recognize herself!

The photo revealed a pure young lady, a girl next door type with glasses and soft timid features, wearing a blue dress amongst a background of trees, grass, and a car blowing exhaust in the distance. Her cheeks were blushing, displaying the natural innocence of a youth frightened by her exposure to the camera, and to a greater extent--her exposure to the world itself.

The picture was a wonderful rendition of Charlotte. It made the core qualities of her usual appearance and temperament shine through, forcing all the men in the audience to think the same thing: this was a girl they could bring home to mom; delicate, cute, and with a nurturing nature. So why was this girl showing the camera the middle finger?

...

In the photo, her face bent in an uncharacteristic punk-rock expression. With her mouth half-open like she was cursing at you, the right side of her lip lifted higher than the other causing one eye to partially close in a fierce glare like it couldn’t stand the sight of your stupid face.

...

What, the hell, was this?

...

Darryl was the first to sneer and comment on the picture. "Such an awkward expression. Ridiculous!" That guy wanted to beat him with this? How could it compare to his photo? This girl looked absurd! There was no refined sexiness here, nothing sleek, nothing alluring. What was that photographer even thinking?

Darryl looked around to seek consensus from the audience, yet it stunned him to find, that not a single person responded to his words. No, not a single person even looked at him! Because they were all still staring at the photo!

The entire audience was baffled, stupefied, and amazed! They’d never seen anything like this! And they couldn’t take their eyes off it!

Was Charlotte a beauty who could be on the cover of Maxim? No! But they were photographers, and photography wasn’t only about capturing symmetrical beauty, but also wonder, energy and essence; the kind that only revealed itself in fleeting glimpses! The kind that gave photos their magic in the first place!

Photos needed charisma, passion, and theme! They needed to make you stare! To make you think! To make you feel alive!

To show you, that there was more to this world than met the eye. More to your life than wake-work-eat-sleep-die...

And if a photo could do that...then and only then—-was it true art!

...

For almost a full minute after Darryl’s outburst, no one said a word. The redhead also sat down, burying himself in his chair. Although he didn’t understand what was so special about this photo, he did recognize that the state of the room was unusual, simmering, like a pot of water as it reached the boiling point. Still, it didn’t mean this was photo was any good. ’They’re probably stunned speechless by the poor quality and getting ready to erupt...’

So when the first judge, a middle-aged woman, stood up, gazing at the photo without blinking, Darryl smirked. Yet, as she gave her critique, he tilted his head in confusion to such a degree that he almost broke his neck...as if shifting the angle of his ear would somehow change what he was hearing...

The judge’s hand shook as she pointed to the photo. "This is...this is...how did he do it?"

She continued to stare in silence for a few seconds, only regaining her composure after realizing she was a judge and needed to do her duty here. So after a deep breath, at last, she gave a proper critique. "The technical skills are amongst the best of the entrants so far. I have nothing to add."

Hearing this, Darryl scowled. ’She’s saying that guy’s as good as me?’ However, the next part is what really turned him into a J-horror ghost...

The judge swallowed, taking a moment to choose her words with care. "Yet, the technique pales in comparison to the other aspects of the photograph...

The energy, the charisma--they’re magnetic! You can’t take your eyes away!

Then, there are the layers of thematic juxtaposition. The sheer amount of depth is...astounding...unimaginable...

Technology and nature...

Modesty and impudence...

Civility and chaos...

Creation and destruction...

Innocence...and maturity...

This photo is full of life!" Her final sentence erupted as a shout, echoing through the space...reverberating within the minds of each member of the audience.

Soon, the second judge, an obese middle-aged man, stood up. "It’s like the first time I watched a sunrise on a rainy day...

Then, the third judge, an elderly female, also rose. "The photographer captured something that...that...seems as if it shouldn’t exist!"

Ben’s photo of Charlotte was a paradox! Containing a series of things that shouldn’t exist in one person! He’d captured something incredible! A genuine piece of art! No--a masterpiece!

As the three judges turned to look to the back of the room, at the model Charlotte, her cheeks turned beet-red as she hid the bottom half of her face beneath her red knitted sweater... Yet, obscured under that fabric, she couldn’t help but smile...

Meanwhile, sitting next to her, Ben crossed his arms and held his eyes half-closed, wearing the expression he imagined a grandmaster artist would possess...

He even nodded at each of the judges’ appraisals, praising them for being not bad...

Commending the fact that they toiled their entire lives to build the skills just to recognize those tiny aspects of his intricate work...

Albeit, it was true that it wasn’t easy creating such a deep photograph, and in Ben’s mind, he reflected on his motivation at the time he captured this profound work. ’I just thought it looked cool.’

...

He wasn’t the type of conscious photographer to consider all those things the judges mentioned. When it came to art, although he’d worked on his techniques, for the most part, Ben was developing his instincts, and it was those that told him that Charlotte was special and helped him arrange this photograph.

Yet, the judges believed Ben’s attitude was well-deserved, because this work, was masterful. Of course, it was hard to say if he was a genius from only one picture, since it was possible he only captured a lucky shot and wouldn’t be able to maintain such consistency in the future. For now though, that didn’t matter, because this photograph—deserved the highest acclaim!

As such, the obese judge brought his hands up, and prepared to clap them together... Yet, his motions were jerky, hesitant. He asked himself, ’Would it be appropriate? Is this too cliche?’

...

Thus, under the watchful eyes of the crowd, his hands came together in slow motion...as he debated the pros and cons in his mind...

At the same time, to his side, Darryl glared at him and shook his head. ’Don’t do it...don’t you f*cking do it fatty!’

...

Yet, THE URGE TO MAKE IT CLAP WON OUT TODAY!

*Clap*

*Clap* *Clap*

*Clap* *Clap* *Clap*

Soon, it wasn’t just him, but also the other two judges, and then...the first row, the second row, all the rows! Everyone stood up and faced the back of the room, clapping! It was a standing ovation!

Yet, it was one that everyone believed was justified...not too cliche...

...

A minute later, when the applause died down though, the judges realized they’d skipped something—they forgot to give their grades!

Hence, after everyone sat back down, the three judges began to ponder how to score this photo, and that, wasn’t as simple as it seemed.

Although Ben’s picture possessed many unique qualities, the fact was that this was a beginner’s competition, and for that, the rules outlined that the most valuable aspect in grading would be technique. Well, when it came to the technical aspect, Ben’s skills were good. Yet, Darryl’s photo was much more refined! Thus, they weren’t sure who they should award the highest score, and as a result, the victory. After all, none of the judges wanted to receive criticism for ignoring the rules.

As for Ben, after gloating for the entirety of the applause, he also realized the issue. ’Did I just set myself up for a reversal? Shiiiiit."

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*Author’s Note: Regarding bonus chapters, it’s the same deal this weak. Top 5 ML for 2-8 extra chaps. Do you want more chapters? Well, you need to vote. Can the other English authors on this platform write chapters like these? No! So f*cking vote!

*Whisks white beard to the side*

*Eyes narrow* ’Please vote...’