Return of the Genius Photographer

VOTUS Headquarters, First Floor.

“Woojin! Over here.”

“Hello, Editor Yoon.”

As I entered the building right on time, Yoon Jung-ah, who had been waiting in the lobby, greeted me warmly.

“This is your first time here, right? Was it easy to find?”

“Yes, it’s pretty close.”

I responded while glancing around. This wasn’t the VOTUS studio in Jongno where I worked last time; this was the main office. Today’s shoot was scheduled to happen here. It made sense since it was an interview shoot, so a big studio wasn’t necessary.

“Follow me, please.”

I followed Editor Yoon into the elevator.

“I saw your photo in the monthly magazine. I knew you were good-looking, but the photo came out amazing! You must have been doing well these days?”

“Yes, I’ve been lucky with work.”

“Lucky? Come on, it’s all because of your talent. I knew you would become popular in no time.”

As the elevator slowly ascended, Editor Yoon made small talk, asking how I’d been.

We had first met around the time I started working at Photographer Jung Woong’s studio. Since then, quite a bit had changed, so it made sense that she’d be curious.

“That’s why I was so quick to sign with you!”

“You’re too kind. I still have a long way to go.”

“I’m really glad I signed you on.”

She continued praising me during our walk, saying how glad she was about her decision.

While I appreciated her kind words, it also made me feel a bit embarrassed. As I turned to respond, I noticed something off—her bright tone didn’t match her tired expression.

It wasn’t obvious from a distance, but up close, I could clearly see how exhausted she was. Something must have been weighing on her, unlike the last time we met.

“You look a bit pale… Are you alright?”

I asked, concerned. She sighed lightly before answering.

“Ah… I’m fine. I always look like this before deadlines.”

“Is the deadline coming up soon?”

“Yes, but it’s this shoot that’s been causing all the trouble…”

Come to think of it, I hadn’t heard the details of today’s shoot yet. When she called me, she seemed frantic. It must have something to do with her current condition.

“Could you tell me more about today’s shoot?”

Curious, I asked, and she sighed again before answering.

“Ah, I was just about to explain. Do you know comedian Yoo Dong-gyu?”

I nodded.

Yoo Dong-gyu, a comedian once known as the nation’s MC a few years ago, was a veteran in the industry.

Despite his older age, his gentle demeanor and effortless humor had endeared him to many. He had hosted numerous variety shows and was widely recognized in Korea.

“Today’s interview is with him.”

“Really? Why didn’t you mention that earlier? I’m sure many photographers would have jumped at the chance to shoot him.”

Something felt strange. I recalled how urgent her call had been, as if they didn’t have anyone lined up for the shoot.

Why hadn’t she mentioned Yoo Dong-gyu earlier?

Surely, many photographers would have wanted the opportunity to shoot such a famous personality.

And from what I knew, Yoo Dong-gyu was on a break from public appearances…

As if anticipating my thoughts, Editor Yoon quickly explained.

“He was really hard to book. As you know, he’s extremely famous, so this issue is very important to us. But there have been some problems with the shoot.”

“What kind of problems?”

“Well… it’s a bit of a long story…”

She paused, seemingly unsure how to phrase her response.

“This is actually the third attempt at this shoot, including your involvement. So far, every time we tried, he’s refused the photos, saying they didn’t meet his expectations.”

Her explanation was surprising. Here’s what had been happening:

VOTUS had managed to secure a huge name for the interview, but things hadn’t gone smoothly.

Despite the magazine being more fashion-focused, making interviews a secondary feature, Editor Yoon had put a lot of effort into preparing for this shoot, given the celebrity’s stature.

However, the shoot had run into unexpected problems. Yoo Dong-gyu, after being so difficult to book, kept rejecting the photos, saying they didn’t meet his standards. That’s why they were still stuck redoing the shoot so close to the deadline.

No wonder Editor Yoon looked so stressed.

“That sounds really challenging. Can’t you just use one of the previous photos?”

“We’ll try our best to avoid that, but for now, we have to keep shooting…”

Although I was surprised by Yoo Dong-gyu’s reaction, given his typically easygoing public image, it wasn’t completely unheard of.

Some celebrities, especially actors, often set conditions like choosing their own photographer or even halting a shoot if they didn’t like the photos. While rare, I had seen it happen before.

“There was a bit of friction with the other photographers during the previous shoots, so I’m really hoping you can handle it this time, Woojin.”

Editor Yoon closed her eyes, her voice faint with fatigue. She was likely brainstorming ways to convince Yoo Dong-gyu during the shoot.

But after hearing everything, I just smiled and replied.

“Don’t worry. It’ll work out.”

In the end, it was a matter of delivering the kind of photos the subject wanted. That wasn’t too complicated. In fact, this task might even be easier than some of the other projects I’d done, where I had to figure out what to shoot. Here, I only needed to figure out how to shoot.

As our conversation neared its end—

“This is the interview room.”

—I was finally face-to-face with Yoo Dong-gyu.

*****

Editor Yoon Jung-ah had brought me to a small studio located in the VOTUS headquarters building. It was primarily used for interviews.

Maybe that’s why the studio had the feel of a luxurious hotel lounge.

A brown leather sofa sat in front of a white backdrop. Comedian Yoo Dong-gyu was already seated on that sofa, as if he had been waiting.

“Hello, you’re Yoo Dong-gyu, right? I’m Nam Woojin, the photographer in charge of today’s shoot.”

“Yes. I look forward to working with you.”

When I greeted him after stepping inside, Yoo Dong-gyu gave a formal reply.

He met my eyes, tilted his head slightly, and asked Editor Yoon.

“Yoon Jung-ah, I asked for a skilled photographer, but who is this young person? Are there no proper photographers?”

His tone was filled with displeasure. It seemed that Yoo Dong-gyu was worn out from the constant shoots over the past few days.

The impression I had of Yoo Dong-gyu was vastly different from what I had seen on TV.

To put it simply, he seemed like a stubborn middle-aged man. The gentle atmosphere I had seen on TV was nowhere to be found; instead, he had a tired face and an attitude that completely contradicted my expectations.

“No, Mr. Yoo Dong-gyu. He may be young, but Nam Woojin’s skills as a photographer are as good as any professional. You don’t need to worry.”

“Hmm…”

Although Yoon Jung-ah replied confidently, Yoo Dong-gyu still seemed doubtful, casting a suspicious glance my way.

“Editor Yoon Jung-ah, there’s something I need to check before the shoot. Could you come over here for a moment?”

Ignoring his gaze, I began preparing for the shoot.

“Are these the photos from the previous session?”

“Yes. There aren’t that many.”

I nodded at Yoon Jung-ah’s words and examined the photos. I intended to figure out what part of the previous photos the interviewee didn’t like.

To be honest, there didn’t seem to be much wrong with the pictures.

In the photos, Yoo Dong-gyu looked as cheerful and friendly as I remembered him from TV.

‘Well, interview photography is a field that’s hard to mess up.’

Interview photos are used everywhere—magazines, newspapers, books, posters, even online articles.

Unless it’s an unusual shoot, like for a photo spread or a documentary-style interview, interview photography is a well-known field that even amateurs can attempt.

With a little knowledge and practice, anyone can easily take interview photos, so it’s rare to find subpar results.

‘So, what’s the issue?’

As I skimmed through photos of Yoo Dong-gyu smiling brightly, I started to ponder.

What kind of photo would satisfy him? What kind of image was he seeking?

“Where’s the photographer?”

While I was lost in thought, Yoo Dong-gyu, seemingly impatient, asked again in his curt tone.

Judging by his tone, he wouldn’t give me much time to think.

“Sir, is there a specific type of photo you’re looking for?”

I continued thinking as I asked Yoo Dong-gyu.

“If there’s a style or feeling you want, I’ll shoot accordingly. Please, feel free to tell me.”

However, Yoo Dong-gyu didn’t seem keen on answering. In fact, it seemed more like he didn’t know himself.

“If I knew what kind of photo I wanted, I would’ve taken it already. I don’t know either, what I’m looking for.”

He answered with a sad smile.

Suddenly, I had a feeling I’d missed something about him, something I hadn’t noticed in his curt demeanor from earlier.

“Looks like we’re in for another long struggle.”

“The photographers must be having a hard time too. This isn’t the first or second time.”

“Yeah, they should take it easy.”

I could hear the staff murmuring in the background, but my focus remained solely on Yoo Dong-gyu.

Somehow, I had the sense that the one I needed to help wasn’t VOTUS, but rather, this man in front of me.

What kind of photo could he possibly want?

If he wasn’t satisfied with even the ones showing his bright smile…

“Sir, have you heard the story of the clown?”

“A clown? What are you talking about?”

“If you have a moment, may I share a story with you?”

After watching his sad smile for a while, I spoke softly.

“One day, a man suffering from depression visited a doctor.”

Yoo Dong-gyu’s expression grew curious at the sudden, unrelated story.

“The man honestly confessed his feelings to the doctor, saying he was sad.”

But I continued without pausing.

“He said, ‘Doctor, life is hard and harsh. I feel like I’m all alone in this world.’”

He began to focus more on my words.

“‘The world feels uncertain and terrifying, and I’m scared of everything.’”

I maintained eye contact as I spoke.

“The doctor listened calmly and responded, ‘The solution is simple.’”

Calmly.

“‘Today, the famous clown Pagliacci is in town.’”

I smiled slightly.

“‘Go see him and laugh. It’ll make you feel better.’”

As I told the story, Yoo Dong-gyu’s expression started to twist, as if he had become the man in the story, full of despair.

“The man listened to the doctor’s words and cried out, sobbing, ‘But doctor…’”

“‘I am Pagliacci.’”

By the time I finished my story, tears were streaming down Yoo Dong-gyu’s face. And they weren’t just any tears, but ones filled with deep sorrow.

It was as if he truly believed he was Pagliacci, and he sobbed uncontrollably.