계정에서 본 작품의 느낌과 게시글은 자신을 드러내기를 좋아하지않을 것 같았는데 오픈스튜디오를 한다고 하여서 방문했던 작업실. 생각만큼 내성적이셨지만 여러 질문을 하면서 두시간정도 대화할 수 있었다.

한지를 태우고 표백하여 쌓고 타 재료와 섞어 물성을 해체하고 재구성한 작품들. 전시글에서는 통제성과 우연성, 인간사 세 가지 단어가 반복되어 등장한다. 대화에서 인상깊은 부분은 캐나다에서 이주했고 건축학을 전공한 배경인데, 정체성에 대한 고민과 작가활동 전반을 이해할 수 있는 바탕이 되었다.

특히 한지라는 소재에 대한 생각과 전통에 대한 탐구성은 이런 배경의 영향을 받았다. 다양한 지역의 한지를 사용하면서 만나온 제작자 이야기도 흥미롭게 풀어주셨다. 한지의 역사성, 가격, 열악한 환경, 계승 등 안타까워하는 모습에서 그와 그들이 약간은 겹쳐보이기도 했다. (캔버스나 한지나, 몰입된 작업에는 순수성이 담겨져있고 무조건적인 수행과도 비슷하다. 돈을 떠나서 그런 가닥이 모여 삶이 된 사람들이 존재한다.)

그는 정말로 작업을 하고자 하는 작가였다. 한국에서의 작가로 살아가야한다는 것은 무엇인지 깊은 고민이 느껴졌다. 외국기반으로 살다 온 비전공자가 한국에서 작가로 활동하는 것. 작품과 수입, 갤러리와의 관계, 그럼에도 작업할때 가장 즐겁다는 말! 대화를 할수록 이상을 향해 치열하게 고민하면서도 순수하게 작업에 집중하는 모습이 상상되어 나는 어쩐지 즐거웠다. 서로 닮은 작품과 작가를 발견해서 즐거웠다.

캔버스 작업들부터 기둥-벽-설치물 마지막 사진의 파란 끈-한지를 만들 때 쓴다 의 변주된 소재와 내러티브도 세심하게 설명해주셨다. 콘크리트에도 한지를 싸서 캔버스를 받힌 부분도 섬세했다. 이 시기에 사람의 기질+성격과 직업에 대해 한창 생각했었는데, 적어도 오늘 본 그는 작업에 어울린다고 느꼈다. 주제가 넘을 수도 있겠지만..앞으로도 작업이 쭉 즐거웠으면, 그래서 꼭 오래 하시면서 즐겁게 사셨으면 좋겠다고, 그냥 그런 마음을 전달했다.

볕이 잘드는 거실에 걸려있는 그림을 상상하며(ㅎㅎ) 수줍지만 솔직했던 이야기를 해주셔서 즐거웠던 하루였다. 성수까지 가길 잘했어.

손유진

Based on my impressions from the artist’s account posts, I felt he wouldn’t like to reveal much about himself, but I decided to schedule a visit upon hearing he was holding an open studio. Although he was as introverted as I had expected, I was able to converse with him for about two hours, asking a variety of questions.  

His work involves creating by burning, bleaching, layering, and integrating Hanji with other materials to repeatedly deconstruct and reconstruct its physical properties. In an exhibition text, three specific ideas—control, chance, and human affairs, appear repeatedly. What struck me in our conversation was his background of having immigrated from Canada and majored in architecture, which provided a foundation for understanding the artist’s concerns about identity and overall artistic practice.

In particular, I felt my perspective towards the material of Hanji, and also the exploration of tradition being shifted. There were fascinating stories about the artisans he met while acquiring Hanji from various regions. I sensed a subtle overlap between the artist and the artisans he was describing—their struggle with the changing times, in regards to historical significance and modern-day relevancy, pricing, difficult working conditions, and their legacy as a whole (Whether canvas or Hanji, there is a purity in the work immersed that is akin to unconditional asceticism. Regardless of money, there are people whose lives have coalesced through such threads). 

He was truly an artist who wanted to create. I could sense the heartfelt contemplation he held regarding what it means to live as an artist in Korea, as a non-art major, and foreigner in his motherland. He discussed his work, his income, and his relationship with galleries, and all the frustrations involved. Yet still he said he feels the most joy when creating art! As we talked, I could picture him striving intensely towards his ideals, focused on his work, and somehow I felt a sense of delight. A delight in discovering an artist and his work, resembling each other. 

He explained the variations in materials and narratives of his canvas works, ranging from pillar-forms to walls to installations the blue strings in the last photo are used in the Hanji-making process. The detail of Hanji-wrapped concrete blocks as supporting structures for canvases was exquisite. At that time, I was thinking a lot about how a person's temperament, personality, and profession relate to each other, and at least for the person I saw today, I felt suited his work. It might have been a bit off topic, but I simply conveyed my hope that he would continue to find joy in his work, and that he would live a happy life while making art, for a long time to come.

I imagine one of his works hanging in my sunlit living room (haha). It was a delightful day thanks to his reserved but honest conversation, and I'm glad I went all the way to Seongsu.

Son Yujin