Posts Tagged ‘Korea’

9th Gwangju Biennale: ROUNDTABLE

Friday, August 3rd, 2012

7 September– 11 November, 2012
Biennale Hall & other venues, Gwangju (Jeolla Province, South Korea)
Opening hours: Monday – Sunday, 9:00-18:00
Admission: 11,000 won
http://gb.or.kr

by Andy St. Louis

**This review originally appeared in ELOQUENCE Magazine (August 2012)

Joana Hadjithomas and Khalil Joreige, Circle of Confusion (2010). Courtesy the artists, The Third Line (Dubai), CRG Gallery (New York), and In situ Fabienne Leclerc (Paris).

 

First held in 1995, the Gwangju Biennale has long been a champion of contemporary artists working across all mediums and practices worldwide. The exhibition has solidified its reputation over the past decade, thanks in large part to the extraordinary lineup of accomplished curators that have guided its development over the years. This year, the 9th Gwangju Biennale is set to carry on this tradition of progressive and mindful stewardship with the appointment of six Co-Artistic Directors. Although each is a groundbreaking curator in her own right, as a collective curatorial entity these six women propose an unorthodox challenge to the more conventional curatorial approaches that have prevailed in the biennale’s history.

‘History’ has always played a key role in defining conceptual frameworks for the Gwangju Biennale’s exhibitions. Looking ahead to September and the 9th Gwangju Biennale, the question that looms largest for most people has been: how will this year’s exhibition continue to reinvigorate and engage with issues in contemporary art in ways that are fresh and relevant today? Faced with such a challenge, the exhibition’s Co-Artistic Directors have thrown open the curatorial conversation, abdicating the authority to endorse any single ‘officially-approved’ position. ‘ROUNDTABLE,’ the theme of this year’s biennale, is presented as a platform for open-ended collaboration, with the principal objective of arriving at a more qualified assessment and comprehensive interpretation of notions of the individual and the collective—a dichotomy that brings itself to bear on artistic practice as well as society in general.

Aki Sasamoto, Centrifugal March (2012). Photo Daisuke Yamashiro / Courtesy the artist

By its very definition, the social institution of the ’roundtable’ eliminates the conditioned visual hierarchies implied by other seating arrangements. In the context of discussion or debate, roundtables are considered neutral sites that enable interactions in which distinctions of social standing and authority are rendered null and void; in a circle, all criteria for establishing an ‘optimal position’ cease to apply. Taking this as its guiding principle, ‘ROUNDTABLE’ simultaneously describes the working relationship of the exhibition’s six Co-Artistic Directors, the conversational interaction of the exhibition’s various interrelated sub-themes, and the non-linear structure of the exhibition at large.

Discrete topics of interest—such as isolation, migration, mass communication, and the relationship between group trauma, memory and history—will be parsed from the exhibition’s wider conversation by the 90 artists and collectives (from over 40 countries) set to participate in ‘ROUNDTABLE.’ Collectively, they provide an impressive cross-section of contemporary artistic practice worldwide; individually, they reveal the variety of contexts that lead to qualified interpretations of the entire group as a collective unit. With so many individual perspectives converging within a common discursive space, there’s no guarantee that things will always go smoothly. According to the exhibition’s Co-Artistic Directors, conflict isn’t just a possibility, it’s an expectation. “The works may at times be in conversation or at times in opposition with one another,” they announced at a panel discussion hosted by the Tate Modern in June. “We have collaborated to create a platform where a shifting relationship between works and multi-faceted themes is possible, creating points of connection and conversation.”

This year’s exhibition aims to facilitate unprecedented levels of connection and conversation by providing access to more voices than ever before. Building upon the Gwangju Biennale’s historic commitment to supporting artists, ‘ROUNDTABLE’ addresses the increasing importance of process and locality in contemporary artistic practice by subsidizing more than 40 commissions for new work, 15 residencies and 11 performances. A cycle of symposiums known as Workstations gathers select groups of non-artist voices to offer insight from a distance, presenting alternate models for advancing the exhibition’s curatorial objectives. Online, ‘ROUNDTABLE’ hopes to engage global audiences via a series of E-Journals which explore a set of themes related to the biennale’s overall concept. The pledge to maximize access on all fronts applies at the local level as well, with the exhibition set to extend beyond Biennale Hall and into various spaces of cultural exchange across the city (including a cinema, traditional market and Buddhist temple). The result, it is hoped, will be an exhibition not only encouraging collaboration but indeed personifying it.

Sara Nuytemans, Observatory of the Self version 2.1 (2011). Courtesy the artist

The exhibition planned for this year’s 9th Gwangju Biennale is nothing if not ambitious. Heavy on concept and high in potential, ‘ROUNDTABLE’ refuses to shy away from the expectations part and parcel of Asia’s premier contemporary art exhibition. The six curators tasked with filling the tall order of history have taken the challenges and opportunities of working as a collective unit and incorporated them seamlessly into the very core of what the exhibition is all about. They have assembled a group of participating artists and collectives that is as strong as it is diverse, yet the question remains: will their work be able to cohere under the weight of the biennale’s high-stakes conceptual scheme? In the end, the litmus test will be to see whether the exhibition’s public is able—not to mention willing—to shoulder its share of collaborative responsibility that ‘ROUNDTABLE’ is depending upon. Results notwithstanding, this is precisely the sort of game-changing gamble required to effectively challenge the status quo, and a necessary one for the Gwangju Biennale to prove itself as an agent for progress in the 21st century.

PARTICIPATING ARTISTS:

A Gentil Carioca [Botner e Pedro + Fabiano Gonper] (Brazil) – Abraham Cruzvillegas (Mexico) – Adam Broomberg + Oliver Chanarin (UK/ South Africa) – Agung Kurniawan (Indonesia) – Ahn Kyuchul (South Korea) – Ai Weiwei (China) – Aki Sasamoto (Japan/ USA) – Ala Younis (Palestine/ Jordan) – Allan Kaprow (USA) – Allan Sekula + Noel Burch (USA) – Ana Husman (Croatia) – Andy Hope 1930 (Germany) – Anri Sala (Albania/ Germany) – Benjamin Armstrong (Australia) – Bibimbbap [Sang­‐hwa Park, Han‐byul Jang, Mae-­lee Lee, Han-­‐yeol Kim, Un Kang] (South Korea) – Boris Groys (Germany) – CAMP (India) – Choi Mi‐Yeon (South Korea) – Chosil Kil (South Korea) – Chris Marker (France) – Chto delat? / What is to be done? (Russia) – Craig Walsh + Hiromi Tango (Australia/ Japan) – Dane Mitchell (New Zealand) – Darinka Pop‐Mitic (Serbia) – Delaine Le Bas (UK) – Dick Verdult (Netherlands) – Do Ho Suh (South Korea) – Fayçal Baghriche (Algeria) – Fouad Elkoury (France/ Lebanon) – Gulnara Kasmalieva + Muratbek Djumaliev + ArtEast School for Contemporary Art, Bishkek (Kyrgyzstan) – Han Dong (China) – Haroon Mirza (UK) – Hyun Tack Cho (South Korea) – James Cahill (USA) – Jangarh Singh Shyam (India) – Jenny Holzer (USA) – Jeong-­lok Lee (South Korea) – Jihae Hwang (South Korea) – Joana Hadjithomas + Khalil Joreige (Lebanon) – Josef Dabernig (Austria) – Julia Dault (Canada/ USA) – Julieta Aranda + Anton Vidokle (Mexico/Russia) – Jun Yang (China/ Austria) – Jung Yoonsuk (South Korea) – Juyeon Kim (South Korea) – Kelly Schacht (Belgium) – Kim Beom (South Korea) – Kimsooja (South Korea) – Laurent Grasso (France) – Li Fuchun (China) – Li Ran (China) – Lu Yue (China) – Magnus Bärtås (Sweden) – Maha Maamoun (Egypt)  –  Maki Toshima (Japan) – Malak Helmy (Egypt) – Mark Bradford (USA) – Michael Joo (USA) – Mônica Nador (Brazil) – Moon Kyungwon + Jeon Joonho (South Korea) – Motoyuki Shitamichi (Japan) – Nasrin Tabatabai + Babak Afrassiabi (Netherlands/ Iran) – Nástio Mosquito (Angola) – Noh Suntag (South Korea) – Pedro Reyes (Mexico) – Poklong Anading (Philippines) – Porntaweesak Rimsakul (Thailand) – Rasheed Araeen (UK) – Rim Dong Sik (South Korea) – Rirkrit Tiravanija (Thailand) – Royce NG (Hong Kong/ Australia) in collaboration with Zebadish Arrington, Suhuu Goh + Soichiro Mitsuya (USA/ South Korea/ Japan) – Sara Nuytemans (Belgium) – Scott Eady (New Zealand) – Sejla Kameric (Bosnia-­‐Herzegovina) – Sheba Chhachhi (India) – Shuruq Harb (Palestine) – Simon Fujiwara (UK) – Slavs and Tatars (Eurasia) – Sophia Al-­Maria (Qatar) – Tintin Wulia (Indonesia) – Tobias Rehberger (Germany) – Tu Wei­‐Cheng (Taiwan) – U Sunok (South Korea) – Varda Caivano (Argentina) – Vertical Submarine (Singapore) – Wael Shawky (Egypt) – West Eastern Divan Orchestra (Israel/ Palestine/ Arab World) – Wolfgang Laib (Germany) – Wu Tsang (USA) – Xijing Men [Chen Shaoxiong, Gimhongsok, Tsuyoshi Ozawa] (China/South Korea/ Japan) – xurban_collective [Guven Incirlioglu + Hakan Topal] (Turkey) – Yerbossyn Meldibekov (Kazakhstan)

Rasheed Araeen, The Reading Room ZKM (1987-2011). Installation view from the exhibition "The Global Contemporary. Art Worlds after 1989" (2011) at ZKM, Karlsruhe. Photo Steffen Harms / Courtesy the artist and ZKM Karlsruhe

 

The Color of Calm at Laughing Tree Gallery

Monday, February 7th, 2011

Haebangchon
29th January- 5th February 6-9pm
6th- 12th February by appointment
Admission: free
Contact: info@LaughingTree.com
www.laughingtree.com

by Andy St. Louis

These days, it seems that a lot of “fine art” has lost that which for so long had defined it; namely beauty, a concept which is inherently impossible to consider objectively. Theories abound as to what makes an object, person or image beautiful, but in the end it all comes down to the emotional response automatically triggered as a result of certain combinations of rods and cones being activated on the retina. In the the nanoseconds before the brain begins to infer all sorts of data and mental assimilations from the content of an image, there is an intuitive—or reflex—appraisal that takes place instantaneously. Certain combinations of shapes and colors, arranged in certain compositional forms and dimensional formats, make us happy or sad, excited or lethargic, agitated or calm, all simply because of what they look like, not what they mean.

Anya Dennis, "Fortitude" (2010). Courtesy of the artist.

Anya Dennis, "Fortitude" (2010). Courtesy of the artist.

Though most visual artists don’t likely think along such scientific (read: deconstructionalist) lines, it’s easy to pick out the ones who justifiably might do just that. Mark Rothko, Piet Mondrian, Ellsworth Kelly, Jackon Pollock—all painters—as well as Anish Kapoor and Richard Serra—both sculptors—immediately come to mind, their work eschewing higher-order thinking in favor of what the Korean Zen master Seung Sahn would call “no-mind.” But to associate photographers with this school of aesthetic thought and artistic practice is no easy task; perhaps because photography is inherently a means of capturing “actuality” (fact, narrative, documentation) or perhaps because a photo represents the encapsulation of an instant whereas a painting or sculpture represents instead the culmination of an artist’s prolonged interaction with a medium. It would seem easier for painters and sculptors to explore, develop and cultivate such a direct emotional engagement with their artwork, given the sheer amount of time required to get it “just right,” working and struggling with it until it speaks the language of “no-mind.” So when one discovers photographs (apart from photograms à la László Moholy-Nagy) that speak this language, it’s best to take note.

Anya Dennis, "Ritual" (2010). Courtesy of the artist.

Anya Dennis, "Ritual" (2010). Courtesy of the artist.

“The Color of Calm,” a solo exhibition by New York-based photographer Anya Dennis, is the impetus for precisely this sort of revelatory experience. Currently on view at the intimate Laughing Tree Gallery in Haebangchon, Dennis’s photos trigger a reflex sense of serenity, balance and calm. The power of suggestion, of course, plays not a small role in conditioning viewers to embrace a pre-rational way of looking and abandon—or at least try to ignore—the free associations that create “mental noise.” And yet, the whole show could do without any title whatsoever and would still speak the same way to its viewers.

Created over a period of two months in the summer of 2010, the photos selected for this, the artist’s first international exhibition, reflect the ways in which color, beauty and emotion are inextricably linked. In this case, Dennis explores this relationship using the color green as her point of entry, a color full of latent symbolism via notions of renewal, growth, nature and vitality. While she certainly taps into the natural environment in some her subject matter, more often than not the color green finds its way into her photos innocently, or even subversively in some cases. In Ritual, for instance, one of the more overtly portraiture-oriented photos in the exhibition, green appears as an ever-so-faint layer of patinated moss on a red-brick background. Dennis’s attention to such subtleties in her photos reflects her uncanny ability to capture images that luxuriate in color, contrast and composition—all of which induce a sensory response rather than a cognitive one.

Anya Dennis, "In Awe" (2010). Courtesy of the artist.

Anya Dennis, "In Awe" (2010). Courtesy of the artist.

Dennis’s photographs are indeed beautiful, but casual or sceptic observers may entertain internal monologues something along the lines of: “These are just beautiful vacation photos in nice frames … If I were in [insert tropical Southeast Asian country], I’m sure I could take pictures that are just as good as these … What’s so special about these images?” Such a self-assured statement, however, is hopeful at best, especially when taking into account Dennis’s years of honing her craft and her artistic process. A self-taught photographer, Dennis’s eyes were metaphorically opened during an extended stay in Accra, Ghana in 1997, while still a student at Clark Atlanta University. Her travels across the African continent since that initial encounter provided her with the “blank canvas” she needed to explore the relationship between culture and identity and deepen her commitment to photography as a means of “capturing the soul.”

It is her most recent body of work, however—created in Bali, Malaysia, Singapore and Japan—that truly testifies to Dennis’s having fine-tuned her craft to a level that many only dream of. Her ability to capture images that penetrate to the very essence of her subjects and enrapture viewers by appealing to their eyes—the windows to the soul—rather than their rational sensibilities sets her apart from even the most prolific “travel photographers:” a title altogether inadequate for someone of Dennis’s caliber. In her artistic practice, Dennis works along thematic—as opposed to specific—lines; instead of setting out to photograph monks, she looks instead for manifestations of spirituality. Or rather, she doesn’t go looking for anything at all, but has an eye towards sights, stories and situations that resonate with the emotions, concepts and sensations that she is constantly exploring. The result is a deeply personal body of work that can’t help but captivate whosoever comes in contact with them. This expert eye, in synchrony with the intimacy and immediacy indelibly inscribed in her images, confidently locates Dennis’s recent work alongside any cover of National Geographic.

Anya Dennis, photographer, and Adam Lofbomm, Laughing Tree Gallery curator

Anya Dennis, photographer, and Adam Lofbomm, Laughing Tree Gallery curator

The installation at Laughing Tree Gallery—images all of one uniform shape and orientation—does away with all distractions, embracing the simplicity of the gallery’s physical space that encourages the mindful engagement that Dennis’s work demands. The sequencing of different images in the show, itself executed in a highly conscious manner, only further serves to facilitate genuine interaction with the images individually and as a progressive and comprehensive “calming” unit.

“I don’t choose my images,” says Dennis, true to form and her unique way of seeing the world, “my images choose me.” A bold claim perhaps, and yet it speaks great truth about her work; like Pollock and indeed, the entire company of what may be aptly called “no-mind” artists in Western art history, Dennis’s photographs reflect a oneness of spirit with her subjects that speaks a universal language.

Song Yige at Gallery Hyundai

Sunday, January 30th, 2011

7th January- 6th February
Gangnam
Opening hours: Tuesday- Sunday 10am-6pm, closed Monday and national holidays
Admission: free
www.galleryhyundai.com

Song Yige at Gallery Hyundai, Gangnam

Chinese painter Song Yige is a hot topic around these Asian parts of late, and it’s no wonder. Her paintings typically deal with themes of childhood and the transition to adulthood with associated feelings of loneliness through simple and direct depictions of daily objects in desolate spaces. Most paintings are figure-less, but recall human presence in the absence of it. She paints in a realistic manner, and is a master of combining all of these elements with an astute sense of colour, to create honest and enrapturing works which seem to whisper softly to the viewer and beg them to pile their own personal meanings and memories onto the spaces that Yige has primed for them. These wonderful, large, low hung paintings in Gallery Hyundai are awaiting your meanings and memories.

Song Yige, 'Helplessness 1,' (2009). Courtesy of Gallery Hyundai

Song Yige, 'Helplessness 1,' (2009). Courtesy of Gallery Hyundai

Song Yige alludes to childhood by means of over sized objects which recall how big everything seems when you are young. A mourning for the loss of childhood is dealt with most overtly in ‘Helplessness 1,’ (2009), where a lone man wearing deer horns dejectedly gazes upon a crashed remote control helicopter. He is proportionately smaller than the helicopter and the maze of open doors to the left of the composition, and it’s uncertain whether he is outside or in. The ground is uneven and carries on as such through the open doors, emphasising the lonely, uncertain feelings which this painting provokes.

Song Yige, 'Untitled,' (2009). Courtesy of Gallery Hyundai

Song Yige, 'Untitled,' (2009). Courtesy of Gallery Hyundai

Whilst ‘Helplessness 1,’ deals with nostalgia for childhood, ‘Untitled,’ (2009) deals with the thrilling, yet terrifying transition into adulthood. The painting depicts a blue moonlit scene of a single track between wheat fields, leading to the vortex of the painting. The journey alluded to in the seemingly endless monotonous landscape, invites feelings of exhilaration in the sheer vastness and openness of the composition, but also of fear of embracing this freedom. The simple lines of the tracks leading to the centre of the painting and the horizon offered by the wheat are ever so slightly asymmetrical, playing with the viewer’s equilibrium and adding a further disconcerting edge to the work.

The open spaces of ‘Helplessness 1,’ and ‘Untitled,’ resonate with loneliness and desolation, feelings drawn upon in all works but extracted by varying means. In ‘You and Me,’ (2010), it’s a pair of worn pink chairs, evoking thoughts of the figures now absent. In ‘Bathroom,’ (2009), it’s working shower heads, pouring water onto nothing but the dirty tiles, which beg for human presence and seem to whisper the delicate splashing of water upon the floor. In ‘Abyss,’ (2008), it’s a terrible, black, gaping hole down which a ladder ladder much too short for the purpose, half heartedly and untrustingly reaches.

Song Yige, 'You and Me,' (2010). Courtesy of Gallery Hyundai

Song Yige, 'You and Me,' (2010). Courtesy of Gallery Hyundai

The paintings are swathed in varying melancholy green blue tints and executed with tender brushstrokes which relay objects in a realsitic manner. However, the strokes seem to tremble and threaten to break free of their confines in places, evident in strokes extending slightly further than they should and intruding into the space represented. Thick applications of paint become more than representational as physical embodiments of the heavy atmospheres provoked.

Perhaps I have made this all out to sound very grim, but it’s not. There is terrible loneliness and uncertainty, but overall, they are melancholy rather than desperate. The loaded spaces beg the viewer’s interpretation, making each painting personal according to your own experiences. They are humble, open, and obviously come from deep within Yige’s heart. They’re waiting for you too.

Get banging these bungeobbang!

Sunday, January 23rd, 2011

In winter, treats are a must to keep personal morale afloat. It’s cold. The mornings are dark and uninviting. The trees are bare. Everyone has gross runny noses. So these wee fish shaped cake-y treats or, ‘bungeobbang,’ (literally ‘carassius’ (a kind of fish) bread), come in very handy.

A favourable leftover from the Japanese occupation, Bungeobbang stalls start appearing on any self respecting Korean street corner in the start of November, and usually sell three or four for 1000 won. They are cake batter filled with ‘pat,’ (sweet red bean paste) or custard which are then cooked in fish shaped moulds. I find the custard filling questionable, but the red bean filling is tremendous and I love the way the cake batter crisps up at the edges. Just be warned that the red beans are like molten when freshly cooked. Who knows why they are in the shape of fish. But it’s more fun than a regular old circle and provides lighthearted internal dialogue facing the dilema of what to bite into first, head or tail?

Definitely worth pulling your hands out of you gloves for. Thank you bungeobbang, for providing short and sweet respites from the harsh winter days. It’s not all that bad!

Robert Delpire & Friends at Hangaram Art Museum, Seoul Arts Centre

Wednesday, January 12th, 2011

Seocho-dong
17th December- 27th February
Opening hours: Daily 11 am- 8 pm
Admission: Adults 10,000 won, children 8,000/ 5,000 won
www.sac.or.kr

Robert Delpire and Friends“Who is Robert Delpire?” is the first question that sprung to mind upon reading the title of one of the current exhibitions at Seoul Arts Centre, ‘Robert Delpire and Friends.’ As it turns out, Robert Delpire’s friends are far better known than he is; Delpire being a publisher and curator, and his ‘friends’ including an impressive selection of extremely influential 20th century photographers; Henri Cartier-Bresson, Robert Frank, William Klein, Robert Doisneau and Brassai to name but a few. He also happens to be married to Sarah Moon, another photography heroine. Even the most fleeting of visits to this exhibition would confirm that this unsung hero, who is a member of the prestigious photographer cooperative Magnum, and has played an essential role in introducing his photographer friends to the world over the last 60 years, is completely deserving of this retrospective.

Robert Frank, 'Les Americans,' published by Delpire, (1958)

Robert Frank, 'Les Americans,' published by Delpire, (1958)

Delpire’s colourful career began in 1951, when, at the age of 23, he began carving out his life-long profession as a publisher, abandoning his medical career in favour of publishing ‘Neuf,’ a luxury, glossy art magazine for doctors. ‘Neuf,’ was among the first publications to show works by some afore-mentioned friends of his, kick-starting their careers. Other achievements most importantly include publishing Robert Frank’s definitive photo document ‘The Americans,’ in 1958, known for its ‘street photography’ style and satirical look at the tired cliche of the American Dream, and for publishing ‘Photo Poche,’ the first paperback photography series on significant photographers of our times.

Delpire stands in front of a selection of his 'Photo Poche' series in various languages

Delpire stands in front of a selection of his 'Photo Poche' series in various languages

‘Robert Delpire & Friends,’ is a wonderful collection of largely black and white photographs and books which Delpire has published, including editions of ‘Neuf,’ ‘The Americans,’ and ‘Photo Poche,’ in multi-national, translated guises, re-iterating their significance as accessible documents of modern and contemporary photography greats. There are also a vast amount of hardback photo-documentary books on a huge selection of countries which act as ethnographic records, published in collaboration with, for example, Heni Cartier-Bresson and Werner Bischof. A small corner of this exhibition adds a deeper social dimension to Delpire’s work by showcasing some of the calendars he’s been putting together for Amnesty since 1988. A selection of his short films play on loop, including a marvelous compilation of footage shot by Sarah Moon for her pivotal design work for Cacharel. There’s also a section for visitors to sit and leaf through some of Delpire’s numerous publications whilst marvelling at the the subject of this exhibition.

Henri Cartier Bresson, 'Les Dances a Bali,' published by Delpire, 1954

Henri Cartier Bresson, 'Les Dances a Bali,' published by Delpire, (1954)

There are 52 artists represented by 185 photos, 150 photobooks and four short films in this exhibition which is a rather a lot of printed material. Unfortunately, it’s not backed up by much written information, even in Korean, meaning that visitors might leave feeling unsatisfied that they have benefited fully from the works on show. For Korean visitors, however, there are audio guides available.

Despite lack of written information, ‘Robert Delpire & Friends,’ is a most excellent tribute to a man who is well overdue the recognition he deserves for introducing some of the most influential photographers of the 20th century to the public. Through the selection of works shown, which he nurtured and heralded, the viewer gets a great sense of a man who is intelligent, passionate and dedicated to photography, not to mention very humble, having managed to side-step any mass critical acclaim… until now. Snippets of a humorous character shine through by way of inclusion of his own photographs, for example, ‘Le Pains de Picasso.’ Who is Robert Delpire? A more thorough and deserving exploration of this question awaits you at Seoul Arts Centre.

Robert Delpire, 'Le Pains de Picasso,' 1952

Robert Delpire, 'Le Pains de Picasso,' (1952)

Manga Realities: Exploring the Art of Japanese Comics Today at Artsonje Centre

Thursday, January 6th, 2011

Samcheon-dong
4th December- 13th February
Opening hours: Tuesday- Sunday 11am- 7pm, closed Monday, New Year’s Day and Lunar New Year
Admission: Adults 3,000 won, children 1,500 won
Exhibition tours: Tuesday- Sunday 2pm, 3pm, 4pm, 5pm
http://artsonje.org

Manga Realities: Exploring the Art of Japanese Comics. All images courtesy of Artsonje Centre.

Manga Realities: Exploring the Art of Japanese Comics. All images courtesy of Artsonje Centre.

In the current exhibition, Manga Realities: Exploring the Art of Japanese Comics Today at Artsonje Centre, the curators faced a daunting task of providing a representational snapshot in a gallery setting, of a medium usually enjoyed in a private realm. I cannot judge on how accurate a snapshot the curators have made; my manga appreciation is ashamedly that of a novice. However, I can appreciate that the nine artists selected represent different themes and styles in manga today. Themes used are in tune to our current globalised context, highlighting the medium’s ability to adapt. Once a form of mass entertainment for separate groups of Japanese men, women, boys and girls, the exhibition provides a platform for manga to show off how it has ripened to become regarded as ‘high art’ and a global commodity which transcends gender, age and cultural barriers. The difficult task of presenting manga in a gallery space has been handled superbly with 3D installations that are sympathetic to the individual manga represented. For both novices like myself, and avid fans alike, I’m certain this exhibition won’t disappoint.

Matsumoto Taiyo, 'Number Five,' (2000-2005)

Matsumoto Taiyo, 'Number Five,' (2000-2005)

Upon entry to the exhibition via a heavy velvet curtain, the visitor is welcomed by five giant panels featuring Matsumoto Taiyo’s ‘Number Five,’ (2000-2005); a pleasant welcoming into the world of manga that awaits inside. A selection of small scale drawings are on display too and feature gorgeous depictions of characters drawn from disparate sources such as different indigenous cultures and mythologies. There are old castles, dinosaurs, flying vehicles and smiling flowers to name but a few elements, brought together gloriously in a view of a harmonious, idealised future.

Impressive installations are carried on throughout the exhibition which deal with the problem of presenting manga in a gallery setting. The subsequent crossing over into our 3D dimension mimics manga’s often overt blurring of realities. Not only do they provide a platform for shared realities, but fans often blur realities themselves; take, for example the phenomenon of ‘cosplay,’ where people dress up as their favourite manga characters.

Anno Moyoco, 'Sugar Sugar Rune,' (2003-2007)

Anno Moyoco, 'Sugar Sugar Rune,' (2003-2007)

Kuramochi Fusako, 'Five Minutes From The Station,' (ongoing from 2007)

Kuramochi Fusako, 'Five Minutes From The Station,' (ongoing from 2007)

Wakaki Tamiki’s ‘The World God Only Knows,’ (2008), is presented in a classroom setting, mirroring the depicted environment of the manga. The gothic, winged characters in ‘Sugar Sugar Rune,’ (2003-2007), by Anno Moyoco are depicted amongst swirling pink, purple and black clouds of sparkles and stars which spill out from the 2D element of the page and are embodied in black flowing, flowered frames. Igarashi Daisuke’s ‘Children of the Sea,’ (ongoing from 2006) portrays beautifully executed, maritime adventures of young children. The drawings are in numerous cabinets, stood in a whirlpool-like circle and are protectively hugged by a grey curtain hanging from the ceiling, also featuring elements of the sea lifted from the manga. Asano Inio’s ‘Solanin,’ (2005-2006) contains highly detailed drawings hung around a room physically realised from within the manga. Freed from the restrictions of the page, Karamochi Fusako’s ‘Five Minutes From The Station,’ (ongoing from 2007), are individual frames displayed on a series of walk-in, box-like, white walls. There is no start or finish to the events depicted, and elements from the manga such as an arrow lodged into a wall, a hanging archery bow and a balloon come to life in 3D form as part if the installation. ‘Nodame Cantibille,’ (ongoing from 2001), by Ninomiya Tomoko portrays a story centred around a talented pianist presented in a Victorian-esque setting which includes a plush red carpet, mini chandeliers and an auto-playing piano which bangs out Beethoven now and again.

Harold Sakuishi, 'Beck,' (1999-2008)

Harold Sakuishi, 'Beck,' (1999-2008)

Harold Sakuishi, 'Beck,' (1999-2008)

Harold Sakuishi, 'Beck,' (1999-2008)

However, there were two exhibits which impressed me more-so than the others. The first is Harold Sakuishi’s ‘BECK, (1999-2008) which is a triptych of screens showing a rock show. Beads of sweat, trembling Japanese characters representing sounds, hands in the air, wide eyes, euphoric expressions and radiating backgrounds have been magically manipulated to create an extremely loud and energetic environment to the sound of silence. The visual techniques used seem traditional but the subject matter of a high school band surely brings the manga up to date. A fun addition to this installation is the reality blurring inclusion of numerous famous albums covers reworked to feature ‘The Mongolian Chop Squad,’ the band depicted in the manga.

Kyo Machiko, 'Sennen Gaho,' (ongoing from 2004)

Kyo Machiko, 'Sennen Gaho,' (ongoing from 2004)

The second is Kyo Machiko’s ‘Sennen Gaho,’ (ongoing from 2004). They are a selection of exquisitely hand drawn manga which reject traditional narrative. They depict singular moments on one page, usually within three or four frames. The line-work is simple and colour is provided in delicately tinged watercolours. What makes these works even more special is the fact that since 2004, Machiko has used the internet to self publish one such page a day on her own blog. This heralds a new age of web based media which means that manga can access wider audiences, displaying its ability to adapt to our current times.

This is another wonderfully and thoughtfully curated exhibition where manga is given a platform to display its powers which have evolved from a form of mass entertainment into a highly refined art form which can be expressed via endless possibilities of styles and themes. Manga has been given the chance to break free from its traditional two dimensional vehicles of presentation, and shows it keeping pace with our ever changing reality of globalisation and technological developments. Forget our reality and check out Manga Realities before 13th February!

Louise Bourgeois sculptures at Leeum Samsung Museum of Art

Tuesday, December 21st, 2010

Hannam-dong
Opening hours: Tuesday- Sunday 10:30am- 6pm
Admission: free (although entrance into the museum is 10,000 won)
http://leeum.samsungfoundation.org

Definitely worth the occasional haunt, are the Louise Bourgeois sculptures situated outside the Leeum Samsung Museum of Art in Hannam; ‘Eye Benches,’ (1996-7) and ‘Maman,’ (1997), just a stone’s throw away from Itaewon.

Louise Bourgeois, 'Maman' and 'Eye Benches.'

Louise Bourgeois, 'Maman' and 'Eye Benches.'

As I’m sure most people are aware, the Leeum Samsung Museum of Art itself is not to be missed. Housed in three stunning, separately designed buildings, there is a fantastic collection to behold. Museum 1 is breathtaking with its contrasting dark and light spaces, with beautifully spotlit celadons, porcelains, Buddhist paintings and statuettes and other forms of traditional Korean art. Museum 2 packs punches with an impressive array of 20th century art heavyweights. Think of one, and they’ll probably be represented. It’s in this gallery that I saw my first ‘real life’ Yves Klein in all of its sumptuous, ultra marine ‘International Klein blue’ patented glory. A beautiful moment! It really is hard to be unimpressed here. Gallery 3 is a kind of underground space given over to excellent temporary exhibitions. Hats off to Samsung with this one!

Leeum Samsung Museum 1 interior

Leeum Samsung Museum 1 interior

However, it’s the Louise Bourgeois sculptures out front that keep me crawling back for more. The feminist in me loves the fact that Bourgeois’ big, heavy, masculine sculptures sit out here braving the elements, whilst contemporaries of the male dominated modern art canon play it safe inside on canvas.

The four wonderful, Zimbabwean granite, Italian carved ‘Eye Benches’ with heavy eyelids are spread throughout the grounds. They are lusciously curved, turning the cold, hard, grey stone into an inviting surface. They seem to follow you wherever you walk.

The ‘Eye Benches’ surround ‘Maman,’ two bronze, stainless steel and marble structures taking the form of a towering mother and baby arachnids. They are casts taken from Bourgeois’ original ‘Maman’ series created in the late 90′s; a series which has become synonymous with her, endowing her with the nickname, ‘Spiderwoman.’ They are well known as works bound up in her childhood trauma of discovering that her English governess was also her father’s mistress. The spider represents her mother and conveys themes of nurture and protection in bold, macho materials.

Visits in different kinds of weather and times of night or day emphasise different facets of the mother’s character. The lighter and warmer, the more motherly the spider appears. The darker and colder, the more foreboding she appears. And look at these for some cool pictures for the ‘Eye Benches’ in the snow!

Louise Bourgeois is a true heroine of 20th century art, and it is a pleasure to be able to sit on one of her ‘Eye Benches,’ taking ‘Maman’ in and considering this.

Heineken? Fuck that shit! It’s David Lynch: Darkened Room at Gallery Six

Monday, December 20th, 2010

Comme De Garcons, Hannam-dong
5th November- 2nd January
Opening hours: Daily 11am- 8pm
Admission: free
Tel: 02-749-2525

David LynchDavid Lynch is well known as a multiple award winning, cooly quiffed figurehead of contemporary cinema. His films, such as Eraserhead, Twin Peaks and Blue Velvet, are renowned for their surrealistic, dark and downright disturbing (non) narratives. They variably deal with recurring themes of industry, deformity, the nonsensical and subconscious, death and the seedy underbelly of white picket fence suburbia. What’s lesser known is that he’s also a painter, sculptor and musician and that his initial forays into film making derived from a desire to see his paintings move. This unmissable exhibition, Darkened Room, at Gallery Six, curated by founder of Comme de Garcons and artist in her own right, Rei Kawakubo, gives platform to Lynch’s recent paintings and film shorts as well as early film shorts which display the organic flow of cryptic, psychological investigations and ideas which occur between the mediums of screen and canvas for him.

The seven paintings on display, (all 2009), are hung round an imposing floor to ceiling white column which decreases the size of the already narrow space. It demands the viewer confront the paintings in a claustrophobic setting, just as his cinematic works often force the viewer to witness distressing scenes in close proximity. Rei Kawakubo has omitted title cards from the exhibition, forcing the viewer straight into a personal narrative with the images of unsettling figures which loom out of dark backgrounds. They are abstract figures formed crudely in thick, cracked and visceral looking paint. The fact that they are deformed, lonesome figures, relate back to some of the well known characters in his films such as James Merrick, the Elephant Man, or the ‘baby’ in Eraserhead. Some figures are throwing up, an action that is repeated in some of the film shorts and can be read as an indication of internal darkness or an attempt to ex purge it. These figures appear to be trapped in a personal hell and cannot be determined as wholly bad because they cannot fully control of their dark desires, just as one cannot fully control bodily functions such as being sick.

Still from 'Darkened Room,' (2002)

Still from 'Darkened Room,' (2002)

The first of two sets of film shorts being screened during this show, is ‘Dynamic:01: The Best of DavidLynch.com.’ It comprises of seven recent short films, premiered on his website from 2002 and amalgamated on DVD format in 2009. The viewer is witness first to a lady babbling about bananas, then to a harrowing threat from one woman to another, in typical close proximity and seemingly unrelated narratives, in the exhibition’s namesake, ‘The Darkened Room,’ (2002). ‘The Boat,’ (2007) sees Lynch take a boat ride betwixt alternating dark and light realities, whilst the brooding ‘Industrial Soundscape,’ (2007) and ‘Intervalometer Experiments,’ (2007) relay Lynch’s interests in industry with a specific inspiration in sound, and technology, respectively. ‘Bug Crawls,’ (2007), is the only animation of these shorts, portraying a bug crawling over, then falling from a lone house with mechanical innards, in a barren dystopian landscape, set to another industrial soundscape. ‘Lamp’ (2007) takes a different direction and sees Lynch set to work in his studio, making a giant yellow lamp. The tedious nature of this short, I believe, is intended to test the viewer in a display of Lynchinian humour.

‘Out Yonder- Neighbour Boy,’ (2007), is a straight narrative which sees Lynch and his son cast as a pair of hillbilly types with a strange way of talking, including overuse of the phrase “be’s bein’.” They encounter a giant ‘neighbour boy’ in search of milk, whose cartoon-like, monstrous silhouette shadows the pair, as if one of the twisted figures from the paintings behind the makeshift cinema has come to life. It is bizarre, very funny, and Lynch’s standout piece from this set of film shorts.

'Six Men Getting Sick,' (1966)

'Six Men Getting Sick,' (1966)

Whilst familiar Lynchinian themes of alternate, dystopian realities and industry with dark, often humorous undertones can be detected in the first set of film shorts, it’s the second set that offer the viewer a real insight into Lynch’s natural transgression from painting to film. They are a chronological set of his first five film shorts, three of which contain animation and are literally moving paintings. In the animation, ‘Six Men Getting Sick,’ (1966), viewers are subject to a looped sequence of six crudely formed figures growing and then throwing up, set to the sound of a piercing siren. They closely resemble the painted spewing figures and the repeated sequence gives a similar sense of being trapped in a personal hell.

Still from 'The Alphabet,' (1968)

Still from 'The Alphabet,' (1968)

‘The Alphabet,’ (1968) is a mix of animation and live action with themes of childhood innocence and dark torment. A child repeats the alphabet as if possessed and not in control of her actions, also a feeling repeated in the paintings.

‘The Grandmother,’ (1970), is similarly dark. Figures grow out of messy, organic matter. A boy is subject to abusive parents, abuse being a common theme throughout Lynch’s feature length films, so ‘grows’ a Grandmother, who offers respite from the abuse until she dies. It has a ‘scratchy’, industrial aesthetic, found in ‘Six Men…’ and ‘The Alphabet,’ but fully realised in ‘Eraserhead.’

Still from, 'The Grandmother,' (1970)

Still from, 'The Grandmother,' (1970)

A twisted kind of respite is given from the intense nature of the first three shorts, and the first hint of Lynch’s morbid humour shines through in ‘The Amputee,’ (1974). A female amputee patient attempts to write a letter whilst Lynch, in drag as a broad shouldered, female nurse tends her stumps. Lynch diligently sets to work, loudly snipping pieces of dead flesh from the wounds, as the camera remains trained on the scene. Again, viewers find themselves faced close up with a situation which is hand to mouth, eyes squeezed shut, nervous laughter inducing.

Still from, 'The Amputee,' (1974)

Still from, 'The Amputee,' (1974)

‘Lumiere,’ (1996), is a 57 second experiment on an original Lumiere camera, with a lovely ‘old’, jerky, grainy look to the series of harrowing images and an equally creepy soundtrack.

The exhibition sits superbly in the Comme de Garcons building, which is a confusing construction of long, sloping tunnels between different levels. A walk along tunnels give a surreal view of single garments of clothing at the end of them, for example, a magnificent pair of sparkling, silver, leopard print brogues!

‘Darkened Room’ is an absolute gem, even if you leave shuddering and giggling nervously at the same time. I think Lynch would most definitely take that as a compliment. Kawakubo has expertly curated the exhibition so that the viewer is physically involved in the feeling of unease and claustrophobia depicted in the paintings and shorts. It’s as if an invisible force grabs you by the back of the neck and thrusts you into the dark but thrilling world of demonic and tormented spewing souls created by Lynch to an equally unsettling soundtrack. It’s sure to challenge and delight and is thankfully peppered with some humour to take off the edge. I be’s a bein’ recommendin’ this exhibition to y’all!

Gwangjang Market: Who put the ‘Gwang’ in the Gwang-a-jang-a-ding-dong?

Tuesday, October 12th, 2010

Jongno-4-ga
Opening hours: Monday- Saturday 7am- 7pm

Gwangjang Market exterior

Gwangjang Market exterior

This little gem sits high on my list of ‘Things to do when in Seoul.’ Located a stone’s throw away from the commanding pillars of South Korean fashion heaven, Migliore and Doota at Dongdaemun, try out Gwangjang Market for a more rough and ready experience. While this two story, grubby market is no looker from the outside, step inside and the magic will soon become apparent. Shuffle on past the obligatory heinous ajuma polyester apparel, down the narrow, dank and cluttered alleys, and get lost in the fascinating network of arteries which pulsate through Gwangjang. There’s textiles and all kinds of sewing accoutrements, bedding, traditional tidbits, Hanboks, the usual pickled vegetables and side dishes, wee turtles (which must be for human consumption) and very odd arrangements of Korean sweets made to look like things such as underwater creatures. Just watch out for the speeding scooters laden with mounds of fabric which dart in and out of the alleys like little silver fish.

Strange Korean candies at Gwangjang Market

Strange Korean candies (really! that's not an octopus or prawns!) and mushrooms for sale at Gwangjang Market

These ‘arteries’ all lead to the throbbing heart of the market where rows upon rows of stalls offer all kinds of Korean street food heroes. The more adventurous may want to sample pig’s trotters, snout, intestines or ‘sundae’- Korean blood sausage. However, you’d be mad not to try the bindaettuk, Gwangjang’s signature dish. This thick mung bean pancake has been laced with garlic and bean sprouts, and is served with soy sauce. Do as everyone else, and wash down with magkeolli, rice wine. May I also recommend the vegetarian friendly barley bi bim bo li, which is a regular bi bim bap where the rice has been replaced with barley. It’s amazing! If you’re lucky, this experience might be set to the sultry soundtrack of Baek Yeon-hwa, a near 90 year old man decked out in a suit covered in pearl buttons who often appears playing his sax.

Ajuma selling her wares at Gwangjang Market

Ajuma selling her wares at Gwangjang Market

The second floor is a real treasure trove. Home to Korea’s largest collection of used clothing, there are hundreds of stalls cobbled together with racks bursting with any kind of clothing, belts, shoes and bags your heart may desire. There are lots of cool vintage things for purchase which are apparently shipped over from Japan. I love the variety of clothing here and not everything is in Korean proportioned sizes (miniscule). Things are pretty cheap, say 15,000 for a jumper or dress. And if anything is a little on the large side, or if that dress could really do with a shorter hemline, take it to one of the tailors off at the side who’ll sort you out in a matter of minutes.

Used clothing at Gwangjang Market

Used clothing at Gwangjang Market

There’s much fun to be had at Gwangjang market. I love driving some hard bargains in the clothing section upstairs then moseying on down to fill up on some street food diamonds. The food stalls are most fun around 5pm when the office workers descend for their daily fix. Gwangjang is loud, cramped, chaotic and buzzing- a whirlwind of colours, sights and smells. So just a little different from the sanitised offerings at all the regular department stores. Get stuck in!

Directions: Hop off the subway at Jongno-5-ga subway exit 8.