From Survey to Observation, From Interest to Hospitality
By Lim Ji-yeon (ArtNoid178 Director)
"What is this conflicting sense of distance?" This was the first question that came to mind when I saw Kim Hyung-joo's works from her 2019 solo exhibition, The Weight of Nameless Space - Light Landscape, alongside the works from her current exhibition, Uninvited Guest. This is because I felt a significant difference between the former's gaze, which surveys mountains from afar, and the latter's gaze, which observes weeds up close. My desire to find meaning in this change grew stronger given that the artist's focus is on natural objects: mountains and weeds. As is well known, examining the relationship between nature and humans has been a long-standing subject of human reflection, and the pandemic situation caused by the virus demands not just reflection but immediate action. "From survey to observation, from mountains to weeds." It would not be an overstatement to discover an artist's movement responding to the changing times in Kim Hyung-joo's current exhibition. The actions that bring about change begin in the arena of life, within each person's secluded room.
Although I said "from survey to observation," in reality, these two terms also denote the aesthetic attitude and scientific attitude of Western modernity, respectively. The ideal of Western modernity lay in thoroughly separating nature and humans and constructing the two worlds based on distinct, pure, and autonomous principles. Here, the subject of construction is human reason. Reason, pursuing clear and distinct truth, establishes boundaries between domains and thoroughly monitors them to prevent mutual infringement. What's amusing is that the one who allowed reason to act this way (borrowing the stature of God) was humanity itself. By virtue of possessing reason, humans define nature as they please, and even define themselves as mere points in a coordinate system according to the principles of that reason. In a privileged way of thinking centered on humanity and reason, humans create their own world. To quell the wild nature within humans, i.e., desire, and to survey nature with a detached and disinterested attitude; to meticulously observe nature with the power of reason and discover its objective laws. Considering the history of humanity, which, by discovering the laws of nature, ultimately used nature as a useful tool, a means to generate profit (interest), the aesthetic attitude emphasizing disinterestedness is an excellent packaging technique superimposed on the scientific gaze of Western modernity. To put it extremely, it's like a schizophrenic and contradictory human who, while sucking the life out of nature, exclaims, "Behold this beautiful nature!"
Let's examine Kim Hyung-joo's gaze movement. First, her "surveying" movement unfolds before a "nameless" mountain. Recalling the primordial state when language emerged, the name of an object is bestowed randomly, truly in pure freedom. There is no necessary reason or basis for an object to have that specific name, and this baseless freedom demonstrates the fundamental state of the object's existence. This generative event of language is then somewhat faded by being retrospectively explained by rational systems like conventions or grammar. Furthermore, the more the essence of language is abstracted within general grammar, the more excellently it assimilates into another abstract movement of capital and profit, into the game of numbers. Kim Hyung-joo's surveying gaze, lingering on the nameless points of the mountain, seems to have an orientation to escape the "lightness" of the abstract movement caused by language and capital, and to imbue our consciousness with the mountain's inherent weight, that is, the gravity felt from the fact that "the mountain exists." Nature, sold off according to the size of capital and given the name of utility, remains an empty, "light landscape," but the nameless mountain carries the "weight of existence itself" prior to utility. Therefore, her surveying movement differs from the movement caused by the disinterested aesthetic attitude of Western modernity. In her gaze, one can read an infinite interest "towards" (I consciously used "towards" instead of "about") existence itself, moving beyond the vacuum-like abstraction.
Kim Hyung-joo's "surveying" gaze shifts to an "observing" gaze, thereby acquiring corporeality. This epistemological awakening to "namelessness" and the shift of interest towards existence itself entail a change in the artist's own attitude towards "uninvited" beings. When the gaze embodies itself, it transforms into a subject of action that does something, rather than merely seeing. At this point, the paradox of humanity in general serves as the foundation for the artist's self-reflection. How is one to explain her own actions of regularly mowing the lawn and pulling weeds in her studio yard, even while feeling aversion to capital's violence against nature? Explanation is a process of self-justification, which ensures minimal self-comfort in the face of ethical issues. Simply put, it's about putting one's mind at ease, and in reality, most rational explanations and logics aim for this selfish comfort and pleasantness. In this process, the artist does not make grand promises that everything can be solved, nor does she demand a human-centric understanding. No matter how much one tries to remove weeds, they are not eradicated. To the owner of the yard, weeds are uninvited guests that appear constantly. Even the lawn seems to dislike weeds. But who makes all these judgments of like and dislike? In this yard, who is truly the owner and who is the guest? The artist lays down the centralized perspective of the judging subject that divides the two and welcomes the weeds. Welcoming is not just with the eyes but occurs through hands and feet, smell and touch and sound, sweat and skin, breath and movement. Welcoming someone is done with the entirety of these senses, with the whole body. Kim Hyung-joo's observing gaze does not seek to discover the cold, rigid forms of reason that organize nature into orders or laws. Her gaze is imbued with moisture. Water makes grass and trees grow, and black ink holds within it the potential for green growth.
The gaze of "survey and observation" found in Kim Hyung-joo's past and present exhibitions can be rephrased as the active and subjective activities of "interest and hospitality." The shift from seeing existence to welcoming existence shows the artist's life wisdom, learned through the body, as well as the expansion of her perception. In the artist's warm interest towards nameless beings and in open encounters that transcend the boundaries of "you and I," an aesthetic attitude centered on the value of life is discovered. The practices demanded of us in the face of ecological crises, such as the viral pandemic, are no different from this.
● (Postscript) I genuinely look forward to what movement the artist's gaze will bring forth in her next exhibition. To express it intuitively, the artist's gaze, which used to fly in the sky, has now landed on the ground. The eye rolling on the ground will sometimes close tightly and sometimes open wide. It will sometimes hit grass and sometimes fall into a pit. It will become dusty from rolling and sometimes be washed clean by a sudden downpour. It might be struck by lightning or scorched black by the hot sun. If one willingly plunges into the movement of life, the gaze will become one with the body, without needing to be called a separate gaze. (End)