Jung Hai Yun
Dec 11, 2009 - Jan 3, 2010Gana Art Center
All that exist are not isolated islands. Or rather, even islands have biotic communities around their coast. As different species inhabit different habitats, both of Hai Yun Jung's vessels and drawers are ready to change their 'species' according to the specifications. Her drawers earn layers of various meanings from everyday items and then grow spontaneously and propagate in the canvas. And they are the 'outside' which contains 'inside' the abstract concepts of the 'obligation of life' and the 'vessel of man' and simultaneously, individual 'insides' in the whole. Needless to say, here, the 'inside' is of a size to be held in a drawer and the latter is large enough to accommodate the former. Thus, the harmony between the 'inside' and the 'outside,' or the 'whole' and the 'individual' could never be simply functional or instrumental. They correspond to each other. They have each other in mind. Her drawers are slowly or quickly divided and repeat themselves, talking with the 'inside,' and remain as the unknown, symbolic sign.
On the other hand, Jung's works seem to be Western paintings at first glance but definitely, Oriental paintings. She uses not oil but water, stone, and metal. Merely, this oriental painter removes the conventions which make Oriental painting to be such, denies the speculative attitude in choosing materials, and is in accord with the contemporary idea that all things can be computed by being split into 0 and 1. Furthermore, she lets the object be sufficient simply by being there. You can only say that here are a few objects, images, and meanings. The structure chosen by the painter's inspiration is painted with gold and metal, gradually filled with the breath that is not yet expected. In her paintings, a line drawn with only one stroke does not dare to talk of the 'spirituality,' and metal and gold get over the decorativeness for appearance's sake eventually after desperate struggle. This is why they reveal the quality of frightening coldness and strength so successfully, which in turn, seems to demonstrate how well the materials are chosen. And the disclosed materiality of the object also suggests the absence of the instrumental understanding of the object. Thus, there is no such thing called absolute center here. All is needed is not looking over the whole structure at a breath but an articulated gaze.
Let us take a closer look at them one by one. Where does come from the strange feeling that you have immediately after seeing the vertical lines that drop sharply without any hesitation or uncertainty and the cubic figures that intersect with them and expand horizontally in her paintings? It might be from the moment when they go against the 'formula for creating harmony through the hierarchy of images' in traditional paintings. The formula is as follows: set up a categorical imperative and in order to maintain it in any case, the stronger part takes charge of 'master' and the weaker 'servant.' The appropriate and rational division of roles inevitably leads to the consequence of the supreme good. The loser has to bow down in front of the winner, playing an auxiliary role. Otherwise, you would only have an 'inharmonious' or a 'desultory, disorderly and untrustworthy' painting. However, this is but one side of a coin. Then, what about this painting? What about the great tit appearing frequently? It does not seem that the 'bird' makes a concession to the 'drawer.' Because no element is a puppet of something else, there is no 'absolute line' to make a painting a painting. Does not it give a piquancy not to see the cowardice of the 'pawn' who is always careful not to draw attention in the 'total'? This is a cool wind of 'delight' blown by the attitude of seeing everything equally.
However, why are her drawers standing in a row repeatedly? If they look similar each other for that reason, it is because the drawers come to assume the nature of 'module' and perform the role very well. When they stand in a line, the differences among them decrease. The more they repeat, the more their differences become indistinct and look homogeneous―unless you are so kind as to spend hours in erasing each characteristic. But if you adhere to the strict standard of reason and look at only their similarity, you will lose the poetic nuances generated from the delicate differences in the signified elements in the very similarity.
Could you conjecture under whose command is each element such as a drawer, a landscape, a vessel, and a bird? Do they seem conforming? They do never show the attitude of 'pretending humility loosely' or 'telling something everybody knows.' But the bare fighter who has broken and come out of the sweet and peaceful shell, that is, the situation where the 'subject' sinks and merges into the surroundings, does not take pains to look powerful. She is on her way home in pursuit of calmness with a disinterested attitude. And she continues to talk to us about the fact that we can memorize landscape only partially, and that though we 'compose' landscape, it is soon 'articulated' and put into pieces rather than stays as a whole. This is because the painter has a keen awareness that the montage scene of a road is an ambivalent situation and she herself is cast in it.
Though uniform modules are digital, the dreamily soft analogue which tries to see all things equally remains in Jung's paintings. The painter may seem to know all and give instructions to the viewer. However, if they understand they can enjoy the play of ambiguous ideas in what she presents, they will experience an agreeably disappointment that such fear is groundless.
Min Young Kwon (Art Critic)