As
Zygmunt Bauman observes and explains in an extrasensory manner, the
contemporary society is liquid in its characteristics. The rigid social
standards and ideologies have been collapsed as if they were melted down, and
the absolute standard has lost its authority. The foundation and boundary
disappear as they become liquid, and diverse fields and values cross and
influence each other. Everything truly has become liberated.
On
the other hand, the flexible autonomy of liquidity has increased the
instability of the society. The power to resist has also become liquid, causing
a number of individuals to bear such an unstable state. However, many
contemporary artists have been staying in a liquid state and pursuing unrefined
circumstances. They are resisting the instability of the era of liquidity and
the new authorities of this time in different ways.
Installation
view of “FROM HEAD TO TOE” ©P21In
YOO Seungho’s work, the liquidity of the contemporary society is strongly
present. Although the artist deals with firm and concrete forms such as letters
and images, two contrasting elements cross and change into each other while the
composition of the canvas is as liquid as fluid. The word ‘뇌출혈’(cerebral
hemorrhage) becomes ‘natural,’
and ‘natural’ becomes a figure
of a mountain to form a sublime landscape where a part of the canvas becomes a
bird before anyone recognizes and flies away towards the other end of the
canvas.
Most
of the images flow down toward the bottom of the canvas, becoming a surrounding
landscape where the common people stand. The movement also operates in the
opposite direction. Most of the previous criticism on YOO’s work focused on the
relationship between letters and images in his work. However, there are many
more contrasting relations lurking in his work. There are an array of deficient
substances, such as different languages, tradition and modernity, poem and
painting, meaning and figure, abstraction and figurativeness, surface and
depth, and expression and confession, which are elements that construct YOO
Seungho’s canvas. Although these elements are often read as a wordplay, playful
scribbles, or a way of presenting humor, one can observe how painted letters or
images change and are transformed into the other, which leads to a realization
that such a process seems natural as if it was done as an inevitable phenomenon
than an unnatural attempt intended by the artist.
Such
a process seems to be contained within different elements as if a larva becomes
a moth which then lays eggs. Different elements seem to be moving toward each
other while bearing the fundamental deficiency inside them as in the
relationship between oneself and the others, lovers, or ultimately life and
death. In this sense, the artist seems to satisfy the demand and deficiency of
letters and images that struggle to become the other on the canvas while he
blankly gazes them and uses his brush at a proper timing.
Installation
view of “FROM HEAD TO TOE” ©P21In
the current exhibition From Head to Toe, most of the works are paintings have
letters in a cursive style. The transition from the style of pen writing to
that of brush writing deserves a notable attention. It is true that the artist
used the same style in his previous solo exhibition Shaking Your Hair Loose
(Perigee Gallery, 2015). His 2005 work I go also showed a glimpse of the style.
However, a series of works that employ brush writing started in a work titled
Ddeok♨ (2015), a work exhibited in The Tradition is the Future (Ilju &
Seonhwa Gallery (now Sehwa Museum of Art), 2016). The work appropriates the
writing style called Haengcho(行草) from HAN Seok Bong, a
calligrapher from the mid-Joseon period. After the exhibition, YOO started
employing brush writing as a major component of his work. In fact, this change
seems to be a natural progression of his artistic style since most of his
previous works share similarities with the style of cursive writing.
Moreover,
YOO produced many works that copied paintings by Guo Xi (郭熙) or Fan
Kuan (范寬) from the Northern Song Dynasty period. The
cursive writing style also appeared in the same period of these artists. With
an intention to better express the energy embedded in letters, the artist made
a primary sketch where the overall shape and composition were modified from the
original writing by enlarging and moving certain strokes. He then painted the
sketch on a large rice paper. The dance of thin lines was static yet vigorous
to resemble a movement made by a dancer, leading to an impression that the
energy contained in the cursive writing of HAN Seok Bong was completed in full
by YOO Seungho. The artist confessed that he himself felt strangely excited and
captivated while he hung Ddeok♨ for about a month on a
wall in a good light after completing the work. After listening to the story,
what the artist confessed does not seem to be that strange. Rather, it is
possible to see that such a strange feeling became a motive to start the series
of works that employ brush writing.
Installation
view of “FROM HEAD TO TOE” ©P21In
fact, letters written in the style of cursive writing are closer to images than
letters. As the name of the style (草書, which literally means
grass and letter) came from its similarity with the shape of grass, it is a
matter of course. Letters written in the cursive style are both liberated and
dynamic. As well known, one of the basic principles of Chinese character is
hieroglyphic composition. For example, ’象’ (elephant)
takes the shape of the animal. ‘草’ (grass)as a radical
‘艹’
that indicates grass or plant when it is combined with other characters. Thus,
since Chinese characters are an abstraction of figurative shapes, there is no
difficulty in conveying any meaning if a letter is close to the image of its
original reference, regardless of how cursive the letter is written. What
should stay intact is the shape of the letter itself, though.
Whether
it was Huizong (徽宗) of the Northern Song Dynasty, Chusa (秋史)
and Seok Bong (石峯) of Joseon period, those that favored
the cursive writing style understood that they could come close to the essence
of writing ironically by scribbling the letters down. One can also say that
they were artists that were confident enough to do so. And YOO Seungho also
gives that sense of confidence. The confidence has been shown in what he wrote
on his canvases, distorted figures in his works, daring depictions of erotic jokes
that one might observe in obscene pictures (春畵, a
particular term for erotic paintings produced during Joseon period), and rather
indifferent titles he made for static landscape paintings, which reminded of
his way of speaking. The current series with the cursive writing style shows
more of that confidence. In the works in the series lie energies that are
tranquil yet bold and feeble yet massive that one can feel from the back of a
farmer who finished his job during the day and riding an oxcart or a smell of
earth from the traces of moving on a ridge between rice paddies. Such energies
are beautifully conveyed on the canvas as if it was done by a person full of
confidence in a relaxed manner.
A
poet and a scholar of Korean literature CHO Ji Hun once mentioned that the
Korean aesthetic consciousness can be found in the notion of ‘멋’ (Meot),
which means sapidity, taste, or a general appreciation of beautiful things and
actions. CHO finds Meot in lines that are curved rhythmically, distorted
shapes, and optimism that consistently sustains humor. Further, CHO tells that
the authentic meaning of the term is seen in the ‘beauty
of transcending formality’ (超格美),
which is “a formality that enters and escapes from a
formality.” In this sense, the cursive writing is the
most appropriate form to express the beauty of transcending formality since it
is to mimic shapes to create letters that transcend the given frame and even
become figures that contain movement.
Installation
view of “FROM HEAD TO TOE” ©P21“Lies behind the mask, the path.” The line is from HWANG Ji Woo’s
poem “503.” I wrote it down while I was listening to a statement made by an
aesthetician where he quoted the poem. I was reminded of the line when I was
observing YOO Seungho’s fool (2017). What catches one’s eyes in this long
neon-colored canvas that stretches more than three meters is a letter ‘屮’
(grass). It is the same letter that Chusa wrote for a signboard hung at the
entrance of Dasan Chodang (茶山草堂, a residence building used by JEONG Yakyong (1762-1836) during his
exile (1800-1818)).
On
the signboard, the letter for grass is written straightly to remind of a
trident while the letter signifying a mountain is tilted like a piece of rice
cake while it is supposed to be grandiose. This can be an allusion of the ruler
and the exile, but what is also evident is that the letters are a clear
expression of the people and their potential power. In addition to grass, YOO
Seungho’s canvas is composed elegant lines that are both thin and thick,
conveying the strength and weakness of force. Strokes of thin lines follow the
elegant lines, forging an imagery of grass that provides a space to the path
that has been followed by a brush. Lines that deviate from the standard shape
of letters become paths by the artist’s brush strokes. To find zen hidden in
emptiness shall be more difficult than finding it from visible forms.
When
I asked the artist about why he started using brushes instead of pens, he gave
this response. “Now is the time to use brush writing.” If a path is laid in
front of oneself, one should follow the path. The path might be of following
the tradition or being adapted to the society. However, there is no fixed path
from the start. If a painter has faith in himself and follows his way, a path
shall be paved. YOO Seungho overcame an immense pressure he felt as an artist
and is now paving his path toward becoming a seeker of truth. And this might be
a reason I strongly sensed liquidity as I observed works in the exhibition
including fool. In YOO Seungho’s work, the new authority born in the age of
liquidity and the simple and pure movement of the common people that resist
that authority turn the canvas into a state of liquidity.
