" Hey, we are going on a picnic" - Jee Sook Beck 2009
A Brooklyn based artist Joo Hwang is having her first solo exhibition
in Seoul, Korea. It consists of two main bodies of her work: one
being her portrait works completed in the United States and the other
being a landscape project she has been working on since 2005 during
her several visits to Korea., The words of the French poet Edmond
Haracourt, "To leave is to die a little (Partir, c'est mourir un peu)"
could be thought to simply address the question of the memory of
those who are left behind. For the artist who suffers from a serious
aerophobia, on the other hand, leaving her home literally means to
"die a little." Considering the immensity of the fear and uncertainty
caused not only by her aerophobia but also by the unresolved issue
of cultural jet lag she experiences on her trips to Korea, her
landscape images are rather banal and plain. Or at least they seem
so in the eyes of those who live here.
She has captured scenes in and around Seoul which we often
encounter, such as parks, woods, and meadows bordering the
Han River. Her "nature" is neither grand, lush wilderness that contrasts
with man-made culture, nor perfectly trimmed artificial gardens, the
inevitable consequence of city construction. It is closer to the image
of abandoned nature with hints of seasonal elements interrupted by
high-rise buildings, bridges, and automobiles. They are far from
a spectacle. The cityscape blurred by sandy dust and toned down
by grey skies hovers in the nature like a mirage. Its light either reflects
off the leaves, flowers, and shrubs oris absorbed in white clothes,
building parts, and sail boats depicted in the photographs. Those small
elements guide our thoughts to different places.
What is it that gives these banal images a sense of sorrow and
serenity? Joo's photographs, which seem both familiar and foreign,
carry a sense of "in-betweenness." Such quality may be attributed
to Joo's existential place in time. She appears to be positioning
herself between the contemporary Korean photographic scene where
spectacles and performances prevail and digital Pop images of
everyday life which strain our senses with their overpowering energy
and tenacity. Her photographs represent landscapes that are easily
overlooked by artists and amateur photographers alike. In an understated
manner, she captures scenes we often simply pass by. Her images
make up for the absence of the contemporary identity of "ultra hyper
odernist" photographs and sentimental and nostalgic images of amateur
photographers. Her work is like a missing piece of a puzzle lost
somewhere between extreme conceptualism and excessive nostalgia.
That missing piece seems attuned to the sentiments of our time.
Through her work, Joo deals with the dualism of vision, especially
the visual experience of absence. John Burger states that human vision
has the characteristic of affirming things that have disappeared from
our vision. In order to resist this absence that denies one's own
existence, one comes to believe the missing entity to still exist.
Like the Diasporas around the world, Joo must have internalized such
dualism of vision. She sees the place she left behind with herself
included and at the same time inevitably excluded from it. This position
enables her to see things that we often overlook. The "time difference"
that exists within a place allows the artist to see things that residents
may overlook. Her images are somewhat like a strange "empty lot"
that is exposed momentarily from a gap in the boundaries thickened by
the intertwinement of time and space caused by displacement and
development, and migration and construction.
This empty lot is more deconstructive than constructive, and more
incidental than intended. Her photographs are mainly medium shots with
perspective restrained, composition slanted, colors toned down. At the
same time, specificity of photographic medium displays details that
disperse our eyes, emphasizing the "entirety" of an image. Her
photographs seem three-dimensional yet flat and cramped yet loose.
One feels a sense of "in-betweenness" which then turns into a sense
of desolate beauty. In my view, this kind of "beauty" risen from the gap
mentioned above speaks for the social aesthetics of today where the
"sublime"predominates the art scene.
If a sense of "beauty" is aroused by the harmony between the idea
and its representational entity of sense experience, the "sublime"
is closely associated with something confusing, appalling and grotesque.
Whereas the beauty is based on the distance with an object that gives
disinterested pleasure, the sublime is mediated by displeasure that
overpowers viewers. The time when Nature was considered chaotic,
infinite and even fearful has passed. Nature is no longer a suitable
object for the sublime. Instead, human unconsciousness, virtual space,
wars and terrorisms or poverty and catastrophes have replaced the
sublimity of Nature. Nature has been incapacitated by the redevelopment
and construction craze including the future canal project of Korea.
Nature and the city are now objects of suspicion, and the destructive
force that targets our memories, closely intertwined with our environment,
has become sublimity itself. What's left of the natural landscape is
hollow with only a trace of "beauty". In this inverted world, the
"beauty" has become the shadow of the "sublime." In the center
of Joo's aesthetics lies a sense of shallow sorrow, delusions, and
lethargy, which her "empty lots" embody.
Joo Hwang, a rather laid-back artist, has set out to excavate the site
of the sublime where self-destructiveness inhibits our memory from
commemorating the past. It is often said that photography is a tool for
the middle class to expand their vision. The middle "zone"that Joo
occupies, somewhere between Brooklyn and Seoul, enables her
unaltered photographs of "reality" to have a "surreal" distance.
Her photographs "articulate" the distance that is both temporal and
social. Susan Sontag suggests that surrealism holds its power when it
borders on reality in a both joyous and modest manner, implication
of which is that realism does not suffice to represent reality. Joo
perceives reality as a form of an object and as she continually records
and reproduces it, it becomes a surreal way of overcoming the absurd
reality we live in. For her, dissatisfaction is no longer a basis for utopia.
The afore mentioned "articulation" of distance is manifested in the
medium ranges of her shots. People out on a picnic or on their walks,
students on their way home appear like little dots in the photographs
and resonate in viewer's eyes. Although these "small"people are not
presented as main characters, viewers can sense that their little escape
from reality is simultaneously peaceful and uneasy. Branched off from
the landscape photographs are the series that focus more on the people
whom she met in those "empty lots."They are teenagers exercising,
women having a picnic and middle aged men walking their dogs.
They contrast with the people depicted in her earlier portrait works or
karaoke pieces in which they seem to confirm Judith Butler's gender
performativity. Their facial expressions, gazes and poses deliver certain
social norms that have been imposed on young Asian bodies. At the
same time, they negotiate with the norms through their make-up, hair style,
and fashion. The reason they seem uncertain and fragile is that they
are not only playing the given role but also performing the situation itself.
For that reason, an equal emphasis is put on the surroundings of the
karaoke singers. A spacial backdrop, or an "empty lot" functions as an
apparatus for such performance. They all seem to be screaming out
loud from a distance, "Hey, we are going on a picnic."
Translation Myong-Hwa Jeong
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3) ¼öÀÜ ¼ÕŹ, »çÁø¿¡ °üÇÏ¿©, ÀÌÀç¿ø ¿Å±è, ½Ã¿ï, 2005
4) ½½¶óº¸¿¹ ÁöÁ§, À̵¥¿Ã·Î±â¶ó´Â ¼þ°íÇÑ ´ë»ó, À̼ö·Ã¿Å±è, Àΰ£»ç¶û, 2002
5) Áêµð½º ¹öƲ·¯, Àǹ̸¦ üÇöÇÏ´Â À°Ã¼, ±èÀ±»ó ¿Å±è, Àΰ£»ç¶û, 2003