" 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

 

 

 

 

 

 

ÇìÀÌ, ¿ì¸® ¼Òdz°£´Ù.    - ¹éÁö¼÷(¹Ì¼úÆò·Ð, Àü½Ã±âȹ)


ºê·çŬ¸°¿¡ °ÅÁÖÇÏ°í ÀÖ´Â »çÁøÀÛ°¡ ÁÖȲÀÌ ¼­¿ï¿¡¼­ ù Àü½Ã¸¦ ¿¬´Ù. À̹ø¿¡ Àü½ÃµÇ´Â

ÀÛÇ°µéÀº ¹Ì±¹¿¡¼­ ÂïÀº Àι° »çÁø ±º°ú ±¹³»¿¡¼­ ÂïÀº dz°æ»çÁøµé·Î ´ëº°µÇ´Âµ¥, ³ªÁßÀÇ

ÀÌ Ç³°æ»çÁøÀº 2005³â¿¡¼­ 2008³â »çÀÌ¿¡ ÀÛ°¡°¡ ¸î Â÷·Ê ¹Ì±¹À» ¶°³ª Çѱ¹¿¡ ¿Í¼­ ÃÔ¿µÇÑ

°ÍÀÌ´Ù. ÇÁ¶û½ºÀÇ ¾î´À ½ÃÀÎÀÌ "¶°³²Àº ÀÛÀº Á×À½ÀÌ´Ù Partir, c'est mourir un peu"¶ó°í

½èÀ» ¶§, ±×°ÍÀº ´Ù¼Ò°£, Çì¾îÁø »ç¶÷µé¿¡ °üÇÑ ±â¾ïÀÇ ¹®Á¦·Î ¿ä¾àµÉ ¼ö ÀÖÁö¸¸, ½É°¢ÇÑ

ºñÇà°øÆ÷Áõ¿¡ ½Ã´Þ¸®°í ÀÖ´Â ÁÖȲ¿¡°Ô ÀÌ°ÍÀº °¡°¨ ¾øÀÌ ¸» ±×´ë·ÎÀÌ´Ù. ²öÁú±ä ºñÇà°øÆ÷¿Í

¿©ÀüÇÑ ¹®È­½ÃÂ÷°¡ Áö¹èÇÏ´Â ±¹°æÀÇ °íºñ¸¦ ¸î ¹øÀ̳ª ³ÑÀ¸¸ç ÀÛ°¡°¡ Á¦ÀÛÇÑ Ç³°æ»çÁøµéÀº,

±×·¯³ª ¿¹»ó°ú ´Þ¸®, ÀÏ°ß, ¹Ô¹ÔÇÏ°í Æò¹üÇÏ´Ù. Àû¾îµµ ¿©±â »Ñ¸®¸¦ ³»¸®°í »ì°í ÀÖ´Â

»ç¶÷µé ´«¿¡´Â ±×·¸°Ô º¸ÀδÙ.


ÀÌ Ç³°æ»çÁø¿¡´Â ¼­¿ï ½Ã³» ÇÑ°­º¯À̳ª ¿Ü°ûÁö´ë ȤÀº µµ½Ã±Ù±³ ¾îµð¼­°Ç ¿ì¸®°¡ ÈçÈ÷

¸¶ÁÖÄ¥ ¹ýÇÑ °ø¿øÀ̳ª ¾ß»ê, ½£, °­ µîÀÌ ÀâÇô ÀÖ´Ù. ±×·±µ¥ ÀÌ 'ÀÚ¿¬'Àº ¹®È­¿Í ´ëÁ¶µÇ´Â

dz¿ä·Ó°í Àå¾öÇÑ ¾ß»ýÀÌ ¾Æ´Ò»Ó´õ·¯, ±×·¸´Ù°í »çÀûÀÎ °ø°£°ú ºñ±³µÇ´Â °ø°øÀÇ Àΰø³ìÁö·Î

°ü¸®µÇ´Â ¸ð¾ç»õµµ ¾Æ´Ï´Ù. Àû´çÈ÷ ¹æÄ¡µÈ ä °èÀýÀÇ È帧À» °£°£ÀÌ ¾Ë¸®°í ÀÖ´Â ÀÌ ÀÚ¿¬ÀÇ

±â¹°Ñ¥Úªµé ¿©±âÀú±â·Î, °íÃþ°Ç¹°À̳ª ¾ÆÆÄÆ® ´ÜÁö, ´ë±³, ÀÚµ¿Â÷ µîÀÌ ³¢¾îµé°í Àִµ¥,

±×°Íµé ¿ª½Ã ¿õÀåÇϰųª À§¾ÐÀûÀÎ ¸ð½ÀÇÏ°í´Â °Å¸®°¡ ÀÖ´Ù. Ȳ»ç°¡ ³¢°Å³ª ȤÀº È帰 ³¯ÀÇ

°¡¶ó¾ÉÀº »öÁ¶·Î ÀçÇöµÇ¾îÀÖ´Â µµ½Ã´Â ´Ù¸¸ ½Å±â·çó·³ ÀÚ¿¬ »çÀÌ¿¡ ¶° ÀÖÀ» »ÓÀÌ´Ù. ±×¸®°ï,

»çÁø Àüü¿¡ »êÆ÷µÇ¾î ÀÖ´Â ³ª¹µÀÙ, ²É, Ç®ÀÌ Á¾Á¾ ÇÞºûÀ» ¹Ý»çÇÏ°í, Èò¿ÊÀ̳ª ºôµùÀÇ ÆÄÆí,

Á¶°¢¹è µîÀÌ °£È¤ ±× ºûÀ» Èí¼öÇϸ鼭, »çÁøÀ» ¹Ù¶óº¸´Â ¿ì¸®ÀÇ »ó³äÀ» À̸®Àú¸® À̲ö´Ù.


¾îµð¼±°¡ º» µíÇÑ ¿ì¸®ÁÖº¯ÀÇ Ç³°æ»çÁø¿¡¼­ ¹ß»êµÇ´Â ¾ÖÀÜÇÔ°ú ³¶¶ûÇÔÀÇ ½Çü´Â ¹«¾ùÀϱî.

Àͼ÷Çϸ鼭µµ ³¸¼³°Ô ´À²¸Áö´Â ÀÌ 'Áß°£Á¤¼­'´Â ¿ì¼±, ÁÖȲ »çÁøÀÇ Á¸Àç·ÐÀû À§Ä¡¿¡ ±âÀÎÇÏ´Â

°ÍÀÏÁö ¸ð¸¥´Ù. ±×°ÍÀº ÇÑÆíÀ¸·Î´Â °­·ÄÇÑ ½ºÆåÅÍŬ°ú ÆÛÆ÷¸Õ½º·Î ¿ì¸® ´«À» ÀÚ±ØÇÏ°í ÀÖ´Â

¿äÁò Çѱ¹ÀÇ Çö´ë¹Ì¼ú»çÁø°ú, ´Ù¸¥ ÇÑÆíÀ¸·Î´Â ³î¶ö¸¸ÇÑ ¿¡³ÊÁö¿Í Áý¿äÇÔÀ¸·Î ¿ì¸® ¸öÀ»

±äÀå½ÃÅ°´Â ¿ì¸® ½Ã´ëÀÇ µðÁöÅÐ ÆË À̹ÌÁö »çÀÌ¿¡ ³¢¾î ÀÖ´Ù. È®½ÇÈ÷ ÁÖȲÀº »çÁøÀÛ°¡À̵ç

¾ÖÈ£°¡ÀÌµç °£¿¡ Á»Ã³·³ »çÁø Àû ´ë»óÀ¸·Î Ãë±ÞÇÏÁö ¾Ê´Â ±×·± ¹æ±âµÈ dz°æÀ» ºÙÀâ¾Æ

±â·ÏÇÔÀ¸·Î½á, ¿ì¸® ½Ã¾ß¿¡¼­ ½ºÃÄ Áö³ª°¡±â¸¸ Çß´ø dz°æµéÀ» Àá½Ã³ª¸¶ Â÷ºÐÈ÷ ¸Ó¹°°Ô ÇÏ°í

ÀÖ´Ù. À̸¦Å׸é, ±×ÀÇ Ç³°æ»çÁøÀº '¿ïÆ®¶ó ÇÏÀÌÆÛ Æ÷½ºÆ®¸ð´ø' °­³²¹®È­¸¦ ´à¾ÆÀÖ´Â ÀÛ°¡µéÀÇ

»çÁø°ú ºÎ¾Ïµ¿, ¼ººÏµ¿ µî °­ºÏÀÇ ¿¾³¯ µ¿³×¹®È­¿¡ ÇѲ¯ ½ò¸° µ¿È£ÀεéÀÇ »çÁø »çÀÌ ¾îµò°¡¿¡¼­

¹æÀüµÇ¾î ¹ö¸° ´ç´ëÀû Á¤¼­¸¦ ÃæÀüÇÏ°í ÀÖ´Â °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ±Ø´ÜÀû °³³ä¼º°ú °úÀ×µÈ ³ë½ºÅÅÁö¾î

»çÀÌ¿¡¼­ ³õÃÄ ¹ö¸° Àå¼Ò¿¡ °üÇÑ »çÁø Àû ±â·ÏÀº ±×·± ¸Æ¶ô¿¡¼­ ¿ì¸®ÀÇ Çö½ÇÀû °¨¼ö¼ºÀ»

ÀûÀýÇÏ°Ô Æ©´× ÇÑ´Ù°í ÇÏ°Ú´Ù.


¾î¶»°Ô º¸¸é, ÁÖȲÀÇ »çÁøÀº »çÁø ÀÌÀü¿¡, Àΰ£ÀÇ ½Ã°¢ ÀÚü°¡ °®´Â ÀÌÁß¼º, ƯÈ÷ ºÎÀçÀÇ

½Ã°¢Àû °æÇè°ú °ü·ÃÀÌ ÀÖ´Ù. Á¸ ¹ö°Å´Â ½Ã°¢¿¡´Â º¸ÀÌÁö ¾Ê°Ô µÇ´Â °ÍÀ» ºÎÀÎÇÏ°Ô µÇ´Â ¼Ó¼ºÀÌ

³»ÀçµÇ¾î ÀÖ´Ù°í ¸»ÇÑ´Ù. »ç¶óÁü°ú ¸¶ÁÖÇÏ°Ô µÉ ¶§ ¿ì¸®´Â ¿ì¸® Á¸À縦 ¹«½ÃÇÏ´Â ÀÌ·± »ç¶óÁü¿¡

ÀúÇ×Çϸ鼭 ºñ°¡½ÃÀûÀÎ °Í ¿ª½Ã ½ÇÀçÇÑ´Ù´Â ¹ÏÀ½À» °®°Ô µÈ´Ù´Â °ÍÀÌ´Ù.2) ÀüÁö±¸»ó¿¡ Èð¾îÁ®

ÀÖ´Â ´Ù¸¥ ÀÌÁÖÀÚµéó·³ ÁÖȲ¿¡°Ôµµ ÀÌ·¯ÇÑ ºÎÀçÀÇ ½Ã°¢Àû °æÇèÀÌ ÀÏ»óÈ­µÇ¾î ÀÖÀ» °ÍÀÌ´Ù.

Ÿ±¹¿¡¼­ ±×°¡ º¼ ¶§ ±×´Â º¸´Â ÀÚ½ÅÀ» Æ÷ÇÔÇÏÁö¸¸, °íÇâÀ» ¶°³­ ÀÚ½ÅÀº µ¿½Ã¿¡ ´Ù¸¥ °ø°£¿¡

Á¸ÀçÇÏÁö ¸øÇϱ⠶§¹®¿¡ ½º½º·Î¸¦ ¹èÁ¦ÇÏ´Â ¼ÀÀÌ´Ù. ¶Ç´Â ¹Ý´ë·Î, »ç¶óÁø °ÍÀ» º¸Áö ¸øÇÏ´Â

°íÇâÀ¸·Î µ¹¾Æ¿Â ±×´Â, °°Àº °ø°£¿¡ µ¿½Ã¿¡ Á¸ÀçÇÏ´Â '½ÃÂ÷' ´öºÐ¿¡ Á¤Âø ÀÚµéÀÌ º¸Áö ¸øÇÏ´Â

°ÍÀ» º»´Ù. ±×·¯´Ï±î ±×°¡ º» dz°æµéÀº ÀÌÁÖ¿Í °³¹ß, À̵¿°ú °Ç¼³·Î ½Ã°ø°£´ë°¡ µÚ¾ôÈ÷¸é¼­

ÇѲ¯ µÎÅÍ¿öÁø ±× °æ°èÀÇ Æ´ »çÀÌ·Î Àá½Ã ³ëÃâµÈ, ÀÌ»óÇÑ '°øÅÍ' °°Àº °ÍÀÌ´Ù. 


ÀÌ °øÅÍ¿¡ °Ç¼³µÈ dz°æÀº ±¸Ãà ÀûÀ̶ó±âº¸´Ù´Â ÇØüÀûÀÌ°í, °èȹµÇ¾ú´Ù±âº¸´Ù´Â ¿ì¹ßÀûÀ¸·Î

»ý°Ü³­ °Íó·³ º¸ÀδÙ. ¿ø±Ù¹ýÀû ½Ã¼±ÀÌ ¾ïÁ¦µÈ ÇÁ·¹ÀÓ ¾È¿¡¼­ °Ç¹°À̳ª ³ª¹«´Â Á¶±Ý¾¿ ¾î±ß³ª

ÀÖ´Â ±¸µµ·Î ÀâÇô ÀÖ°í ÀüüÀûÀ¸·Î »öäÀÇ ÅæÀÌ Á¦ÇѵǴ °¡¿îµ¥, À¯µ¶ Áß°æñéÌØÀÌ µÎ²®°Ô

ÀÚ¸® Àâ°í ÀÖ´Ù. ¹°·Ð »çÁø ¸Åü ƯÀ¯ÀÇ »ì¾ÆÀÖ´Â µðÅ×Àϵé·Î ÀÎÇØ È­¸éÀÇ Àü¸é¼º îïØüàõÀÌ

°­Á¶µÇ¸é¼­ °ü¶÷ÀÚÀÇ ½Ã¼±À» ¿©±âÀú±â·Î ºÐ»ê½ÃÅ°´Â È¿°úµµ ³»°í ÀÖ´Ù. ÀÔüÀûÀÌÁö¸¸ ÆòÆòÇÏ°í,

²Ë Â÷ÀÖÁö¸¸ Çã¼úÇØ º¸ÀÌ´Â, ÀÌ Ç³°æ»çÁøÀÇ ±¹¸é¸¶´Ù¿¡ ¿ì¸®ÀÇ 'Áß°£Á¤¼­'°¡ Á¶ÀÀÇϸé, ¼ø°£,

¼­´ÃÇÏ°í Ȳ·®ÇÑ ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿òÀÌ ´À²¸Áø´Ù?! ³ª·Î¼­´Â ÀÌ·± Á¾·ùÀÇ µ¶Æ¯ÇÑ ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿òÀ̾߸»·Î

¼þ°í¹Ì°¡ ´ë¼¼¸¦ ÀÌ·ç´Â ÀÌ ½Ã´ëÀÇ »çȸ °¨¼ºÇаú »ó°ü°ü°è°¡ ÀÖ°Ú´Ù´Â ÆÇ´ÜÀÌ ¼±´Ù.


¾Ë·ÁÁ® ÀÖ´Ù½ÃÇÇ, À̵¥¾Æ¿Í ±×°ÍÀÇ Ç¥ÇöÀÎ °¨¼ºÀûÀÎ ¹°Áú »çÀÌÀÇ Á÷Á¢ÀûÀÎ Á¶È­·ÎºÎÅÍ ¿À´Â

°¨Á¤ÀÌ ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿òÀ̶ó¸é, ¼þ°í´Â È¥µ·½º·´°í ²ûÂïÇϰųª Çø¿À½º·¯¿î Çö»óµé°ú ¹ÐÁ¢ÇÑ °ü·ÃÀÌ

ÀÖ´Ù.3) ¹Ì´Â ¿ì¸®¿¡°Ô ´ë»ó°úÀÇ °Å¸®¿¡ ±âÃÊÇÑ ¹«°ü½É Àû Ä踦 ÁÖÁö¸¸, ¿ì¸®¸¦ ¾ÐµµÇÏ´Â

¹«Á¦ÇÑÀûÀÎ ¼þ°í´Â ¿À·ÎÁö ºÒÄ踦 ¸Å°³·Î Çؼ­¸¸ °¡´ÉÇÑ ¾î¶² Äè¶ôÀ» ¸Àº¸°Ô ÇÑ´Ù. ±×·±µ¥,

È¥¶õ½º·´°í ¹«ÇÑÇÏ¸ç °øÆ÷½º·± ÀÚ¿¬°æ°üÀÌ ¼þ°íÇÔÀÇ °¨Á¤À» Àϱú¿ì±â¿¡ °¡Àå ÀûÇÕÇÑ ´ë»óÀ̾ú´ø

±×·± ½Ã´ë´Â ¹ú½á Áö³ª°¡ ¹ö·È°í, Àΰ£ÀÇ ¹«Àǽİú °¡»ó°ø°£, ÀüÀï°ú Å×·¯ ȤÀº °¡³­°ú Æı¹ÀÌ

ÀÚ¿¬ÀÇ ¼þ°í¸¦ ´ëüÇß´Ù. Àç°³¹ß°ú µÇ»ì¾Æ³­ Åä°ÇÁÖÀÇ, ¹Ì·¡ÀÇ ¿îÇϷΠħŻ´çÇÑ µ¿½Ã´ë Çѱ¹ÀÇ

ÀÚ¿¬µµ ÀÌ¹Ì ¹«·ÂÇØÁú ´ë·Î ¹«·ÂÇØÁ³´Ù. ÀǽÉÀÇ ´ë»óÀ¸·Î °ÝÇÏµÈ ÀÚ¿¬Àº ¹°·Ð, ±× »îÀÇ È¯°æ°ú

±ä¹ÐÇÏ°Ô ¿¬°üµÇ¾î ÀÖ´Â ¿ì¸®ÀÇ ±â¾ï±îÁö Á¤Á¶ÁØ ÇÏ´Â, ¹«Â÷º°ÀûÀÌ°í Àü¸éÀûÀÎ Æı« ±×

ÀÚü¾ß¸»·Î ÀÌ ½Ã±â ¼þ°íÀÇ º»·ÉÀÌ µÇ¾ú´Ù. ±×¸®°í °£½ÅÈ÷ »ì¾Æ³²¾Æ ¼è·«ÇØÁø ÀÚ¿¬ dz±¤Àº

¹ÌÀÇ ÈçÀûÀÌ µÇ¾î ¹ö·È´Ù. ÀÌ·¸°Ô ÀüµµµÈ ¼¼°è¿¡¼­´Â ¹Ì¿¡ ºñ°ßÇؼ­ ¼þ°í°¡ °¨ÁöµÇ´Â °ÍÀÌ

¾Æ´Ï¶ó ¼þ°í ¾Æ·¡ ¹Ì°¡ µû¶ó ºÙ´Â´Ù. À̸¦Å׸é, ¹Ì´Â ¼þ°íÀÇ ±×¸²ÀÚ°¡ µÈ´Ù. ÁÖȲÀÌ ±¸Á¶È­ÇÑ

°øÅÍÀÇ Ç³°æ¿¡¼­ ´À²¸Áö´Â ¾èÀº ½½ÇÄ, ȯ¸ê, ¹«±â·Â °°Àº °¨Á¤ÀÇ ½É¹ÌÀû Á¤Ã¼´Â ¹Ù·Î ±×°ÍÀÌ´Ù.


°ú°Å¸¦ ±â³äÇÏ·Á°í Çϱ⺸´Ù´Â ½º½º·Î¸¦ Æı«Çϴµ¥ °ñ¸ôÇÏ°í ÀÖ´Â ¼þ°í¹ÌÀÇ ÇöÀå,

Á» ´õ Á¤È®È÷ ¸»Çϸé, ¼þ°í¹Ì°¡ '¹ß±¼µÇ°í' ÀÖ´Â ±× ÇöÀåÀ» ¸¸º¸ °´ ÁÖȲÀÌ °È´Â´Ù. »çÁøÀº

¾ÖÃʺÎÅÍ Áß°£°è±Þ¿¡ ¼ÓÇÑ ¸¸º¸°´ÀÇ ´«À» È®Àå½ÃÄÑÁÖ´Â µµ±¸¿´´ÙÁö¸¸, ÁÖȲÀº Áß°£°è±Þº¸´Ù´Â

Â÷¶ó¸® Áß°£Áö´ë¿¡ ¼ÓÇÑ´Ù. ºê·çŬ¸°°ú ¼­¿ï »çÀÌ ±× ¾îµò°¡¿¡ ÀÖ´Â ÁÖȲÀÇ Áß°£ÀÚÀûÀÎ À§Ä¡·Î

ÀÎÇؼ­, ¾Æ¹«·± Á¶ÀÛ ¾øÀÌ 'Çö½Ç' ±×´ë·Î ÂïÀº ±×ÀÇ »çÁøÀ̾߸»·Î ¿ÀÈ÷·Á ÃÊÇö½ÇÀûÀÎ °Å¸®°¨À»

°®°Ô µÈ´Ù. ¿©±â¼­ ±×ÀÇ »çÁøÀÌ Àý ÇÕ ÇÏ´Â, ±×·¯´Ï±î Á¦½ÃÇÏ´Â µ¿½Ã¿¡ À̾îÁÖ´Â ±× °Å¸®°¨Àº

½Ã°£ÀûÀÌ¸ç »çȸÀûÀÎ °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ¼ÕŹÀÌ ¸»ÇÑ ´ë·Î ÃÊÇö½ÇÁÖÀǶõ ÇÑÆíÀ¸·Î´Â Èï°ã°Ô ¶Ç ÇÑÆíÀ¸·Î´Â

°â¼ÕÇÏ°Ô Çö½Ç°ú °ü°è¸¦ ¸Î¾î¾ß Á¦ ÈûÀ» ¹ßÈÖÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ´Ù´Â »ç½ÇÀ» º¸¿©Áֱ⵵ ÇÏÁö¸¸, Çö½ÇÀûÀÎ

°Í¸¸À¸·Î´Â ÃæºÐÄ¡ ¾Ê´Ù´ÂÁ¡À» ¾Ï½ÃÇØÁֱ⵵ ÇÑ´Ù.4) ÇѶ§´Â Çö½Ç¿¡ ´ëÇÑ ºÒ¸¸ÀÌ ¶Ç ´Ù¸¥ ¼¼°è,

°ð À¯ÅäÇǾƸ¦ ÇâÇÑ °¥¸ÁÀ̾ú´Ù. ÀÌÁ¦, ÁÖȲÀÇ »çÁø¿¡¼­´Â ¿ÀºêÁ¦ÀÇ ÇüÅ·θ¸ Çö½ÇÀ» º¸°Ô

µÇ´Â °Í, ±×·³À¸·Î½á ²÷ÀÓ¾øÀÌ Çö½ÇÀÇ ºÎ´çÇÔÀ» ±â·ÏÇÏ°í Àç»ý»êÇÏ´Â °Í¸¸ÀÌ ÁøÁ¤ Çö½ÇÀ»

ÃʱØÇÏ´Â, ÃÊ Çö½ÇÀÌ µÈ µíÇÏ´Ù.


¾Õ¼­ ¾ð±ÞÇß´ø, µÎÅùÇØÁø Áß°æÀº Á¦½ÃÇÏ´Â µ¿½Ã¿¡ À̾îÁÖ´Â ÀÌ °Å¸®°¨ÀÇ ¿äü°¡ µÈ´Ù.

°Å±â¿¡´Â °£È¤ ÇÇÅ©´ÐÀ» ³ª¿Â Ä£±¸µéÀ̳ª »êÃ¥ÇÏ´Â »ç¶÷µé, °¡¹æÀ» ¸Ç ÇлýµéÀÌ ¹æÁ¡À¸·Î

ÂïÇôÀÖ¾î »çÁø Àüü¿¡ ³¶¶ûÇÑ ¿ï¸²À» ´õÇÑ´Ù. ÀÌ ÀÛÀº ¶÷µé¿¡°Ô¼­´Â, ´ë´ÜÇÑ ¾ßÀ¯È¸¸¦ ¿¬ÃâÇÏ´Â

¿¬ÀεéÀ̳ª Á¶±ëÇÏ´Â ¹Ù»Û Á÷ÀåÀÎµé ¶Ç´Â Çпø»ýÈ°¿¡ »ç·ÎÀâÈù Áß°í»ýµéÀÇ È°·Â°ú ÇÇ°ïÇÔ ´ë½Å,

±×·± ÀÏ»óÀÇ Æ®·¢¿¡¼­ ¾à°£ ºñ²¸³ª ÀÖ´Â ÇÑ°¡·Î¿ò°ú ¿©À¯ ±×¸®°í Àϸ»ÀÇ ºÒ¾È°ú ÀÏÅ»ÀÌ °¨ÁöµÈ´Ù.

À̹ø Àü½Ã¿¡´Â º¸ÀÌÁö ¾ÊÁö¸¸, ÁÖȲÀÇ ´Ù¸¥ ÀÛÇ°µé¿¡¼­ À̵éÀº ´Ù½Ã µîÀåÇÑ´Ù. °øÅÍÀÇ Ç³°æ¿¡¼­

ÀÛ°¡°¡ ¸¸³µ´ø, ¿îµ¿Çϴ û¼Ò³âµé, Á¡½É½Ã°£¿¡ ¾ß¿Ü·Î ºüÁø OLµé, °³¸¦ µ¥¸®°í »êÃ¥ ³ª¿Â

Á߳Ⳳ¼ºµéÀÌ ±×µéÀÌ´Ù. À̵éÀ» ¹¦»çÇÏ´Â ÀÏ·ÃÀÇ »çÁøÀº Á¸¾ö¼º°ú Àڹ߼ºÀ» ÀÒÁö ¾ÊÀ¸¸é¼­

ÀڽŵéÀÌ Æ¯Á¤ÇÑ ¼º¿ªÇÒÀÇ "¼öÇà Àû ±³È¯ÇàÀ§"5)¸¦ ÇÏ°í ÀÖ´Ù´Â Á¡À» ¿©½ÇÈ÷ º¸¿©ÁÖ¾ú´ø ÀÌÀüÀÇ

¾ó±¼ »çÁøÀ̳ª ³ë·¡¹æ »çÁø°ú ´ë±¸¸¦ ÀÌ·é´Ù. ¹Ì±¹¿¡¼­ ÂïÀº ÀÌ »çÁø ¼Ó Àι°µéÀº °¢ÀÚÀÇ Ç¥Á¤°ú

½Ã¼± ±×¸®°í Æ÷Á ÅëÇؼ­ ÀþÀº ¾Æ½Ã¾Æ¿©¼ºÀÇ ½Åü¿¡ ºÎ°úµÈ ±Ô¹üÀ» Àü´ÞÇÏ°í, È­Àå¹ý°ú

Çì¾î½ºÅ¸ÀÏ ±×¸®°í Àå½Å±¸¿Í ÀÇ»óÀ» ÅëÇØ ±× ±âÈ£¿Í ±³¼·ÇÏ°í ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. À̵éÀÌ À¯µ¶ ¸ðÈ£ÇÏ°í

»óó¹Þ±â ½¬¿ö ¿´´ø °ÍÀº ±×Àú ÁÖ¾îÁø ¿ªÇÒÀ» ¿¬±âÇÏ´Â ´ë½Å ¾î¶² Ãø¸é¿¡¼­´Â ½º½º·Î »óȲ ÀÚü¸¦

¿¬ÃâÇØ¾ß Ç߱⠶§¹®ÀÌ´Ù. ³ë·¡¹æ »çÁø¿¡¼­ ³ë·¡ÇÏ´Â Àι° ¸øÁö¾Ê°Ô ´º¿å ¼ÒÀç ³ë·¡¹æÀÇ ÀÎÅ׸®¾î°¡

°­Á¶µÇ¾ú´ø ÀÌÀ¯µµ °Å±â¿¡ ÀÖ´Ù. ¿©±âÀÇ »çÁø¿¡¼­µµ ¿ª½Ã Àι°µéÀÌ ¼ÓÇØÀÖ´Â °ø°£Àû ¹è°æ °ð

°øÅÍÀÇ Ç³°æÀÌ ±× ¼öÇ༺ÀÇ ÀåÄ¡·Î¼­ ÀçÇöµÉ °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ¾î·µç, Áö±Ý, »çÁø ¼Ó Àú ¸Ö¸®¿¡¼­ À̵éÀº

¿ÜÄ¡°í ÀÖ´Ù ¡ª "ÇìÀÌ, ¿ì¸® ¼Òdz°£´Ù."


 


1) ¹é¹Î¼®, ÇìÀÌ, ¿ì¸® ¼Òdz°£´Ù, ¹®Çаú Áö¼º»ç, 1999

2) Á¸ ¹ö°Å, ±×¸®°í »çÁøó·³ µ¡¾ø´Â ¿ì¸®µéÀÇ ¾ó±¼, ³» °¡½¿, ±è¿ì·æ ¿Å±è, ¿­È­´ç, 2004

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