22. The Value of Memory
The server room.
“Oh, hello. We see you often.”
“Yes, haha. I’m here again.”
At the server administrator’s greeting, Geonshin acted openly familiar. Because this visit had a purpose.
Geonshin quickly swept his eyes across the server room.
In that moment, his gaze went to a heavy black computer sitting in a corner. The reason he had come to the server room was exactly because of that.
‘That one. The highest spec computer in this company, with the latest RAM card and graphics card, and if you run rendering, would it even be a Quadro. No, that version probably isn’t out yet. Still, that one is more than enough. And since it’s for testing, all the programs we need are probably installed.’
Geonshin subtly pointed that way to Team Leader Mo with a look, like a kid pleading for snacks at a mart.
Team Leader Mo stole a glance at the computer. It looked like it was on a completely different level from what they used in the office.
‘Ha. How do I ask to borrow that?’
Team Leader Mo had definitely explained the situation to Director Yoo-uk and asked him to let them use the server room computer, but the call had been cut off coldly, along with a single barked shout that he was busy.
It seemed he had overestimated Director Yoo-uk’s influence. With no time left, they had come here recklessly to just smash into it and see what happened, but…
Team Leader Mo’s mind was spinning furiously.
But in this world, there is always someone who cannot endure silence.
Watching Team Leader Mo and Geonshin stand there without a word, each lost in their own worries, the server administrator opened his mouth as if he was getting impatient.
“Um, you two didn’t come to use the computer?”
“Huh? No, how did you…”
“Director Yoo-uk called. He said if you two come by, to let you use the computer.”
“Director Yoo-uk?”
‘No, was this something that could be solved with just one phone call from the director? Wow. Director Yoo-uk is incredible.’
Geonshin and Team Leader Mo were newly astonished by Director Yoo-uk’s power. They had thought he was just a lightweight, but at some point he had resolved it with a phone call.
“Well, he said if there’s a problem, he’ll take responsibility, and also…”
“And also?”
“He said he’d set me up on a blind date with his niece… that she’s pretty. Haha.”
Team Leader Mo stared blankly at the administrator’s face.
‘Ah, he looks like a young guy… I think Director Yoo-uk said his niece was a thirty-five year old old maid. Of all things.’
Anyway, Geonshin sat down in front of the computer, impressed by Director Yoo-uk’s unexpected influence.
‘With a machine like this, it’s enough.’
Gwangseong University.
“Oh my! Professor. It’s great to see you. To give me a chance like this to take on judging.”
Director Yoo-uk shook hands as if he had a long relationship with Professor Bong, even though it was their first time meeting.
At Team Leader Mo’s request, he had volunteered to attend the design studio review. On the surface, the purpose was to help with the course evaluation while also looking for resources needed by Yeongjo Architecture, one of the country’s leading firms, but…
Now that he had come this far, what was there to hide?
The real purpose was to meet in advance the judge-designate for the Gwangseong University project they had taken on.
They expected that Mirim Architecture’s side would also come greet Professor Bong, and while outright lobbying was of course not possible, they could not just sit there sucking their fingers either.
They needed to keep Mirim Architecture in check while appealing where they could.
“Ah. This gentleman is Director Ham Seokjun from Mirim Architecture, and this gentleman is Director Yoo-uk from Yeongjo Architecture. Please, greet each other. Today is a very lucky day for our students. To be judged by both Mirim and Yeongjo. Huhuhuh!”
“Ah, professor, what are you saying?”
Director Ham and Director Yoo-uk shook hands while glaring at each other.
They did not need to properly introduce themselves. They roughly knew each other already.
Yeongjo, established first, and Mirim, a later entrant that became its rival.
At one time, the Korea Architecture Awards were practically swept and divided between the two of them, so other firms could not even get a chance.
With rivals participating, the design studio review did not go smoothly.
After a student finished presenting their architecture project, Director Ham said,
“I really like that flashy facade on that big mass. The face of that building you made creates a new expression for the city. People always want new objects. That’s why they buy new things and replace the furniture in their homes, right? Cities are the same. They always want a new expression. That creates another landscape that did not exist before. You all want to live in a new town too, don’t you? Isn’t that right? It was a very good approach.”
And then Director Yoo-uk snapped back at the student,
“When an architect handles a site, they must always think about the responsibility that comes with it. If you create a new landscape with something that large and flashy, you will irreversibly change and erase the city’s appearance that lived in people’s memories. New towns are fine, but clearing away every object where our memories have melted in here and there, and bringing in new things, is no different from being left all alone in a strange city, bleak and empty. It might be beautiful, but it will no longer be a familiar place for us.”
Because of the blood-splattering judging from the two of them, Professor Bong’s expression grew more and more stiff.
“Um, you two, please stop…”
After the last student finished, Professor Bong, whose ears were ringing from their near-shouting evaluations, wrapped up the design studio review.
Then, as they passed by, Director Ham approached Professor Bong and spoke in a low voice.
“That Yeongjo Architecture guy, he came because of the design competition. He might try to lobby you for a vote. If that happens, we would appreciate it if you reported it. Hahaha.”
“Ah… I see.”
Director Ham glared at Director Yoo-uk, then sharply turned his head and left the classroom. Watching him, Director Yoo-uk shook his head and forced a smile.
Then he approached Professor Bong.
“Professor. You know why I came, right?”
At Director Yoo-uk’s words, Professor Bong’s brows creased.
Was he really here to lobby? No matter what, to put it in his mouth this openly…
“Director Yoo, that…”
“Professor.”
“Yes?”
“Just choose what you truly think is good.”
“What is good?”
“Whether it’s something new, or old memories, choose what is good and necessary for the students. That’s what I came to say. And I will respect your choice, too. There isn’t an answer, is there?”
At Director Yoo-uk’s words, Professor Bong went blank.
‘He didn’t come to sell anything?’
In Professor Bong’s mind, everything Director Yoo-uk had been talking about all day flashed past. The value of memory, the preciousness of memories, even an architect’s sense of responsibility.
‘That was all something he was saying for me to hear.’
Director Yoo-uk gave a hearty laugh and disappeared out of the classroom.
And Professor Bong, who already knew Mirim Architecture’s plan, could not help but grow newly curious about Yeongjo Architecture’s plan.
‘No, what on earth did they prepare…’
The server room. Four days before the deadline.
Geonshin lightly rolled his wrists, loosening his muscles. The basic key drawing work was finished.
Now it was time to make the deliverables for submission.
The black computer sitting in one corner of the server room…
The administrator gladly allowed him to use it. However, only inside the server room until they submitted. Since separating the main unit and bringing it to Division 7 would require resetting the server again, as a temporary measure he decided to work in the server room.
He had said he would help with Assistant Manager Soomin’s workload, but in the end, Geonshin decided to take on the design report, the panels, and the aerial renderings himself.
Since Geonshin was the source of all the ideas, the only one who could understand this project best and explain it was also Geonshin.
More than anything, Assistant Manager Soomin’s work had piled up like a mountain because of the absence of partner firms.
In the end, it became a case where Team Leader Mo and Assistant Manager Soomin were one team, and Geonshin and the super computer divided the work.
But what was the problem. Geonshin opened the status window. The server room filled with shining letters. He thought for a moment.
‘Right. I should make the full design report format first, do the CG work after, and then finish by turning it into panels.’
As he tried to make a thirty-page design report, Geonshin doubted how overseas architects’ portfolios would look to Korean judges in 2002.
Overseas portfolios had a tidy, clean layout with a static feeling, with no excess.
But Korean portfolios were mostly made dynamically to match the concept.
In the layout itself, the concept of the building appeared, and striking elements that grabbed your eye were placed throughout.
Because of these different styles, if he used overseas portfolios as references, it could even backfire.
Then. This is the folder you use at times like this.
A domestic architecture firm that would be founded in 2007, DM Architecture. A mid-sized architecture firm created by a representative and a few directors who had grown sick of large design offices.
When they first left their companies and rented a small office, they participated in a concert hall design competition.
The entry they submitted, even hiring part-timers, won first place, and they invested the prize money as seed capital and grew endlessly under the name DM Architecture.
However, to avoid repeating the unfortunate reality that when a firm becomes a large architecture company, philosophy collapses under the logic of money, they maintained a small-to-mid scale of under two hundred people.
It was a firm that found the optimal state needed to maintain maximum architectural quality.
In particular, the design reports and panels they made were a new possibility that appropriately mixed overseas “static” and domestic “dynamic.”
As DM Architecture’s works and portfolios were featured in magazines and came out as collected works, not only architects but even university students went wild over them, and they settled in as a trend.
‘If it’s DM Architecture, it’ll definitely work.’
Geonshin’s consciousness sank into the world of folders.
With the folder-use coupons he had grown accustomed to, he could approach the target at high speed.
Like Neo flying through the air inside the Matrix like a bullet, he arrived in front of DM Architecture’s golden folder.
And without hesitation, he reached out and opened the folder.
From DM Architecture’s representative works to countless portfolios, they poured out like a fountain and began to be absorbed into Geonshin’s consciousness.
‘It’s not like it’s my first time doing it, but it’s thrilling. It’s always new. It’s fun every time I do it!’
[Used one Folder Use Coupon. Remaining -1]
The design report he chose from them was the “Nodeul Island Seoul Performing Arts Center” project.
It was a work that had proudly taken first place in an international design competition, and its smooth, massive roof line evoked Korea’s eaves and the beautiful lines of a dance.
Since opera and Korean content were mixed, the design report too was a fine work that did not stand out excessively, while preserving the feel of the concept as it was.
Unlike existing design reports that overflowed with information to the point of being hard to understand, it used icons, concise explanations, and easy-to-understand diagrams, keeping ample white space while embedding the concept into each page as points that drew the eye.
Geonshin opened Illustrator. His head was already packed with all thirty pages.
‘Alright, shall we begin?’
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