..I look for beauty in what I sense is „real‟. Lately, it was the retired elderlies playing Baduk, a traditional Korean “Go” game using rounded white and black stones. Everyone sat around on abandoned chairs of various shapes and colors. They spent time playing a game in a sunken yard under the shadow of a big tree. It was next to a huge road and a busy sidewalk. People walked by, the scene for the 3 months of autumn, not recognizing this monotonous landscape. The main characters vanished when winter came…
My art practice, at its very core, is rumination about the distinction between mundane illusion and ironical reality. Visual influences come from the details of the characters and settings in the environment that the ordinary passerby perceives as trivial. Looking beyond its facade, I find anecdotes behind these mundane scenes; it oozes out in moments. By visually relying on the physicality of the environment, I attempt to describe this innate awareness. I categorize my work into three parts – the body, the mundane, and the potential.
Our human bodies have acted as a tool for centuries and it has built a system for the mechanism by which we are able to do many things. Everything that I experience from birth is registered and then with focus and intuitive understanding of the self, this comes out through the tips of my finger. Through this physicality, forms of my work reflect and record my sensorial experiences. The process of works circulates in questions and irony about everything outside of my prediction in regular mundanity. This otherness exists in the everyday routine of devices, places, people—nothing spectacular or eye-catching. It is on the road and under the bridge. It is by the stairs, in silence, in the eyes of the elderly, and in night landscape. It floats and flows down. It exists in solitude, in vertical and horizontal spaces. The mundane routine determines our method of life and creativity. At the same time, the mundane also creates the illusion and common beliefs that bring about the distance from reality.
The visual lexicons such as form and color contain subtle layers of dialogue between myself and the material. My sculpture aims to be tangible poems written on dimensional space and in time. They endlessly continue to reduce and expand the meaning of the otherness. Clay is a meaningful substitute for the body and a tool of intuition. Through the process of work, clay potentially transforms, sticks, cracks, and breaks; an allegory of our body in time. As exploring the scenery of the environment, I embody residue, inscribing the language of the world onto my body. It is solid and fragile, opened and closed; a body permeates, disappears, reproduces, wears out, gathers, bleeds, and transforms. Things grow in and escape from the body. Its porosity and openings are for inhaling and exhaling. This investigation is a necessary part, driving connections between myself and the world. The gesture of my body is a direct language, whether calculated or not, that mimics handwriting. The constant movement of the hand, similar to my mouth uttering or miming undefined sounds to create a dialogue, translates and reflects forgotten and vain portraits found in everyday society.