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4.16세월호 참사 2주기 추모展서울특별시 시민청 갤러리 SEOUL CITIZEN HALL2016.04.12 ▶︎ 04.22
참여작가: 강성봉_강기욱_김병주_김은숙_김영화_김천일_김영중_김기호_김선동_김창진_김미선_김학철_기김진호_다케시_두시영_류충렬_문승영_박불똥_박은태_박진화_박흥순_박희정_배인석_박세라_배미정_서수경_성낙중_신주욱_신은영_신현경_송효섭_안만욱_양상용_엄순미_이윤엽_이철재_이재민_이영학_이동수_이성완_이인철_이선미_이원석_이하_이충열_이종헌_장순일_주재환_전진현_정세학_정석현_정석한_최병수_천호석_최연택_황의선_일본작가 9명_나종희_이돈순_이도윤_이선일_정혜영_정지영_성효숙_변대섭_최선희_김윤자_고미정
참여작가: 강성봉_강기욱_김병주_김은숙_김영화_김천일_김영중_김기호_김선동_김창진_김미선_김학철_기김진호_다케시_두시영_류충렬_문승영_박불똥_박은태_박진화_박흥순_박희정_배인석_박세라_배미정_서수경_성낙중_신주욱_신은영_신현경_송효섭_안만욱_양상용_엄순미_이윤엽_이철재_이재민_이영학_이동수_이성완_이인철_이선미_이원석_이하_이충열_이종헌_장순일_주재환_전진현_정세학_정석현_정석한_최병수_천호석_최연택_황의선_일본작가 9명_나종희_이돈순_이도윤_이선일_정혜영_정지영_성효숙_변대섭_최선희_김윤자_고미정
주최 / (사)민족미술인협회 서울지회주관 / 2016 제7회 우리시대 리얼리즘전 기획위원회후원 / (사)민족미술인협회_서울문화재단
꽃 피는 봄이 찾아오고 있지만 가슴시린 계절이다. 온갖 의혹 속에 처참히 희생된 진도 앞 바다의 악몽의 시간은 거리에서의 눈물과 간절한 저항의 하루하루가 더해져 두 해가 되어가고 있다. 304명이 희생되고 9인이 아직 캄캄한 바다 속에 있다지만 어디까지나 이것은 추정일 뿐이다. 확인된 인원, 그러니까 최소가 그렇다는 것이다. 상식으로 설득되지 않는 온갖 의혹들은 전혀 해소되지 못한 채 꼬리에 꼬리를 물고 눈덩이처럼 커져만 가고 있다. 유가족과 시민들의 강력하고 끈질긴 노력으로 구성된 세월호 특조위는 비열한 정치적 흥정으로 반쪽짜리 조사위가 되어 버렸고 예상했듯 악랄한 방해는 그나마 역할에 제동이 걸렸다. 인양업체인 '상하이샐비지'는 온전한 인양은커녕 증거를 훼손하는 작업에만 열중하고 있다는 합리적 의심을 사고 있는 것이 현실이다. 진상규명을 통해 책임자를 처벌하고 안전한 공동체를 만들자는 간절함은 처참히 짓밟혔다. 사건을 새로운 사건으로 덮고 의혹은 또 다른 의혹으로 뭉개버리는 추잡한 방식으로 그들만의 세상을 만들어 가려하고 있다.많은 사람들이 이번 사건을 우리 모두의 문제로 인식하는 것은 이것이 우리 사회의 근본적이고 구조적인 모순에서 출발한다고 보기 때문이다. 이번 전시는 애초 리얼리즘전의 취지에도 부합하고 저들의 물 타기와 공격에 대항해 희망을 말하자는 것이다. 그들의 의도대로 우리가 무기력에 빠져 현실을 외면하고 침묵하게 된다면 스스로에 대한 부정과 자기파괴를 수반할 수밖에 없다는 것이다. 집권세력과 정치 모리배들은 이번 사건의 마무리 수순을 밟는 듯하다. 곧, 있을 4월 총선과 알맹이는 없고 껍데기만 남은 '특조위'는 임기를 다해가고 있다. 뭐든 다 들어주고 해결해 줄 것처럼 눈물을 짜내며 호언장담했던 행정부와 입법부 무리들은 외면과 회피로 일관해왔다.단 한가지 방법 말고는 뭐든 다 해봤다는 유가족의 절절한 분투는 지금 이 시간에도 땅 끝 동거차도 산봉우리에 올라 사고 해역을 지켜보고 있고 삭발을 하고 단식을 하며 진실규명을 위한 법 개정과 특검수용을 요구하고 있다. 우리는 작가로서 진보미술의 양심으로 끝없이 희망을 노래하고 설파해야한다. 99%를 위한 세상을 만들자고 1%만의 세상을 거부한다고 작가적 양심과 작품으로 선언하고 행동해야 한다. 이것이 안전한 사회로 가는 디딤돌이 될 것이다. 미래가 있는 공동체를 만들어 가는 길이다. ■ 제7회 리얼리즘전 기획위원회
꽃 피는 봄이 찾아오고 있지만 가슴시린 계절이다. 온갖 의혹 속에 처참히 희생된 진도 앞 바다의 악몽의 시간은 거리에서의 눈물과 간절한 저항의 하루하루가 더해져 두 해가 되어가고 있다. 304명이 희생되고 9인이 아직 캄캄한 바다 속에 있다지만 어디까지나 이것은 추정일 뿐이다. 확인된 인원, 그러니까 최소가 그렇다는 것이다. 상식으로 설득되지 않는 온갖 의혹들은 전혀 해소되지 못한 채 꼬리에 꼬리를 물고 눈덩이처럼 커져만 가고 있다. 유가족과 시민들의 강력하고 끈질긴 노력으로 구성된 세월호 특조위는 비열한 정치적 흥정으로 반쪽짜리 조사위가 되어 버렸고 예상했듯 악랄한 방해는 그나마 역할에 제동이 걸렸다. 인양업체인 '상하이샐비지'는 온전한 인양은커녕 증거를 훼손하는 작업에만 열중하고 있다는 합리적 의심을 사고 있는 것이 현실이다. 진상규명을 통해 책임자를 처벌하고 안전한 공동체를 만들자는 간절함은 처참히 짓밟혔다. 사건을 새로운 사건으로 덮고 의혹은 또 다른 의혹으로 뭉개버리는 추잡한 방식으로 그들만의 세상을 만들어 가려하고 있다.많은 사람들이 이번 사건을 우리 모두의 문제로 인식하는 것은 이것이 우리 사회의 근본적이고 구조적인 모순에서 출발한다고 보기 때문이다. 이번 전시는 애초 리얼리즘전의 취지에도 부합하고 저들의 물 타기와 공격에 대항해 희망을 말하자는 것이다. 그들의 의도대로 우리가 무기력에 빠져 현실을 외면하고 침묵하게 된다면 스스로에 대한 부정과 자기파괴를 수반할 수밖에 없다는 것이다. 집권세력과 정치 모리배들은 이번 사건의 마무리 수순을 밟는 듯하다. 곧, 있을 4월 총선과 알맹이는 없고 껍데기만 남은 '특조위'는 임기를 다해가고 있다. 뭐든 다 들어주고 해결해 줄 것처럼 눈물을 짜내며 호언장담했던 행정부와 입법부 무리들은 외면과 회피로 일관해왔다.단 한가지 방법 말고는 뭐든 다 해봤다는 유가족의 절절한 분투는 지금 이 시간에도 땅 끝 동거차도 산봉우리에 올라 사고 해역을 지켜보고 있고 삭발을 하고 단식을 하며 진실규명을 위한 법 개정과 특검수용을 요구하고 있다. 우리는 작가로서 진보미술의 양심으로 끝없이 희망을 노래하고 설파해야한다. 99%를 위한 세상을 만들자고 1%만의 세상을 거부한다고 작가적 양심과 작품으로 선언하고 행동해야 한다. 이것이 안전한 사회로 가는 디딤돌이 될 것이다. 미래가 있는 공동체를 만들어 가는 길이다. ■ 제7회 리얼리즘전 기획위원회
- 주재환_흉악_혼합재료_30×46cm_2015
- https://neolook.com/archives/20160412g
Resisting Commoditisation of the Art Object
Song Misook looks at Korean contemporary artists and their strategies for dismantling and transforming existing systems
We are living in the age of late capitalism, dominated, shaped, and determined by global imperialism and its spectacles. The ‘spectacle,’ it is argued, is the form taken by society once the instruments of cultural production have become wholly commoditised and subject to commercial trade, so that aesthetic value becomes ruled by commercial value and artistic expressions are shaped by their ability to attract market sales. (cf. Guy Debord, Society of the Spectacle, 1967, p. 14) Debord further argues that, in the further development of capitalism, the whole sphere of personal consumption is compelled to be reconstructed according to commercial principles. In that case, cultural/artistic products also gain ‘a life of their own’ completely independent of their producers/artists. Debord’s concept of the spectacle is no doubt an elaboration of the earlier critical theories of Lukacs who observed that the growth of capitalism converted all realms of human life more and more into marketable ‘products’ to be bought and sold; thus the commodity form increasingly invaded every kind of conscious/conscientious human activity. (Georgy Lukacs, History and Class Consciousness, 1923) The consequence of this is the fetishism of commodities, which also began to surface in every area of human development as well. Lukacs’ theory of commodity fetishism, in turn, harks back to Marx who was the first to recognise and formulate this notion inherent in the capitalist economic system.
This is a seemingly open and liberated globalised world that, in turn, viciously imposes and condones the commonality of fictions of commoditisation. And while accepting to survive in a neo-liberal economic system, we are politically encouraged to embrace the hegemony of a kind of ‘democracy’ dictated by the logic of global capitalist imperialism. The manifestly generic model of this commoditisation is the ever-growing art market venues, institutional or non-institutional, and the ever-increasing number and scale of international art fairs. Korea is not an exception. Notwithstanding the staggering economic issues the country now faces, the Korean art market is still thriving, and the numbers of audiences/prospective consumer/collectors is growing ever larger. The increasing number of art galleries and quasi-commercial venues existing under the guise of residency programmes or not-for-profit institutions in both public and private sectors attest to that fact. Yet, underneath today’s seemingly prosperous art market which presumably promotes richly developed individual creativity, one cannot help noticing that most of the work represented, though apparently diverse and differentiated as it is, involuntarily condones the effect of commodity fetishism, i.e., commoditisation of the art object. And thus the aesthetic value of the art object becomes increasingly closely related to, or in the worst cases is even measured by its commercial value, which affects the mindset of artists to the point that they feel compelled to produce sellable products/works. There are, however, artists who feel that they are caught between the artistic emancipation assuredly guaranteed by a neo-liberal economic system, and the capitalist dictates that surround and control their production, and by extension, their lives, and that they are constantly oscillating and negotiating between these two seemingly incompatible systems, searching for a solution with which to deconstruct the double-bind status quo that conditions their own existences. The processes of deconstruction are unprecedentedly fluid, uncertain, and often precarious while the outcomes are generating more suspense, suspicion, and critique than conclusion. This is particularly articulated in the works of a group of the artists of the so-called 386 generation (referring to those people who were born in the 1960s, went to college in the 1980s, and were in their 30s when this term was coined), especially those who, after having experienced in their early twenties a critical period in Korean politics, when the uncertainties and confusions resulting from ideological rifts between the left and right reached a radical point, went away from home to further their study abroad and returned, refreshed and well-equipped with first-hand experiences and knowledge of Western contemporary art and its discourses. This distancing would have patently allowed them the courage to confront, challenge, subvert, and/or even redirect, though in rare occasions, not only conventional value systems and canons of the existing art establishment, but bourgeois/capitalist norms and clichés that more or less govern and pervade Korean society in general. The artists selected in this essay—Oh In Hwan, Gim Hong Sok, and Kim Beom—belong to those whom I believe address highly individualised and singular voices that cry out the collective doubts and discontents of their spectacle/commodity fetishism-driven society. These artists engage in time-honored conventions and systems while expressing quite different and diversified interests in artistic and intellectual pursuits. In this respect they all inherit and share certain characteristics of the international art of the early 1970s and 1990s, particularly those of conceptual leanings, producing works that are temporary, ephemeral, participatory, and interactive. This accounts also for the reason why they are rarely represented in the art market, though highly respected by the young aspiring generation of Korean artists, nevertheless invariably inciting the curiosity and attention of the issue seeking/oriented curators and international biennales.
This is a seemingly open and liberated globalised world that, in turn, viciously imposes and condones the commonality of fictions of commoditisation. And while accepting to survive in a neo-liberal economic system, we are politically encouraged to embrace the hegemony of a kind of ‘democracy’ dictated by the logic of global capitalist imperialism. The manifestly generic model of this commoditisation is the ever-growing art market venues, institutional or non-institutional, and the ever-increasing number and scale of international art fairs. Korea is not an exception. Notwithstanding the staggering economic issues the country now faces, the Korean art market is still thriving, and the numbers of audiences/prospective consumer/collectors is growing ever larger. The increasing number of art galleries and quasi-commercial venues existing under the guise of residency programmes or not-for-profit institutions in both public and private sectors attest to that fact. Yet, underneath today’s seemingly prosperous art market which presumably promotes richly developed individual creativity, one cannot help noticing that most of the work represented, though apparently diverse and differentiated as it is, involuntarily condones the effect of commodity fetishism, i.e., commoditisation of the art object. And thus the aesthetic value of the art object becomes increasingly closely related to, or in the worst cases is even measured by its commercial value, which affects the mindset of artists to the point that they feel compelled to produce sellable products/works. There are, however, artists who feel that they are caught between the artistic emancipation assuredly guaranteed by a neo-liberal economic system, and the capitalist dictates that surround and control their production, and by extension, their lives, and that they are constantly oscillating and negotiating between these two seemingly incompatible systems, searching for a solution with which to deconstruct the double-bind status quo that conditions their own existences. The processes of deconstruction are unprecedentedly fluid, uncertain, and often precarious while the outcomes are generating more suspense, suspicion, and critique than conclusion. This is particularly articulated in the works of a group of the artists of the so-called 386 generation (referring to those people who were born in the 1960s, went to college in the 1980s, and were in their 30s when this term was coined), especially those who, after having experienced in their early twenties a critical period in Korean politics, when the uncertainties and confusions resulting from ideological rifts between the left and right reached a radical point, went away from home to further their study abroad and returned, refreshed and well-equipped with first-hand experiences and knowledge of Western contemporary art and its discourses. This distancing would have patently allowed them the courage to confront, challenge, subvert, and/or even redirect, though in rare occasions, not only conventional value systems and canons of the existing art establishment, but bourgeois/capitalist norms and clichés that more or less govern and pervade Korean society in general. The artists selected in this essay—Oh In Hwan, Gim Hong Sok, and Kim Beom—belong to those whom I believe address highly individualised and singular voices that cry out the collective doubts and discontents of their spectacle/commodity fetishism-driven society. These artists engage in time-honored conventions and systems while expressing quite different and diversified interests in artistic and intellectual pursuits. In this respect they all inherit and share certain characteristics of the international art of the early 1970s and 1990s, particularly those of conceptual leanings, producing works that are temporary, ephemeral, participatory, and interactive. This accounts also for the reason why they are rarely represented in the art market, though highly respected by the young aspiring generation of Korean artists, nevertheless invariably inciting the curiosity and attention of the issue seeking/oriented curators and international biennales.
Mechanisms of Deconstruction
The artists cited above almost always employ various critical means and tactics to dismantle, invalidate, and sometimes transform existing systems. For example, Gim often deconstructs the modernist credo of artist=creator hero worship by dismantling the artistic production system, or converting specific social sites into spaces with entirely different functions. He once moved all of his personal belongings from his home into a public space; another of his works transformed a gym into a landscape. Oh likewise refuses to work within the confines of the studio, but collects found objects and debris from the street (bread, cherry, blossom petals, broken glass, wood scraps, etc.) and draws or rearranges a single alphabet letter in the street. (Street Writing Project, 2000~) He then photographs the letter as drawn/assembled in the city street. The letter and the street scene on which it was inscribed are entirely arbitrarily chosen. There is no deliberate connection between the alphabet letter, the scrap material with which it is drawn/written, and the location in which it is inscribed, yet these three elements add spatiality as a third dimension to the conventional linguistic notion of the arbitrariness of the sign. The artist then adds still another element; he displays the photographs of letters side by side so as to compose particular words. The words he chooses seem intentional; 'here', 'there', 'homeless.' Notwithstanding their commonality in disrupting the studio/production system, the intentions and approaches of these two artists to achieve their ends are quite different: while Gim aims at creating other social events and sites of spectacles than normally expected of the artistic space, Oh, on the other hand, is not interested in the collective space as such, but involves himself in the solitary game of language/letters, positing quasi-fundamental questions of life and his self-identity. A tranquil, almost contemplative mood of the work of Oh touches upon the solitary gaze and depth in the mind of the viewer.
Kim Beom chooses to critique preexisting institutional structures in a simple but unique manner; he does not necessarily reject artistic space per se as do the above two artists, but brings into the gallery space daily household products and ‘commodities’ from home (watering can, portable fan, scale, flower vase, thermos bottle, tea pot, detergent bottle, and so on). In one work, he places objects individually on chairs lined up in rows, facing a large brightly lit blackboard covered in scribbled phrases and sentences. On the table next to the blackboard a small TV monitor plays a single-channel video showing a man whose head is cut everywhere but his mouth and thus he can be heard but not seen. The man incessantly talks to/teaches these objects that they are nothing but tools. (Objects Being Taught They are nothing but Tools, 2010) What Kim has tried to do in this piece is quite obvious: he transforms the artistic space into a site featuring and mimicking a half-size present day classroom situation and incites viewers’ direct confrontation of the realities of the educational system. In the same exhibition space, but on a smaller scale, he staged a similar situation: the man in the video elucidates eloquently and sincerely to a rock/stone that it is not a rock but a bird (A Rock that was Taught It was A Bird, 2010). Notwithstanding his humourous yet ironic way of personifying these household objects, the viewer is left with wonder. Is he creating/staging the situation to demonstrate that we, children/humans, personified by these nonfunctional domestic objects, are nothing but tools to be manipulated, commoditised, and eventually disposed of by the society that we live in? Or is he posing a question about or critiquing the Korean education system in particular, or, by extension, the conventional belief systems and dictates of sovereign states where people are taught or brainwashed to believe whatever they are taught to believe? Or, still, is he simply alluding to educational dysfunction?
The artists cited above almost always employ various critical means and tactics to dismantle, invalidate, and sometimes transform existing systems. For example, Gim often deconstructs the modernist credo of artist=creator hero worship by dismantling the artistic production system, or converting specific social sites into spaces with entirely different functions. He once moved all of his personal belongings from his home into a public space; another of his works transformed a gym into a landscape. Oh likewise refuses to work within the confines of the studio, but collects found objects and debris from the street (bread, cherry, blossom petals, broken glass, wood scraps, etc.) and draws or rearranges a single alphabet letter in the street. (Street Writing Project, 2000~) He then photographs the letter as drawn/assembled in the city street. The letter and the street scene on which it was inscribed are entirely arbitrarily chosen. There is no deliberate connection between the alphabet letter, the scrap material with which it is drawn/written, and the location in which it is inscribed, yet these three elements add spatiality as a third dimension to the conventional linguistic notion of the arbitrariness of the sign. The artist then adds still another element; he displays the photographs of letters side by side so as to compose particular words. The words he chooses seem intentional; 'here', 'there', 'homeless.' Notwithstanding their commonality in disrupting the studio/production system, the intentions and approaches of these two artists to achieve their ends are quite different: while Gim aims at creating other social events and sites of spectacles than normally expected of the artistic space, Oh, on the other hand, is not interested in the collective space as such, but involves himself in the solitary game of language/letters, positing quasi-fundamental questions of life and his self-identity. A tranquil, almost contemplative mood of the work of Oh touches upon the solitary gaze and depth in the mind of the viewer.
Kim Beom chooses to critique preexisting institutional structures in a simple but unique manner; he does not necessarily reject artistic space per se as do the above two artists, but brings into the gallery space daily household products and ‘commodities’ from home (watering can, portable fan, scale, flower vase, thermos bottle, tea pot, detergent bottle, and so on). In one work, he places objects individually on chairs lined up in rows, facing a large brightly lit blackboard covered in scribbled phrases and sentences. On the table next to the blackboard a small TV monitor plays a single-channel video showing a man whose head is cut everywhere but his mouth and thus he can be heard but not seen. The man incessantly talks to/teaches these objects that they are nothing but tools. (Objects Being Taught They are nothing but Tools, 2010) What Kim has tried to do in this piece is quite obvious: he transforms the artistic space into a site featuring and mimicking a half-size present day classroom situation and incites viewers’ direct confrontation of the realities of the educational system. In the same exhibition space, but on a smaller scale, he staged a similar situation: the man in the video elucidates eloquently and sincerely to a rock/stone that it is not a rock but a bird (A Rock that was Taught It was A Bird, 2010). Notwithstanding his humourous yet ironic way of personifying these household objects, the viewer is left with wonder. Is he creating/staging the situation to demonstrate that we, children/humans, personified by these nonfunctional domestic objects, are nothing but tools to be manipulated, commoditised, and eventually disposed of by the society that we live in? Or is he posing a question about or critiquing the Korean education system in particular, or, by extension, the conventional belief systems and dictates of sovereign states where people are taught or brainwashed to believe whatever they are taught to believe? Or, still, is he simply alluding to educational dysfunction?
Critique of Clichés/Stereotypes
The renowned French socio-cultural philosopher/theorist Gilles Deleuze once said that if there is such a thing as art, it is always a critique of clichés (Anti-Oedipus). The artists who emerged in the beginning of the new century, including the artists in this essay, engage and challenge the stereotypes imposed on us by the dominant system. Understanding that we all identify with the images through which this society represents us, they claim/appropriate those representations in order to disclaim/dismantle them—a process that induces a change in the viewer’s consciousness. Oh, as a gay Korean male, appropriating critical discourses developed by feminist studies, deliberately uses language as a discursive tool to subvert norms and stereotypes of male dominant/heterosexual society, and at the same time rejects modernist materialistic aesthetics and art practices. And yet, to him language is more than a tool of communication, but a means of social existence. If linguistic communication is disrupted for any incomprehensible reason, a new language or its alternative must be acquired for his survival. For example, his best known work, Where a Man meets Man (2000~) consists of drawing in incense powder on the floor the names of gay bars and clubs in capital roman letters with occasional Korean characters arranged and linked in dynamic and colorful designs: the incense is lit at the opening of the exhibition and allowed to burn until it closes. Oh makes it clear that, as the exhibition space is animated by the immaterial perfume that gradually fills the air with the scent of burning incense, the artist and the viewer are brought together in a shared space, bodily consumed by burning incense. The significance of the words/names is clear only to those who are familiar with these locations, while for others it remains cryptic and puzzling. After the letters all burn out, the exhibition space is left with their ashes, or ‘scars.’ In the same year, Oh conceived another project closely related to the incense piece, entitled Ball of Contents (2001~) which has since become an ongoing project performed every three years. The vinyl texts of words collected from the Korean gay community were first taped to the exhibition wall; when the show ended, these texts were peeled off and pieced together into a ball, as if the body/the material replaces the language/the immaterial. The signs of the words become lost; what gets gained instead is their materiality, which comes to signify the size of the gay community in Seoul. Reminiscent of the work by Felix Gonzalez Torres (a gay American artist who died of AIDS in 1996) of the early 1990s, Oh’s Ball contains the innumerable yet anonymous voices of sexual minorities and their ‘bodily symptoms.’ As the scattered, secluded community becomes unified into a ball, he hopes it can become more independent and free, emancipated from mainstream society. Incidentally, it is quite interesting to note that the shape of the ‘ball’ commonly represents, precisely because of its shape, none other than (a visual pun of) the male sex, just as Surrealist sculptor Giacometti reified this generic form, but for entirely different meaning and purpose, in his Suspended Ball of 1930.
Gim also introduced text plus image, in this case, as a sculptural installation about a socially marginalised group of people, i.e., illegal aliens in fake costumes of the life-like characters from Grimm’s fairy tale entitled Bremen Town Musicians (2006-2007). Unlike Oh’s ‘real community’ rendered in abstract signs/language, the viewer encounters in Gim’s fictitiously arbitrary situations fictional characters presumably performing an unlikely act. Upon close reading into this ‘text spectacle,’ however, one can learn that Gim is referring both to the Grimm’s fairy tale which involves a similar tell-tale of ‘outcast animals finding a new home‘, as well as to Gim’s own copy of the same year of Maurizio Cattelan’s work of 1997 (Love Lasts Forever), as if to appeal and redirect the viewer’s attention and deliberations to his/her hypocritical political correctness or cliché. One can also note the fact that Gim reiterates the theme appropriating the same animal characters of Grimm’s tale in his work; on top the French cock, standing on the Japanese jackal, standing on the English bulldog, and at the bottom, Russian bear. One noticeable difference is that Gim’s characters, no longer standing up to perform the music, are seen lying/fallen on top of one another, creating a poignant topography of the abject and victimised social outcasts. In this work Gim seems to invite the viewer to confront not merely the plight of illegal aliens or migrant laborers—caricatured and ridiculed through both Grimm’s tale and popular cartoon animations as social outcasts and victims of racial discrimination—but also to address the cruel game/logic of existence/survival in this so-called liberated society at large where the antagonising forces of victor and victim, subject and object, the powerful and the powerless constantly revolve in a vicious circle. Viewed in this context, the viewer becomes the silent victor, and the caricatured aliens, the victims of society. On a personal level Gim seems to be addressing his own experience in that he, once the victim/subject of racial discrimination and social outcast (I am referring to his shocking experiences with racial discrimination in his student years in Germany), now finds himself, however involuntarily, assuming the role of the victor/master. Or is he trying somehow to reconcile through his art/text-spectacle, these irreparable gaps? Some commanding phrases in the wall text like ’applaud’ and ‘please refrain from touching ….. or disturbing’, can be read as signs of deference or respect for the victims, thereby inducing some sort of compromise or reconciliation. Or, as one critic observes, does Gim try through socially and politically provocative works to proffer a kind of ‘shock therapy’ for our paralyzed perceptual capacities and sensibilities?
In the above, I have tried to posit an argument that despite the current state of the commodity-driven society and its not-so-desirable effects on the artistic scene in Korea, there are a few artists who have consistently and carefully calibrated their practices into analytical devices, and who deconstruct or at least disturb preexisting institutional systems and constraints for artistic expression. In the process, their art also becomes a conceptual tool for investigating the preconceptions, stereotypical prejudices, or clichés surrounding the/our notions of community, collectivity, and individuality that are inherent in the political and sociological landscape in which they are positioned. Notwithstanding different lifestyles and variegated personal characters and outlooks, they all share similar concerns and doubts about the present and hopes for the future.
It is difficult to determine the extent of acceptance or reception of their works by the public at large at this point, except that the audience is growing larger as they become more frequently publicised through media, and art lovers/amateurs and the art related population grows bigger. And yet their favorable reception is unfortunately not for their ‘true’ intention of artistic expression and/or conception as such, but for the ‘visual’ effect and/or the often shockingly provocative quality of their works. This kind of double jeopardy or distorted view undermines the real character or value of these artists’ work. In addition, some art professionals, artists and art critics alike, who are well-versed in contemporary art and its issues, are also critical of their works being too Westernised, eclectic, and in the worst cases, derivative. Another word of caution is that these artists should not forget the truism that today’s critique becomes tomorrow’s cliché. It is true that, in the history of art, the avant-garde has always pushed the limits of our shared consciousness, of the status quo, and of socio-ethical propriety and customs, exposing the actuality and the true nature of what lies behind them. Numerous methods and tools have been employed to accomplish this. Sometimes the fictitious nature of the work is made to act like a mirror, projecting reality back into the inner depths of consciousness. The work may be simply provocative and relentlessly disturbing, lifting up elements normally hidden beneath society’s surface and thrusting them directly into the viewer’s gaze. At other times, the truth is covered with humour, its message injected through the gaps of the unsuspecting mind. Viewed in this context, they, no matter how eclectic or derivative their work may be, surely belong to the generation of the avant-garde, and that is the reason why young aspiring Korean artists respect them. The undisputable fact that they, despite the unfavorable/pejorative reception of both the public at large and a few art professionals, mark the turning point in the history of Korean contemporary art by ushering in a calibration of the imminent socio-cultural issues of contemporary society and overall systems of the sovereign nation as the subject matter of their work, remains intact and undeniable.
The renowned French socio-cultural philosopher/theorist Gilles Deleuze once said that if there is such a thing as art, it is always a critique of clichés (Anti-Oedipus). The artists who emerged in the beginning of the new century, including the artists in this essay, engage and challenge the stereotypes imposed on us by the dominant system. Understanding that we all identify with the images through which this society represents us, they claim/appropriate those representations in order to disclaim/dismantle them—a process that induces a change in the viewer’s consciousness. Oh, as a gay Korean male, appropriating critical discourses developed by feminist studies, deliberately uses language as a discursive tool to subvert norms and stereotypes of male dominant/heterosexual society, and at the same time rejects modernist materialistic aesthetics and art practices. And yet, to him language is more than a tool of communication, but a means of social existence. If linguistic communication is disrupted for any incomprehensible reason, a new language or its alternative must be acquired for his survival. For example, his best known work, Where a Man meets Man (2000~) consists of drawing in incense powder on the floor the names of gay bars and clubs in capital roman letters with occasional Korean characters arranged and linked in dynamic and colorful designs: the incense is lit at the opening of the exhibition and allowed to burn until it closes. Oh makes it clear that, as the exhibition space is animated by the immaterial perfume that gradually fills the air with the scent of burning incense, the artist and the viewer are brought together in a shared space, bodily consumed by burning incense. The significance of the words/names is clear only to those who are familiar with these locations, while for others it remains cryptic and puzzling. After the letters all burn out, the exhibition space is left with their ashes, or ‘scars.’ In the same year, Oh conceived another project closely related to the incense piece, entitled Ball of Contents (2001~) which has since become an ongoing project performed every three years. The vinyl texts of words collected from the Korean gay community were first taped to the exhibition wall; when the show ended, these texts were peeled off and pieced together into a ball, as if the body/the material replaces the language/the immaterial. The signs of the words become lost; what gets gained instead is their materiality, which comes to signify the size of the gay community in Seoul. Reminiscent of the work by Felix Gonzalez Torres (a gay American artist who died of AIDS in 1996) of the early 1990s, Oh’s Ball contains the innumerable yet anonymous voices of sexual minorities and their ‘bodily symptoms.’ As the scattered, secluded community becomes unified into a ball, he hopes it can become more independent and free, emancipated from mainstream society. Incidentally, it is quite interesting to note that the shape of the ‘ball’ commonly represents, precisely because of its shape, none other than (a visual pun of) the male sex, just as Surrealist sculptor Giacometti reified this generic form, but for entirely different meaning and purpose, in his Suspended Ball of 1930.
Gim also introduced text plus image, in this case, as a sculptural installation about a socially marginalised group of people, i.e., illegal aliens in fake costumes of the life-like characters from Grimm’s fairy tale entitled Bremen Town Musicians (2006-2007). Unlike Oh’s ‘real community’ rendered in abstract signs/language, the viewer encounters in Gim’s fictitiously arbitrary situations fictional characters presumably performing an unlikely act. Upon close reading into this ‘text spectacle,’ however, one can learn that Gim is referring both to the Grimm’s fairy tale which involves a similar tell-tale of ‘outcast animals finding a new home‘, as well as to Gim’s own copy of the same year of Maurizio Cattelan’s work of 1997 (Love Lasts Forever), as if to appeal and redirect the viewer’s attention and deliberations to his/her hypocritical political correctness or cliché. One can also note the fact that Gim reiterates the theme appropriating the same animal characters of Grimm’s tale in his work; on top the French cock, standing on the Japanese jackal, standing on the English bulldog, and at the bottom, Russian bear. One noticeable difference is that Gim’s characters, no longer standing up to perform the music, are seen lying/fallen on top of one another, creating a poignant topography of the abject and victimised social outcasts. In this work Gim seems to invite the viewer to confront not merely the plight of illegal aliens or migrant laborers—caricatured and ridiculed through both Grimm’s tale and popular cartoon animations as social outcasts and victims of racial discrimination—but also to address the cruel game/logic of existence/survival in this so-called liberated society at large where the antagonising forces of victor and victim, subject and object, the powerful and the powerless constantly revolve in a vicious circle. Viewed in this context, the viewer becomes the silent victor, and the caricatured aliens, the victims of society. On a personal level Gim seems to be addressing his own experience in that he, once the victim/subject of racial discrimination and social outcast (I am referring to his shocking experiences with racial discrimination in his student years in Germany), now finds himself, however involuntarily, assuming the role of the victor/master. Or is he trying somehow to reconcile through his art/text-spectacle, these irreparable gaps? Some commanding phrases in the wall text like ’applaud’ and ‘please refrain from touching ….. or disturbing’, can be read as signs of deference or respect for the victims, thereby inducing some sort of compromise or reconciliation. Or, as one critic observes, does Gim try through socially and politically provocative works to proffer a kind of ‘shock therapy’ for our paralyzed perceptual capacities and sensibilities?
In the above, I have tried to posit an argument that despite the current state of the commodity-driven society and its not-so-desirable effects on the artistic scene in Korea, there are a few artists who have consistently and carefully calibrated their practices into analytical devices, and who deconstruct or at least disturb preexisting institutional systems and constraints for artistic expression. In the process, their art also becomes a conceptual tool for investigating the preconceptions, stereotypical prejudices, or clichés surrounding the/our notions of community, collectivity, and individuality that are inherent in the political and sociological landscape in which they are positioned. Notwithstanding different lifestyles and variegated personal characters and outlooks, they all share similar concerns and doubts about the present and hopes for the future.
It is difficult to determine the extent of acceptance or reception of their works by the public at large at this point, except that the audience is growing larger as they become more frequently publicised through media, and art lovers/amateurs and the art related population grows bigger. And yet their favorable reception is unfortunately not for their ‘true’ intention of artistic expression and/or conception as such, but for the ‘visual’ effect and/or the often shockingly provocative quality of their works. This kind of double jeopardy or distorted view undermines the real character or value of these artists’ work. In addition, some art professionals, artists and art critics alike, who are well-versed in contemporary art and its issues, are also critical of their works being too Westernised, eclectic, and in the worst cases, derivative. Another word of caution is that these artists should not forget the truism that today’s critique becomes tomorrow’s cliché. It is true that, in the history of art, the avant-garde has always pushed the limits of our shared consciousness, of the status quo, and of socio-ethical propriety and customs, exposing the actuality and the true nature of what lies behind them. Numerous methods and tools have been employed to accomplish this. Sometimes the fictitious nature of the work is made to act like a mirror, projecting reality back into the inner depths of consciousness. The work may be simply provocative and relentlessly disturbing, lifting up elements normally hidden beneath society’s surface and thrusting them directly into the viewer’s gaze. At other times, the truth is covered with humour, its message injected through the gaps of the unsuspecting mind. Viewed in this context, they, no matter how eclectic or derivative their work may be, surely belong to the generation of the avant-garde, and that is the reason why young aspiring Korean artists respect them. The undisputable fact that they, despite the unfavorable/pejorative reception of both the public at large and a few art professionals, mark the turning point in the history of Korean contemporary art by ushering in a calibration of the imminent socio-cultural issues of contemporary society and overall systems of the sovereign nation as the subject matter of their work, remains intact and undeniable.
Misook Song lives and works in Seoul where she writes a monthly column dedicated to the current state of Korean contemporary art in the Art Guide. Song graduated from Pennsylvania State University with a Ph.D. in art history. She taught art history and contemporary art theory at the Sungshin Women's University for 27 years. She writes criticism about Korean contemporary art and served as commissioner of the Korean pavilion at the 48th Venice Biennale directed by Harald Szeemann where she presented Lee Bul and Noh Sangkyun. She was general/artistic director of the inaugural show of Media City Seoul (Seoul’s media biennale). She founded and serves as President of the Association of East Asian Art and Culture and is also an honorary professor of Sungshin Women's University.
Forest Poems 森林 詩
"Forest Poems" is a work in progress for the group exhibition, "Another energy", that will take place at the Mori Art Museum in Tokyo Japan from April 22 to September 26, 2021.
The concept of the work is that "Forest poems 森林 詩" was conceived during Covid 19 imposed confinement and that the work takes its full meaning from this context.
The “forest of poems” invites each guest to read a poem so as to add to the “voice of silence.”
The participation of about 200-300 readers will be broadcasted six times on the days of the full moon during the Mori exhibition from April 22 to September 26. 2021. The entire performance will be projected in real time on one of the 3 video projectors in Soun-Gui Kim’s exhibition hall at the Mori Art Museum.
In the forest, the life of each constituent (trees, plants, animals, etc.) is both unique and different, separated from one another and at the same time, connected; forming a Whole. Hence, the One is the Multiple. The condition for the survival of the forest is based on collaboration between each member, and their ability to integrate unforeseen events - such as bad weather or viruses, is the essential condition for life.
For this project, I invite international poets/readers to read a poem of their own or whatever they choose. Reading in the poems’ native tongue is preferred, along with an English version, if possible. I want to invite poems of all kinds. I love the sound of words, the joyful dance of sentences, the delicious play of languages.
Poems should be read, but in some cases (sign language), the reading can be done through bodily gestures.
A call for poets across the world will be launched by Soun-Gui Kim and her assistants who together will establish the list of performers and give a subsequent timeline for the performances.
On the agreed day, the Mori Art Museum will call each reader to do a poetry performance of their choice online, via Skype. The performance will be projected in real time through one of the three projectors in Soun-Gui Kim's exhibition hall at the Mori Museum. On the two other projectors will be presented a series of new video work from Soun-Gui Kim conceived for the “Forest Poems,” as well as the video-readings of the collected poems. The presentation of these videos will be done according to a randomization program established on the basis of the daily weather forecast for the city of Tokyo.
Before the performance date, we will invite each participant to have a rehearsal of the poetry reading by Skype or WhatsApp, and we will also record this performance.
Please reply by confirming your participation; sending us your reader-performer’s name; the author and the title of your chosen poem; and finally the text of your poem in a Word or PDF file. This text will serve us to subtitle your performance.
Kim Soun-Gui, Lunes (Moons), 2003-2005
Gelatin silver print, 82.5 x 60 cm (each, set of 12)
Installation view: As the Moon Waxes and Wanes, National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, Korea, Gwacheon, 2014-2015
Recent years have witnessed growing moves worldwide to right inequalities around aspects of identity such as gender, race, ethnicity, and beliefs, and attach greater value to diversity. Also in contemporary art for the past decade or so, attention has turned increasingly to female artists who began their contemporary art careers between the 1950s and 1970s and continue to stay active as artists today.
Another Energy focuses on 16 of these female artists in their 70s or older, from across the globe, who continue to embark on new challenges. Ranging in ages 71-105 with their careers spanning over 50 years, they are originally from 14 different countries, and equally diverse in their current locations. Nonetheless, what these women share regardless of recognition or evaluation by art museums and the art market is a determination to pursue their own distinctive creative path with unshakable conviction in different environments, and in changing times.
Showcasing their wide array of powerful works from paintings, video, sculptures, to large-scale installations and performances, this exhibition contemplates the nature of the special strength - “Another Energy” - of these women who have all continued challenging throughout their long-standing careers. As we attempt to recover from an unprecedented situation, perhaps the sight of these women who have spent their lives walking their own paths with such immovable conviction will offer us new energy to tackle the ongoing challenges.
* Notes on live streaming:
• The duration of each performance will be from 5 to 15 minutes.
• On each performance day, between 30 and 50 readers will participate.
• There will be six days of performance total as in the schedule below. The performance days are based on the full moon days of the 2021 calendar during the time of the exhibition (April 22 to September 26, 2021).
1) April 27, Tuesday,
2) May 26 Wednesday.
3) June 25 Friday,
4) July 24 Saturday,
5) August 22 Sunday,
6) September 21 Tuesday.
• The time of performance is based on Japan time zone, between 10 a.m. and 7 p.m.
• The participation of the performers will be based on their voluntary contribution.
https://www.mori.art.museum/en/exhibitions/anotherenergy/index.html
한국근현대미술사학 Journal of Korean modern and contemporary art history
제 40집, 2020 하반기 2020, vol., no.40, pp. 389-414 (26 pages)
by 한국근현대미술사학회 Association of korean modern and contemporary art history
주재환의 기독교 작업에 내재된 예수정신
The spirit of Jesus embedded in Joo Jaehwan’s Christian work
글: 홍태림 Hong Taelim
초록
본 논문은 민족·민중미술과 사회참여적 기독교의 관계를 검토해 나가는 기반을 마련하기 위해서 주재환의 기독교 작업들을 예수정신에 초점을 맞추어 분석하는 것을 목표로 한다. 주재환은 민중미술의 흐름에 중요한 족적을 남긴 현실과 발언의 창립 동인이자 민족미술협의회의 주요 원로인사였으며 근래에도 기독교와 관련된 작업을 활발히 제작하고 있는 한국현대미술계의 주요 작가이기도 하다. 본인은 이러한 주재환을 연구하기 위하여 그의 전작 중에서 기독교와 관련된 작품들을 목록화하는 작업과 작가와의 면담을 병행하며 연구를 진행했다. 본 연구는 이를 통해서 그가 기독교를 작업에 끌어올 때 사회, 경제, 정치적으로 배제당하고 고통받는 이들에 대한 사랑과 연대 그리고 물질주의, 권력주의, 권위주의, 선민의식에 대한 강한 반대를 의미하는 예수정신을 중요하게 생각함을 파악할 수 있었다.
This paper aims to analyze Joo Jaehwan’s Christian-related works focusing on the spirit of Jesus in order to lay the foundation for reviewing the relationship between ethnic and popular art and social participatory Christianity in the long term. The reason why chose Joo Jaehwan as a research target is because he is the founder of the Reality and Utterance an important mark on the flow of Minjung Art, and is a major senior member of the Korean People s Artists Association, and he is actively creating Christian-related works these days. This study first worked to list Christian-related works among his previous works. In the process of listing Joo Jae-hwan’s Christian work, I had a meeting with the Joo Jae-hwan’ at the same time. Through interviews, I was able to see that he values the spirit of Jesus, which is love and solidarity for those who are excluded and suffering socially, economically and politically when he brings Christianity to work, and which means strong opposition to materialism, powerism, authoritarianism and elitism.
https://www.kci.go.kr/kciportal/ci/sereArticleSearch/ciSereArtiView.kci?sereArticleSearchBean.artiId=ART002668287
photos via instagram 홍태림
Knocking Air 공기를 두드려서
https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=4399504823397367&set=pcb.4399505123397337
via instagram
잃어버린 시간의 연대기 The Chronicle of Lost Time
2021년 4월 15일 - 6월 20일
서울대학교미술관 Seoul National University Museum of Art
참여작가: 고낙범, 권오상, 김기라, 김홍석, 데비 한, 박이소, 배찬효, 신미경, 위영일, 이동기, 이병호, 이완, 이용백, 주재환, 홍경택
‘잃어버린 시간의 연대기’-해석의 분량이 채워질 때까지
역사를 현재 속으로 불러내는 작업은 언제나 흥분되는 일입니다. 역사는 새로운 장이 열리기를 기다리기에 앞서, 먼저 그 교두보로서 자신-역사-을 읽을 준비가 된 해석자를 기다립니다. 그리고 그 해석의 분량이 충분해지는 순간, 역사는 스스로 변화의 임계점에 도달했음을 인식합니다. 그때가 이르면, 역사는 의지를 다 해 세트뿐 아니라 무대 자체를 바꿉니다.
수년 전, 국내에서 열렸던 한 비엔날레는 주제로 ‘아시안 익스프레스’를 내세웠습니다. 전시를 감독했던 큐레이터는 극동 아시아를 “맹렬한 속도로 질주하는 특급열차(Express)”에 비유했습니다. 적절한 비유였습니다. 역사학자 하워드 진도 그렇게 생각했습니다. 진에 의하면, 역사도 바로 ‘질주하는 열차’와 다르지 않습니다. 하지만 승객들은 자신이 승차한 열차의 종착역에 대해 아는 것이 그리 많지 않습니다. 달리는 열차 안에서 승객들은 종종 무거운 시험에 직면합니다. 예술도 그 승객들 가운데 포함되어 있습니다. 예술도 다른 승객들처럼, 종착역에 대한 무지 속에서, 인식하고 판단하고, 그리고 선택해야 합니다. 지난 세기 초의 전위주의는 달리는 열차에서 뛰어내릴 것을 촉구했었음을 우리는 잘 알고 있습니다.
《잃어버린 시간의 연대기》 전은 한국현대미술에 대한 성찰적 읽기의 일환으로 기획되었습니다. 한국현대미술은 찬연하고 파란했던 근현대사의 시간을 뚫고 질주해 왔고, 여전히 질주하는 중입니다. ‘서양미술’이 신화로서 작동했던 초기 단계에, 한국현대미술은 서양미술을 때론 거울로 때론 이정표로 삼았고, 그로부터 ‘지금 이곳의 삶’의 재현과 표현, 해석과 비평의 지평에 어려움이 초래되기도 했습니다. 그 시간들이 어느덧, 한발 치 뒤로 물러서 치열한 해석과 담론의 용광로로 유입되고 있습니다. 이제 우리는 그 시간을 해석자의 책상 위로 올려놓습니다.
우리는 앞을 내다볼 수는 없지만, 해석자의 차가운 인식과 예언자의 뜨거운 심장을 가질 수는 있습니다. 중심세계로부터 나오는 지시와 명령을 곧이곧대로 따르지 않는 힘, 중심으로서 권장되거나 강요되던 가치로부터의 자유를 따르고자 할 수는 있습니다. 《잃어버린 시간의 연대기》 전이 제기하는 논의가 그런 수준으로까지 나아갈 수 있을 것인가에 대해서는 확신이 부족합니다. 하지만, 시간의 산책자들에게 잠시 사색의 여지를 줄 수는 있지 않을까요. 이 순간을 함께 하는 참여작가들과 깊은 연대감을 느낍니다.
라면 좋아하는 남자는 섹스도 좋아해?
http://www.hani.co.kr/arti/science/science_general/525754.html?utm_source=twitterfeed&utm_medium=twitter
연극무대 선 교수·대학원생…“라면 통해 과학이해 돕는 실험극”
“우리가 라면을 먹는 게 아니라 산업생산 시스템이 우리에게 라면을 먹이는 겁니다. 라면은 제품이 아니라 프로그램입니다. 이에 저는 오늘 이 자리에서 자연과학과 인간 통찰을 융합하는 새로운 학문, ‘라면과학’을 제안합니다.”
무대에 선 자칭 ‘비평과학자’(이영준 계원예대 교수)는 짐짓 선언적인 어투로 이렇게 말하며, 첫 연구 주제로 ‘라면의 남성성’을 분석할 것을 주문한다. 이어 동물행동학자·뇌과학자·분자생물학자가 차례로 등장해 자신이 이룬 라면과학의 연구 결과를 발표한다.
27일 오후 서울 용산 서계동에 있는 국립극단 백성희장민호극장에서 리허설이 한창인 이색 과학연극 <라면 앙상블>(연출 이영준·김나영)은 과학학과 분자생물학을 공부하는 대학원생 4명과 이 교수가 지난해 여름부터 준비한 실험극이다.
“몇 달 동안 연구논문들을 찾아 읽으며 대본을 만드는 일이 가장 힘들었어요.” 임소연(35·서울대 과학사·과학철학협동과정)씨는 “라면과학의 이야기는 당연히 허구이지만 허구와 사실을 뒤섞어 사실처럼 관객에게 보여주려는 게 이 연극의 핵심”이라고 말했다.
허구는 그럴 듯하게 이어진다. ‘동물행동학자’(임소연)는 남자들의 집단적 라면 소비가 진화적 적응 전략의 산물임을 게임이론의 수학 모형으로 입증하고, ‘뇌과학자’(장하원)는 남자가 라면 자극을 받을 때 활성화하는 뇌 부위는 성적 자극 때의 활성화 부위와 일치한다는 연구결과를 내놓는다. ‘분자생물학자’(김연화·온봄)는 라면에서 남성호르몬과 관련 있는 성분을 찾아냈다고 말한다.
라면의 허구가 왜 엉뚱하게 무대에서 엄정한 과학과 만났을까? 이 교수는 “과학을 풍부하게 이해하는 지적 재미”라며 “과학은 늘 엄밀하다고 말하지만 사실 과학 활동을 하는 인간은 여전히 모호하고 주관적인 존재라는 사실을 돌아보는 무대가 됐으면 한다”고 말했다.
국제다원예술축제 ‘페스티벌 봄’의 참여 작품으로 28·29일 두 차례 공연한다. 실험극을 담은 책도 나올 예정이다.
The life of the blood
과학과 예술 융복합 국제세미나
#한국과학창의재단
#리츠칼튼, Seoul
2016
https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=1248931661846591&set=pcb.1248932001846557
큐레이팅 Curating 9X0X
책은 큐레이터 백지숙, 김홍희, 김성원, 이영철, 안소연, 이영준, 김선정과 연구자 박가희, 이지원, 전효경, 문혜진, 김해주, 윤지원, 이지원의 1:1 대담으로 구성됩니다. 이들이 나눈 90년대와 2000년대 한국 미술에서의 큐레이팅의 전개와 각 큐레이터의 생각, 전시의 기록과 더불어 이 대담의 맥락이 되는 시대와 제도에 대해 설명해줄 수 있는 정서영, 김장언, 서동진의 글을 포함합니다.
⠀
글: 김선정, 김성원, 김장언, 김해주, 김홍희, 문혜진, 박가희, 백지숙, 서동진, 안소연, 윤지원, 이영준, 이영철, 이지원, 전효경, 정서영
편집: 김해주, 이지원, 전효경
디자인: 헤이조
언어: 국문
324 페이지
ISBN: 979-11-88658-26-8
정가 22,000원
큐레이터 토크: 9X0X
2018.10. 2 – 10.13, 화, 목 5pm, 토 2pm (총 토크 6회 및 세미나: 10. 9 화 2pm)
아트선재센터 B1 아트홀
아트선재센터 B1 아트홀
큐레이터 토크 6: 이영준 (대담자 윤지원)
2018. 10. 13 (토) 14:00
1999년의 «사진은 우리를 바라본다»를 출발점 삼아, 20년 간 이영준이 기획한 전시 중 넷을 꼽아 살펴본다. (사진)이미지의 위상이 급격한 변화를 겪은 20년 동안 사진비평가는 어떻게 이미지비평가가 되고 기계비평가가 되었는지, 이에 따라 만들어낸 전시는 어떻게 달라지는지, 비평가가 만드는 전시는 작가 혹은 큐레이터가 만드는 전시와 어떻게 같고 다른지, 비평과 전시는 어떤 관계를 맺는지를 살펴보는 자리가 될 것이다.
http://www.artsonje.org/curatortalk_9xox/?fbclid=IwAR1cHCuqFC0vK90qgXUv4G3sY9t7CH2m6DJByHSwRdOP0eVuqwLaBQO1E78#
le Chateau des Destins Croisees + Completement a l’Ouest
Duel-invitation, le Chateau des Destins Croisees, group exhibition curated by Dessislava Dimova & Stephane Pauvret, Glassbox, Paris, 2003
+ Completement a l’Ouest, group exhibition, Nantes, 2003
Completement a l’Ouest, edited by Patrice Joly,
Zero Deux / Association Zoogalerie, Nantes, 2003
(in collaboration with l'École des beaux-arts de Nantes),
with Saàdane Afif, Laurent Grasso, Christine Laquet, Michelle Naismith, Douglas Park, Lili Reynaud-Dewar, Didier Rittener, Kristina Solomoukha (2004)
Le Chateau des Destins Croisees / The Castle of Crossed Destinies
curated by Dessislava Dimova and Stephane Pauvret,
Glassbox, Paris, 2003
©, Copyright, Becky Beasley.
Douglas Park reciting 'Disrehearsal',
from 'Au Revoir Moodle Pozart', Michelle Naismith,
Fruitmarket Gallery, Edinburgh, 2003
http://michellenaismith.com/Disrehearsal-Douglas-Park
Zoo galerie présente I SEE THE FACE
Une exposition de Michelle Naismith
du 22 octobre au 26 novembre 2005
Michelle Naismith est arrivée à Nantes en 2001, pour tenter la fameuse résidence de l’école des beaux-arts de Nantes qui à cette époque attirait des artistes de par le monde entier. Retenue par le jury composé entre autres de Clémentine Deliss et de Robert Fleck, elle effectua deux “saisons” au lieu d’une… À l’inverse des séries télé US qui négocient leur réapparition d’une année sur l’autre en fonction des retours d’audimat, la promotion 2001/2002 du post-diplôme dut sa reconduction au flottement surréaliste qui accompagna les mutations d’une institution jadis plébiscitée, plus qu’à une réelle demande de la part des responsables d’une école pour le moins déboussolés. Placée sous les auspices d’un atterrissage insolite, la première présentation de l’artiste glaswégienne ne devait pas décevoir ces attendus. PALAIS DE JUSTICE (I Choose Also Black) fut présenté à Zoo galerie (montré précédemment à Fruitmarket, Édinburgh) dans le cadre d’un commissariat “maison”, réalisé par April Durham, autre membre de ce team circonstanciel. Dans une atmosphère hallucinée, le film retrace l’itinéraire d’une créature grotesque, tout droit sortie de l’univers de Lewis Carroll et zigzagant le long des quais de la Loire. Les dérives urbaines de cet Humpty Dumpty mystico-mélancolique nous font découvrir une ville inconnue des dépliants touristiques où les noceurs égarés finissent leurs agapes dans des boîtes de nuit d’un autre âge. En toile de fond, la masse noirâtre du palais de justice de Jean Nouvel au sommet duquel scintille une enseigne clignotante. Cette improbable transformation du monolithe menaçant en casino flamboyant synthétise l’esthétique de M. Naismith : une fantasmagorie douceureuse qui convoque les icônes du pouvoir séculier afin de les liquéfier dans une féérie intemporelle.
Saison 2 : un an plus tard, Complètement à l’Ouest réunit dans les mêmes lieux un petit groupe d’artistes autour de la “désorientation”. Réflexion en forme de pied de nez à l’instrumentalisation touristique de l’art contemporain par l’industrie culturelle, la thématique de l’exposition semble taillée sur mesure pour l’artiste tant la dimension de l’errance (métaphorique et réelle) présente dans son travail apporte une réponse définitivement déceptive à la question de la fonction de l’art : find your own way ! nous dit-elle en gros… Elle y présente un nouvel opus mettant en scène Moodle Pozart, le chien gourou qui apparaît et disparaît au fil d’une succession de saynètes hétéroclites. On y retrouve le même faux rythme associé à une musique entêtante. La production a multiplié les seconds rôles, épaississant l’intrigue et tissant les lignes de fuite. Mais les éléments du drame, ésotérique et diffus, singeant la pesanteur de l’allégorie, restent inchangés, nous laissant seuls régler nos petits problèmes métaphysiques.
Patrice Joly (texte extrait du catalogue de Michelle Naismith édité à l’occasion de ses expositions à Zoo galerie et à l’Espace Croisé de Roubaix).
« Michelle Naismith élabore des univers fictionnels où des personnages singuliers voire baroques évoluent au sein d’environnements urbains hyperréalistes. La plupart du temps immobiles, hiératiques, les protagonistes de ses contes vidéographiques restent le plus souvent silencieux. La narration s’y déploie en décalage du jeu des acteurs, par le biais d’une voix off, d’une bande-son omniprésente qui emprunte à des registres aussi différents que la pop et la grande musique, ou bien par l’inscription d’un texte à l’écran.
Pour sa dernière oeuvre vidéo, Michelle Naismith a planté sa caméra sur les collines d’Hollywood. Situé à la frontière entre reportage people et fiction, I see the face met en scène plusieurs poncifs en vigueur dans les productions made in USA : le décor — palmiers, piscine…—, les personnages — le scénariste, la productrice —, sans oublier l’intrigue, axée sur la présentation d’un projet de film comme il s’en conçoit et défait des dizaines dans La Mecque du cinéma. Déviant le récit par une succession d’incongruités et de détails insolites qui vient en ruiner l’illusion réaliste, I see the face nous convie sur la scène de cet univers — impitoyable ? — de l’industrie du film et de son corollaire, le show-business.
L’installation présentée à Zoo galerie inscrit cette réalisation vidéographique dans un environnement qui se construit comme en écho, lisse et cosmétique tel ce masque blanc et poudré qui orne l’espace customisé « Côte Ouest ». À travers cette virtuose mise en abyme de nos fantasmes de papier glacé, Michelle Naismith pose un regard mi-amusé mi-désenchanté sur cet imaginaire formaté par le star-system. Épinglant le cinéma comme art de l’artifice, elle interroge subtilement nos propres pratiques, qui, du name-dropping à la consommation culturelle frénétique, influencent l’art d’aujourd’hui.
»
Vidéozarts (Anouk Roussel & Patrice Allain)
Co-production Videozarts (Nantes), Zoo galerie et l’Espace Croisé (Roubaix).
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