1945–2009 Online Platform for Korean Modern and Contemporary Art

Shin Chunghoon

1990-1999: Korean Contemporary Art in Globalization

Entering the 1990s, Korean society was marked by a palpable sense of anticipation. With the restoration of procedural democracy, including direct presidential elections, and an economic boom, Korea seemed on the verge of achieving developed country status. The momentum toward openness and global integration had already gained traction following the 1988 Seoul Olympics. Against the backdrop of overlapping expectations for democratization, development, and globalization, Korean art underwent significant transformations. The “Cold War” tension between Modernism and Minjung art began to ease, giving way to a more sensuous artistic expression that embraced "new generation" and "technology" as its guiding principles. The dissolution of boundaries and hierarchies across genres and media paved the way for the emergence of video, performance, and installation art. Simultaneously, Korean contemporary art gained international recognition as it entered the global circuit of biennials. While these changes led many to perceive the Korean art scene of the 1990s as a radical departure from the past or an achievement of "contemporaneity," the decade also laid bare the inadequacies of Korean modernization, evidenced by events such as the collapse of the Seongsudaegyo Bridge and the Sampoong Department Store, as well as the IMF-led neoliberal restructuring following the financial crisis of 1997. Amidst the disillusionment stemming from initial expectations, "postmodern" Korean art sought to reclaim the reflexivity of modernism through a renewed interest in "conceptual art." Additionally, there was an effort to restore the critical nature of Minjung art through considerations about the public role of art. Furthermore, the art world grappled with weighing the risks and seeking responses to the increased international visibility of Korean art. Easing the “Cold War” divide in Korean art Against the backdrop of a swiftly transforming political landscape, the 1990s witnessed a notable departure from the Cold War structure that had long defined Korean art through the dichotomy of Modernism and Minjung art. The emergence of Minjung art in the 1980s had been a response to the escalating aspirations for democratization, challenging the dominance of Korean modernist art perceived as overly reliant on foreign influences and seemingly disconnected from societal realities. However, as formal democratization took root and income levels rose in the 1990s, the urgency of the Minjung movement waned. Previously accepted representations and reductive approaches to reality, once tolerated, became less viable, making the continuation of Minjung art increasingly challenging. The exhibition of “15 Years of Korean Minjoong Arts: 1980-1994" (1994) symbolized both institutional approval and the historical conclusion of Minjung art. In a way, Korean art had oscillated between the axes of modernism and realism, navigating the possibilities and limitations of each. The new generation of artists found themselves in a different landscape. They were not constrained to choose between delving into the aesthetic depth of their medium and aligning with revolutionary ideals. Instead, in contrast to the prior structure, they either resisted both, sought a middle ground, or ventured to create an entirely new sphere external to it. Popular Culture and Technology In the early 1990s, the art world shifted its primary focus to popular culture and technology. While interest in these domains had already surfaced in the late 1960s with the incorporation of Pop art, Op art, Kinetic art, Happenings, and Environmental art into Korean art, the reception was tempered by suspicions of mere imitation of international trends, given the nascent stages of urbanization and industrialization at the time. However, in the 1990s, with the onset of a new societal era marked by terms such as "mass consumer society," "post-Fordism," and "information society," the interest became more compelling as it was perceived as self-generated. For subsequent generations of artists and critics, popular culture and technology ceased to be viewed merely as tools of deception and exploitation. Even within the Minjung art circle, they were seen as avenues for the rejuvenation of Minjung art, which was experiencing a crisis. By embracing the visual and technological elements of mass media, artists aimed to renew "communication" and "criticism" surrounding the new reality, employing mediums such as video, animation, film, and publishing. However, the enthusiasm for popular culture and technology found a more vibrant expression beyond the realm of Minjung art. Various endeavors, labeled as "new generation," "mixed media," and "postmodern," transcended the confines of genre and media. They seamlessly navigated between photography, video, installation, and performance, seemingly liberated from historical obligations. Instead of shouldering the weight of both modernism and Minjung art, these initiatives, almost in a mocking tone, encouraged a sensory indulgence, an embrace of the everyday, artistic professionalism, and a relaxed attitude toward art. Some artists opted for unconventional exhibition venues like downtown clubs or rock cafes, diverging from the traditional museum or gallery settings. They even ventured into the realms of film art or the design industry. For those who came of age during the industrialization period of the 1960s and 1970s, internalizing the impact of popular and material culture, the new cultural and technological landscape resulting from the acceleration of capitalism became a playground of sorts. The buoyant atmosphere of the early to mid-1990s further bolstered the legitimacy of their spirited and carefree approach to art. Globalization of Korean Art—Challenges and Prospects The decline of Modernism and Minjung art in the 1990s was closely linked to an expanding openness and integration with the global artistic landscape. Notably, internal critique of Minjung art surfaced with overseas exhibitions like "Minjung Art: A New Cultural Movement from Korea" (1988) and "Across the Pacific: Contemporary Korean and Korean-American Art" (1993), and the significance of a "new generation" of artists gained early affirmation from foreign curators. Thus, globalization profoundly influenced the unfolding terrain of domestic "post" art. The emergence of “conceptual” artworks by artists returning to Korea in the 1990s after international experiences showcased an "austere" visual approach, intellectual depth, reflexive attitudes toward art, and subtle rhetoric. These “conceptual” works constituted another axis of the art of the 1990s, serving as a counterbalance to the distinctive artistic atmosphere often termed “sensualism.” Foremost among the events solidifying globalization's impact was the inclusion of Korean art in the global biennial circuit. In 1995, the establishment of the Gwangju Biennale and the installation of the Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale marked significant milestones. Subsequent overseas exhibitions and awards for Korean artists further heightened international visibility, sparking celebratory discussions on contemporaneity and the surpassing of long-standing developmental expectations. However, the escalating global attention came with a caveat: the demand for exoticism tended to confine Korean art within the categories of "tradition" or the "periphery," potentially alienating local audiences. The debate on how to navigate these dynamics took precedence over discussions between modernism and Minjung art, taking center stage in critical discourse within art magazines. The negotiation of the rules of this international art world’s "game" became a central concern, shaping the trajectory of Korean art at the turns of the new millennium. The Restructuring of the Art World: Alternative Spaces and Public Art The Korean financial crisis of 1997 marked a turning point, abruptly halting the promising beginning of the 1990s. The crisis reverberated through the Korean art world, resulting in the closure of many institutions and a reduction in funding. Nevertheless, the late 1990s witnessed the emergence of alternative venues such as Project Space SARUBIA, Alternative Space LOOP, Art Space Pool, and Ssamzie Space, which played a crucial role in reshaping the Korean art landscape. Furthermore, the return of artists who had studied and lived abroad injected a fresh vitality to Korean art, bringing diverse interests and novel approaches to the forefront. Meanwhile, amidst challenges like unemployment, evictions, homelessness, and community collapse, there arose a compelling need for a more direct intervention of art in Korean society. The stringent neoliberal restructuring underscored the imperative for heightened public critical awareness, bringing renewed attention to the public role of art. This prompted a shift in public art practice away from market-driven logic, signaling a transformative trajectory in the art scene as the new millennium approached.

Jung Hyun

Media and Technology in Korean Art of the 1990s

Media and Technology This study begins by examining exhibitions related to media art—an area that has long been marginalized in research on Korean art of the 1990s. The exhibition histories has only recently begun to garner scholarly attention. Importantly, the aim of this study is not to propose specific frameworks or methodologies for writing exhibition history. Rather, it seeks to trace archival materials related to (media art) exhibitions in order to explore how we might revisit the irretrievable times and spaces of the past. Throughout this process, the study seeks to reflect on the historical conditions of that period. It should be noted that examining the history of media art exhibitions remains an uncharted domain that cannot be fully addressed through the mere collection of data or theoretical analysis alone. This raises the question of whether the term exhibition histories can, in fact, serve as a viable conceptual framework. How might a “history of exhibitions” be meaningfully constructed? Korean modernism, so to speak, has arrived at the present by piecing together a disjointed spine. Before attempting to write a history of exhibitions, we must first ask: what constitutes an exhibition, and how was it practiced? Only by recovering the records of these processes and the memories of those involved in the field at the time can we begin to develop a concrete and coherent narrative and direction. For this reason, this study should not be understood as an attempt to write a definitive history of exhibitions, but rather as a preliminary investigation that lays the necessary groundwork for constructing such a history. The study focuses on media art–centered exhibitions held from the 1990s to the early 2000s. The scope of research is limited to art institutions capable of sustaining ongoing exhibitions of media art—those in which the key characteristics of media art including exhibition planning, collection, and conservation can be examined. Given these criteria, only a limited number of institutions were qualified as eligible case studies. Priority was given to the long-term research viability of the selected institutions, leading to a focus on media art exhibitions organized by major public art museums. This decision was not intended to exclude exhibitions held in galleries or alternative spaces but rather reflects the perspective that museum exhibitions are more appropriate to constructing “history of media art exhibitions.” Technology as a Social Imagination Before proceeding with the main discussion, it is necessary to clarify certain terminological distinctions. In the Korean context, the terms media art and video art are often used interchangeable—a conflation largely grounded in the fact that video has long served as a dominant medium within the broader category of media art. The prevalence of single-channel video works in exhibitions around the early 2000s further contributed to reinforcing the general familiarity with the term video art. Yet this terminological ambiguity extends beyond the realm of semantics; it provides meaningful insight into the anthropological dimensions of Korea’s technological landscape and media ecology. Beginning in the 1980s, the Korean art scene began to witness the emergence of creative experiments grounded in media-based practices. A pivotal moment came in 1984 when Paik Nam June’s Good Morning, Mr. Orwell was broadcast domestically, which sparked heightened interest in artworks engaging with technological media as distinct from traditional artistic forms. This growing attention persisted into the 1990s, reflecting broader transformations in technology, society, and culture, and ultimately informing new directions in art historical discourse. Concurrently, a series of state-led international events, including the Asian Games Seoul 1986, the Olympic Games Seoul 1988, and the Daejeon international Exposition in 1993, served as catalysts for grand-scale cultural celebrations aimed at integrating advanced science with the arts. From this period onward, artistic practices expanded rapidly to incorporate not only video, but also light, sound, and internet networks in diverse and multidimensional ways.1 During this time, the concept of technology was understood and interpreted in a quite broad sense. Notably, many of these early experiments in technology-based art took place within the context of festivals—an aspect that deserves particular attention. The connection between media art and festivals is most clearly manifested in public art practices that incorporate media technologies. This aspect will be examined in Chapters 2 and 3, which focus on SEOUL in MEDIA and the Seoul Media Biennale, two major initiatives launched in the mid-1990s. While attempts to integrate science and art began as early as the mid to late 1980s, it was not until the 1990s that exhibitions explicitly adopted the term technology art (tech-art). Even a brief glance at Western modernist art reveals that artistic engagement with science and technology resonates with the developmental history of media, beginning with the advent of photography. Marcel Duchamp, for example, employed non-art materials, such as dust, wire, varnish, foil, and glue, in his work The Bride Stripped Bare by her Bachelors, Even (The Large Glass). He also produced explanatory pamphlets containing metaphorical and scientific reflections on technology, encouraging viewers to consult them during the exhibition. In the 1960s, kinetic artist Jean Tinguely staged Study for an End of the World (1962) in the Nevada desert, a performance that involved the detonation of old defunct computers and machine parts. At the time, kinetic art was less concerned with the act of recycling discarded materials than issuing a critical warning about the potential crises that machine civilization could bring to the planet. While technology can serve as a beneficial tool for human advancement, it also holds the potential for destruction—and for that reason, it cannot be uncritically embraced. Art historian Yang Eunhee notes that “the antiwar movement that grew out of student activism in the 1960s also expressed resistance to violence by asserting the incompatibility of technology and war.”2 Decades later, the technology boom that swept through Korea in the 1990s was shaped by a socio-technical imaginary—a vision of a progressive future made possible through the convergence of technology and art. Philosopher of science Kim Sang-Hyun defines the socio-technical imaginaries as a form of co-production,3 whereby “a collectively imagined social order is projected onto the meanings, roles, and objectives of science and technology, while at the same time that social order is shaped by those very technologies.” He further highlights that Korea’s socio-technical imaginary also took on the form of nationalist developmentalism.4 Meanwhile, art historian Lee Eunjoo interprets the concept of technology art in the Korean art scene of the time as encompassing not only the fusion of science, art, and technology, and the notion of open-ended works for audiences, but also the possibility of the artworks themselves becoming subjects of aesthetic interpretation.5 Artist Sim Cheowoong, who explored the relationship between media technologies and art in the 1990s, draws attention to the rapid transitional period during which the computer marked a critical shift from analog to digital systems. He notes that “computer graphics were not simply tools for representing technology, but rather engaged with analog concepts, and amid the sweeping tide of the so-called digital revolution, came to be replaced by the term ‘digital,’ which restructured the patterns of visual culture. As a result, technology art began to give way to the term ‘media art.’”6 In 1996, Sim conducted a notable experiment that staged the collision between digital and analog, as well as between technology and media, by combining 3D animation with video. Post-Media Discourse As the world evolves on a digital foundation, older technologies and objects are rendered obsolete almost instantaneously. As previously discussed, technology and art anticipated the transformation of the sociocultural landscape in the West, following industrialization in the 1960s. In the Korean art scene, a similar shift became more pronounced around 2010, when growing attention began to be paid to the various cultural and social mutations generated by scientific and technological developments. Boris Groys identifies one of the defining conditions of contemporary art as the production and circulation of images within today’s digital networks, which have undergone unprecedented transformation.7 These images became heterogeneous in ways that transcend the physical and technical distinctions of specific media. “In the framework of contemporary culture an image is permanently circulating from one medium to another medium, and from one closed context to another closed context.”8 In this way, images are continuously propagated and extended, ultimately stripped of any specificity tied to time, space, place, or medium—a condition that gives rise to what is now referred as post-cinema discourse. The death of cinema will inevitably be followed by the death of television and eventually, the death of the internet. The term ‘post-media’ denotes the dissolution of the relationship between the image (or event) and any specific site. The evolution of media—from screen to video, to computer monitor, to projector—unfolds in the overlap between emergence and extinction. As a result, consumers, viewers, and users inevitably find themselves caught between obsolete devices and emerging technologies, oscillating between a sense of nostalgia for old machines and the desire for the latest innovations. Today, media can no longer be understood merely as a product; rather, its materiality can be defined in terms of a form of materialism that exists not only within the realm of art, but also through continuous interaction with the surrounding environment. Siegfried Zielinski interprets the materiality of media, and the epistemological structures centered on human and cultural inquiry, as part of media archaeology—a theoretical and practical approach that aligns, at least partially, with the trajectories of philosophy of technology and the humanities.9 Lev Manovich, a leading figure in post-media discourse, has argued that the transition to digital representation, along with the rise of common modification/editing tools—such as copying, pasting, morphing, inserting, filtering, and compositing—has effectively dissolved the traditional boundaries between artistic tools and materials. These tools have blurred the distinctions between photography and painting, and between film and animation. In other words, the relationship between analog and digital is not one of binary opposition, but rather a continuity that spans past and future—a concept that can be understood as extending a posthumanist thought in the age of climate crisis to even include the material remnants of technological civilization. The intersection of these ideas with contemporary art resonates with the practices of the 1960s, such as Fluxus, Happenings, and Conceptual art.

Kim Hong-Ki

The Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale (1995–1997): Globalizing the Aesthetic Traditions of Korea

Although the official exhibitions of the Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale, established in the Giardini Park, Venice, began in 1995, Korea's engagement with the Biennale has an earlier history, with four participations up to 1993. Before the inauguration of the dedicated national pavilion in the Giardini in 1993, Korea took part in the Biennale on four occasions, beginning in 1986. During this early period, Korea organized its exhibitions, in the absence of a permanent pavilion, by setting up temporary booths within the Arsenale, one of the main venues of the Biennale. These exhibitions were organized by the Korean Fine Arts Association. Except for the 1986 exhibition, commissioned by art critic Lee Yil, the participating artists served concurrently as commissioners. Ha Chonghyun served in this capacity in 1988, followed by Lee Seung-taek in 1990 and Suh Seungwon in 1993. While a few younger artists such as Ko Younghoon and Kim Kwansoo participated in their mid-thirties, the majority were established mid-career artists in their forties and fifties, including Park Seo-Bo, Cho Sungmook, Ha Dongchul, Ha Chonghyun, and Hong Myung-seop. Importantly, the exhibited works predominantly employed simple and traditional media, such as painting and sculpture. The inaugural exhibition at Korea’s national pavilion in the Giardini in 1995 marked a transitional phase, from the former system led by the Korean Fine Arts Association to the current system overseen by the Korean Culture and Arts Foundation (now the Arts Council Korea).1 This transitional character was exemplified by the reappointment of Lee Yil, who had previously served as commissioner in 1986, and the relatively high age range of the participating artists (Kwak Hoon, Kim Inkyum, Yun Hyongkeun, and Jheon Soocheon), who were in their forties and sixties, signaling continuity with the earlier legacy and system. However, the exhibition also marked a shift in artistic direction. While Yun Hyongkeun was the only artist to present a painting, Kwak Hoon, Kim Inkyum, and Jheon Soocheon exhibited installation works. This shift reflected a clear departure from the earlier dominance of painting, highlighting a great diversity of artistic media. In a statement published shortly before the opening of the Korean Pavilion and its inaugural exhibition, Commissioner Lee Yil addressed the discourse of globalization by asserting that “While promoting the global dissemination of Korean art, we should actively invite and engage with international-scale foreign art within Korea.”2 His remarks emphasized an understanding of globalization not as a unidirectional movement enabling Korean art to enter the international stage, but as a reciprocal and dialogic process of exchange between Korean and international artistic spheres. This bilateral conception of globalization was institutionally realized through two major initiatives launched in 1995: the Gwangju Biennale and the Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale. While the Gwangju Biennale sought to bring large-scale international art into Korea, the Korean Pavilion was envisioned as a strategic platform for amplifying the presence of Korean art and artists globally. However, this understanding of globalization rested on a tacitly accepted binary between “Korean art” and “international art.” The very premise of promoting mutual exchange presupposed their ontological distinction between Korean and international art. Within such a framework, the imperative of globalization becomes the identification and promotion of what is constructed as uniquely Korean, something defined in contrast to, and presumed absent from, international art. Among the artists featured in the inaugural exhibition of the Korean Pavilion, Jheon Soocheon garnered particular attention by receiving a special award for his installation Clay Icon in Wandering Planets―Korean’s Spirit, a work composed of industrial waste, TV monitors, and traditional clay figurines fired in Gyeongju. While this recognition at the Korean Pavilion’s inaugural exhibition marked a significant achievement, it simultaneously reinforced the belief that Korean art’s distinctiveness resides in its traditional cultural signifiers, exemplified here by the figurines made in Gyeongju. It is widely acknowledged that, even at the time, concerns were raised about the Orientalist framing that juxtaposed Western artistic modernity with Korean cultural traditionalism.3 Nonetheless, the view that Korean art's global identity should be grounded in traditional aesthetics persisted, a perspective notably carried forward into the Korean Pavilion's subsequent exhibition in 1997. The commissioner of the Korean Pavilion’s 1997 exhibition was Oh Kwang-su. Like Lee Yil, who had overseen the Pavilion’s inaugural exhibition, Oh was a prominent art critic. The appointment of a professional curator as commissioner did not occur until 2001. Oh Kwang-su selected two artists for the 1997 exhibition: Kang Ik-Joong and Lee Hyungwoo. Both were relatively young, in their thirties and forties, and had studied abroad after graduating from the College of Fine Arts at Hongik University. Kang, born in 1960, pursued his education in New York and continued his artistic practice there. Born in 1955, Lee studied in Paris and Rome before returning to Korea, where he actively engaged in both artistic practice and art education. The decision to feature two internationally educated, mid-career artists with substantial overseas experience suggests that, within the discourse of Korean art’s globalization, preference was given to artists who had attuned to the universalist of global contemporary art, rather than those focused on articulating the authenticity of Korean art. In discussing the mediums employed by the participating artists, Oh Kwang-su emphasized that both were deeply committed to exploring the most traditional medium of fine art: painting and sculpture. He commented; “This year’s Venice Biennale features two artists: Kang Ik-Joong in painting, and Lee Hyungwoo in sculpture. [...] However, Kang Ik-Joong’s paintings and Lee Hyungwoo’s sculptures depart from painting or sculpture but relentlessly return to their respective mediums, showing a consciousness of return.”4 However, the practices of Kang and Lee also possessed a transmedial quality that could not be fully accounted for by a mere “consciousness of return.” Though Kang is typically identified as a painter, his exhibited piece displayed pronounced characteristics of installation. It consisted of over 13,000 small, three-inch square wooden reliefs, arranged in a grid, capturing everything ranging from childhood memories to scenes of daily life in New York. Each grouping bore subtitles such as Buddha Singing Opera, Let’s Learn Chinese Characters, and Making Bibimbap. Similarly, Lee’s work, though classified as sculpture, also took on the character of installation. His series, titled The There Is, comprised geometric forms constructed from barbed wire, terracotta, and wood, materials not typically associated with traditional sculpture. Notably, the works featured small, varied objects arranged in grid formations on the floor, along with translucent barbed-wire structures affixed to gallery windows, which clearly demonstrated a departure from the conventional boundaries of sculptural practice. Following Jheon Soocheon and Kang Ik-Joong’s receipt of a special prize marked a second consecutive win for the Korean Pavilion. Kang frequently likened his work to ‘bibimbap’, a metaphor he also used in the subtitles of his exhibited pieces. This metaphor is open to dual interpretation. On one hand, bibimbap, as a distinctly Korean dish, can be interpreted as emphasizing the traditional aesthetics of Korean art. On the other hand, its assemblage of heterogeneous ingredients may serve as a metaphor for the universalist tendencies in Kang’s practice, traversing clear boundaries such as Korean and international, self and other, and tradition and modernity. Faced with these two interpretive trajectories, tradition and universality, Commissioner Oh Kwang-su justified the selection of the two artists by asserting that their works contained “fragments of traditional Korean aesthetics” despite their “universal sensibility.”5 Kang’s small images were interpreted as evocative of talismans or folk paintings, Minhwa, while Lee’s cubic objects were seen as reminiscent of household artifacts or discarded wooden vessels from old farmhouses in rural settings. As with the previous exhibition, Korean specificity was once again sought in traditional aesthetics to define Korea’s position in an era of globalization.

Mun Hye Jin

Shifting from Technology Art to Video Art: The Early-to-Mid 1990s Video Landscape through the Work of Hong Sungmin

In March 1990, a Korean magazine published a special feature article on video art. The article introduced fifteen major video artists from both Korea and abroad and provided an overview of the current state and future prospects of video art.1 It presented early pioneers such as Paik Nam June, Richard Serra, and Ant Farm, positioning the emergence of video art as a critical response to the conservative aesthetics of commercial television. Based on the article’s emphasis on the aesthetic and formal classifications of video art, it may be inferred that the Korean art world at the time had a certain level of awareness of the Western discourse surrounding video art. However, the article served primarily as an introductory overview of Western video art.2 Given that Korean video art can be traced back at least to the 1970s, with artists such as Kim Kulim and Park Hyunki, and that the genre began to gain real momentum in the 1980s following the broadcast of Paik Nam June’s Good Morning, Mr. Orwell (1984), this lack of earlier engagement may come as a surprise. While traditional video art in the West began to decline in its narrower sense, specifically as a medium based on magnetic tape was gradually replaced by new digital technologies, in Korea, video art only began to flourish during this period. This contrast reflects both the temporal gap between Korea and the West and the contextual particularities of the Korean art scene. However, it was not until the late 1990s that works grounded in temporality—the most distinctive characteristic of video art as noted in the article—began to fully take shape in Korean contexts. In this context, Hong Sungmin, who studied Time Arts at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and returned to Korea in 1992, serves as a representative figure of the early Korean video art scene. As one of the first artists to formally study video in the United States—the center of video art—Hong represented a rare case of direct engagement with the discourse of Western video art. Until the late 1990s, when a new generation of artists, including Park Hwayoung, Seo Hyunsuk, and Ham Yangah, who also studied video and film in the U.S., began their careers, he remained virtually alone in this regard. Following his homecoming exhibition of Mass Media & Multi Medium (Dongbang Plaza Gallery, 1992), he actively participated not only in solo exhibitions such as Sauna/Sound (Midopa Gallery, Midopa Department Store, Sanggye Branch, 1994), as well as major domestic and international media art shows and young artists exhibitions. These included Front DMZ (Seoul Museum of Art, 1993), Young Korean Artists '94 (MMCA, 1994), Fukuoka Asian Art Triennale (1995), Ssack (Art Sonje Center, 1995), Rebellion of Space: Korean Avant-Garde Art since 1967-1995 (Seoul Museum of Art, 1995), The New Generational Tendency in Korean Contemporary Art: Body and Recognition (ARKO Art Center, 1995), InfoART (Gwangju Biennale, 1995), and the first edition of SEOUL in MEDIA 1988–2002 (Seoul 600 Year Memorial Hall, 1996). Hong Sungmin’s early works employed a variety of time-based media beyond video, including sound installations and slide projections. Notable examples include Appropriation of Appropriation (1992), a sound installation that replaced Roy Lichtenstein’s Ben-Day dots with 800 speakers, and Audiology I: Physical Education–The Body–Physical Education (1992), a complex installation incorporating computer-printed photographs, video, slide projections, and speakers. From 1994 onward, Hong Sungmin focused primarily on video works. Emblematic works from the mid-1990s include Man and Queen (1994) (presented in Young Korean Artists ’94), which juxtaposes the male-centered power structure—appropriating the images of the Seongsu Bridge’s collapse, the television drama The Third Republic, and the film The Bridge on the River Kwai—with commercial imagery that objectifies women; By King Bye! King (1995) (featured in the exhibition Ssack), which likens the vanity of power and the cyclical nature of history to the back-and-forth motion of a Viking pirate ship ride; and Windows’ 95 (1995) (shown in InfoART), which critiques the unilateral imposition of corporate systems that compel global users to conform, framing such systems as a form of violence. Hong Sungmin’s early works were largely understood through their message-oriented approaches, such as critiques of sociopolitical realities and the disclosure of ideologies in mass media. Because his early pieces were often mixed-media installations rather than long-length single-channel videos, the temporal and conceptual dimensions inherent in his work received less critical emphasis. As a result, his practice was classified within installation art or technological art movements, which were gaining prominence in Korea at the time. Hong Sungmin’s work, which engages with appropriation, mass media, synesthetic corporeality, and the relationship between high art and consumer culture, markedly differs in tone and approach from that of his domestically trained contemporaries, whose practices tended to be more existential and metaphysical. Despite Hong’s intentions for his work to be recognized as time-based art, it was often interpreted within the prevailing frameworks of the Korean art scene of the time. First and foremost, in the early to mid-1990s, the concept of single-channel video art emphasizing content had not yet taken firm root in Korea. In his essay titled “Seven Reasons Why TV Is Better than Video Art,” written for the exhibition T-V (Gongpyeong Art Center, 1996), Hong remarked that this show was the first exhibition in Korea dedicated to tape-based (single-channel) video. With the participation of Korea’s first generation of single-channel artists as well as commercial and animation directors—including Kim Sejin, ium, Kang Young Mean, Lee Jungjae, Cha Eun-taek, and Lee Sung-gang—this exhibition marked a pivotal moment in the emergence of a media culture that prioritized genuine engagement with video imagery itself.3 With the launch of cable television and M.net in 1995 in Korea, followed by the start of 24-hour broadcasting in 1996, an unprecedented proliferation of visual imagery saturated everyday life. This ushered in a full-fledged video generation, and it was during this period- mid-to-late 1990s when artists began producing single-channel video and content-driven video art began to establish as a unique practice in Korea. Another reason is that the early 1990s, when Hong Sungmin returned to Korea and began his practice, was a period when installation art and technology art were at the forefront of critical discourse in the Korean art scene. Art magazines at that time frequently featured special issues dedicated to installation art. One such issue, for example, introduced a range of new generation art groups like Museum and Sub Club; technology art figures, such as Kim Jaegwon and Kim Yoon; and more classical installation artists including Kimsooja and Lee Sanghyun, introducing them collectively as 1990s installation art in Korea.4 In the exhibition Rebellion of Space: Korean Avant-Garde Art since 1967–1995 (Seoul Museum of Art, 1995), curated by Yoon Jinsup as a comprehensive survey of Korean three-dimensional and installation art, both technology art and new generation art were designated as distinct sections alongside experimental art and postmodern small-group movements. As a result, Hong Sungmin’s video works were often classified narrowly as technology art and, more broadly, as installation art. Examples of the latter include the aforementioned Rebellion of Space exhibition and Instal-Scape (Daegu Arts Center, 1996), a curated installation exhibition by Hong Myung-seop. At the time, video art was often regarded as a subset of installation art. This perspective was largely shaped by first-generation Korean video artists like Yook Keunbyung and Oh Sang-Ghil, whose work rooted in installation practices emerged from the small-group movements of the 1980s. Moreover, leading mid-1990s video artists based in Korea, including Kim Youngjin, Yook Taejin, and Kim Haemin produced works in which video was deeply integrated as installation formats. (Many of these artists were trained in sculpture and primarily engaged in video installation.) Meanwhile, technology art flourished in the early 1990s, developing either as a subset of installation art or as a distinct practice, unified by shared concerns with postmodernism, globalization, and the prevailing zeitgeist. Although it was more closely aligned with Hong Sungmin’s work in terms of media, technology art differed significantly in both sensibility and contextual orientation. It began to take shape in the late 1980s under the influence of Paik Nam June and the return of artists who had studied media in Japan and Europe. Its momentum continued into the early 1990s, further facilitated by digital transition and government policies promoting the video industry (1993). Representative exhibitions include High-Voltage Line (Total Museum of Contemporary Art, 1988), 220V (Noksaek Gallery, 1989), Electronic Café (Ahn Graphics, 1990), Art and Technology (Seoul Arts Center, 1991), Science + Art Show (KOEX, 1992), and Technology Art Exhibition: Nature and Technology (Expo Culture and Arts Exhibition Center, Daejeon, 1993). What stood out across these exhibitions was a fascination with new media itself and a utopian optimism regarding the capacities and potentials of technology.5 In contrast, Hong Sungmin’s emphasis did not lie in a fascination with cutting-edge technology, but rather in a homeopathic strategy that employed media aligned with mass consumer society to critique mass media itself. This orientation was already evident in the exhibition Mass Media & Multi Medium (1992). In an interview with Lee Jun, Hong clearly stated that the media used in the exhibition served solely as a means of facilitating communication with the audience; using media for its own sake held no intrinsic meaning for him. Unlike conventional mass media, which disseminates content unilaterally, Hong aimed to create multi-mediated platforms that, through the artist’s intervention, fostered interactive communication with viewers and this, he emphasized, was the main purpose behind his use of media.6 A common theme through all of Hong Sungmin’s works is his critical engagement with mass media imagery and the mechanisms and structures through which such images operate. His playful sensibility marked by a mixture of seriousness and humor, cynicism and fascination resonates more closely with the ethos of new generation art than with that of technology art. In this sense, Hong Sungmin’s early works were, to some extent, misunderstood, partly because there were no contemporaries at the time whose practices meaningfully intersected with his own. For example, many of his works deal with themes of voyeurism. Sauna/Sound (1994) stages a scene of naked men in a sauna, seemingly being secretly observed through a glass door; Rear Windows, “ I said I’m not gonna hurt you” (1997) invites viewers to peep at selected scenes from films in which men commit acts of violence against women; and Peeping/People (1997) which displays imagery of cheerleaders whose figures are revealed only by the presence of the viewer’s shadow. In these works, voyeurism is employed as a strategy to appropriate the representational methods of television and film—much like Cindy Sherman’s Untitled Film Stills (1977–80)—in order to make viewers reflect on the underlying structures of these media. By projecting images from the rear of the screen to simulate act of peering into someone else’s apartment window (a reference to the film Rear Window), by casting light from the opposite side of a video projector to use shadows as a screen, or by separating sound and image,7 Hong Sungmin’s work at times echoes the influence of artists like Peter Campus, who similarly intervened in the physical structure of video presentation. However, at the time of production, there was a lack of theoretical and practical frameworks within which such formal strategies could only be understood. As a result, his works were largely interpreted in terms of their messages—whether as critiques of pervasive gender-based violence or reflections on Korean social mores—while their formal and conceptual qualities were largely overlooked. It was only in the late 1990s and early 2000s, with an emergence of a new generation of artists and a deeper understanding of video art, that concepts inherent in video art such as temporality, narrative, and apparatus began to be shared and widely discussed. Yet by the mid-2000s, Hong had shifted his focus from video work to performance, and his early practice remained largely neglected in critical discussions. In this sense, Hong Sungmin’s work—arguably ahead of its time—not only reveals the transitional phase in which video art began to diverge its entanglement from technology art but also exemplifies the contextual particularities of Korean video art history, where artistic practice often developed in isolation from established critical contexts.

Tiffany Yeon Chae

From a Site of Memory to a Global Platform: The Founding of the Gwangju Biennale and Beyond the Borders (1995)

The development of international biennales can generally be divided into three waves.1 The Venice Biennale, which began in 1895, represents the Eurocentric art system, while Documenta in Kassel, Germany, launched in 1955, developed within the context of postwar Germany and reconstruction. Beginning in the mid-1980s, a new wave of biennales emerged in non-Western contexts, notably in cities such as Gwangju, Havana, Istanbul, and Johannesburg. These biennales reflect the emergence of regions once objectified as the “Third World” as new cultural agents within the broader dynamics of globalization. They have become critical platforms that sharply reflect contemporary culture, characterized by the global movement of people, capital, and information. Since its establishment in 1995, the Gwangju Biennale has hosted fifteen exhibitions over thirty years, playing a pivotal role in introducing contemporary Korean art to the international stage. It is critical to note that the Gwangju Biennale emerged from Gwangju, a city symbolically associated with the pro-democracy movement and from Asia, a region historically marginalized within the Eurocentric biennale system. In this light, it presented a model that integrated locality and globality, thereby establishing itself as a precedent for non-Western biennales. Therefore, examining the founding context and early development of the Gwangju Biennale not only offers insights into the internal transformations of Korean art but also reveals how art institutions in non-Western regions have been reconfigured within the broader framework of global art history. From this perspective, this study explores the founding and institutional development of the Gwangju Biennale in order to reassess its position and significance within the global art ecosystem. The Founding of the Gwangju Biennale: From Gwangju to the World Established in 1995, the Gwangju Biennale quickly rose to prominence as one of the most noteworthy biennials in the world. With substantial state funding, it organized major international exhibitions featuring prominent figures from the global art world, drawing an enormous audience in a short period of time, thereby making a remarkable impact on the global biennale landscape. Notably, the inaugural Gwangju Biennale attracted as many as 1.63 million visitors—an exceptional record, especially when contrasted with the Venice Biennale’s record attendance of 800,000 in 2022, despite its 130-year history. This positions the Gwangju Biennale’s debut as an unprecedented achievement in the history of international biennales. From its founding to the present, the Gwangju Biennale has relied heavily on public financial support from both the national and local governments. This model differs significantly from the Venice Biennale, which depends on financial contributions from participating countries, or the Sydney Biennale, which is jointly funded by the host and participating nations.2 René Block, who served as co-commissioner for the third Gwangju Biennale in 2000, viewed this structure as a major strength, noting that it afforded the Biennale's board greater autonomy in selecting themes and appointing directors. Moreover, the government's decentralization efforts, marked by a reduction in central administrative control and the full implementation of local self-governance, further contributed to the Biennale’s early success.3 In fact, the inaugural budget reveals that 10.4 billion KRW (approximately 7.5 million USD) accounting for 60 percent of the total 18.2 billion KRW (approximately 13.1 million USD) allocated to exhibition hall construction, was provided by the Gwangju city government.4 Following the success of the Gwangju Biennale, other local governments launched their own biennales in succession, including Seoul Mediacity Biennale (2000), Gyeonggi Ceramics Biennale (2001), and Busan Biennale (2002). The Gwangju Biennale emerged as a relative latecomer to the global biennale landscape, originating from the geographical and cultural periphery of Asia. However, by intertwining the historical legacy of the May 18 Gwangju Democratization Movement in Korea, with the political and social currents of globalization, it strategically sought to transcend local specificity in favor of broader universality and global resonance. Its founding manifesto, which aspired to create a global community transcending nation, ethnicity, ideology, and religion, articulates the Biennale’s intention to establish itself not merely as a national art event, but as a significant platform for international cultural discourse. “The People of Gwangju respect the diversity and uniqueness of cultures around the world, and seek balance between the East and West. They hope to see the creation of a lively pan-Asian culture for the 21st century, the Pacific Age.”5 Furthermore, the manifesto emphasized that Gwangju, historically renowned for its artistic traditions, would actively embrace new paradigms such as information technology. “Using art’s ability to condense and to adapt, the Gwangju Biennale will pursue globalization rather than westernization; diversity rather than uniformity. Art should be flexible enough to act as an index for the future and a reflection of present realities, yet be rich and mature enough to maintain traditional values in our lives and thinking. The latest developments in science and technology can collaborate with tradition in this process, and ultimately guide us in our pursuit of a new consciousness grounded in freedom and imagination.”6 The civilian government of President Kim Young-sam designated 1995 as the “Year of Art,” signalling a proactive stance on art and cultural policy. This followed South Korea’s successful hosting of the 1988 Seoul Olympics and the 1993 Daejeon Expo, which showcased the country’s development and technological advancement to the world.7 Since the 1960s, South Korea had actively participated in overseas biennales such as the São Paulo and Paris Biennales, fully recognizing the symbolic significance of international exhibitions. In 1993, Korean artist Paik Nam June won the Golden Lion at the Venice Biennale for representing the German Pavilion, and the inauguration of the Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale was scheduled for 1995. In 1995, designated as the Year of Art and marking the fiftieth anniversary of Korea’s liberation, calls from the art community to establish an international biennale in Korea began to gain momentum. Established sculptor Kim Youngjung, who was based in Gwangju, proposed that hosting a biennale in Gwangju, a city still bearing the trauma of the Gwangju Democratization Movement, could serve as a catalyst for healing through art. The proposal gained the support of then-Mayor Kang Woon-tae, and with the involvement of art professionals such as Lee Yongwoo, discussions between the central government and the city of Gwangju regarding the establishment of the Gwangju Biennale began to take shape.8 A preliminary planning team was formed on September 28, 1994, followed by the mayor’s official announcement of the biennale project on November 14. On December 6, the inaugural organizing committee was formed, comprising fifty-three members that included officials from the central government and the city of Gwangju, journalists, scholars, critics, and artists. On January 27, 1995, President Kim visited Gwangju and pledged full support at the central government level, stating that the Biennale represented “a decisive opportunity to showcase Gwangju to the world” and “an important stepping stone toward globalization.”11 Meanwhile, Paik Nam June played a significant role in bringing major international curators and artists to participate in the inaugural Gwangju Biennale. It was Paik who first proposed the co-commissioner model for the main exhibition, structured around the concept of “five oceans, six continents.” He was also deeply involved in organizing the exhibition of 1993 Whitney Biennial in Seoul at the National Museum of Contemporary Art (now MMCA) of Korea, as well as the establishment of the Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale in 1995. For the inaugural Gwangju Biennale, he co-curated the special exhibition InfoART with Cynthia Goodman and Kim Hong-hee. In the exhibition, he presented Dolmen, an experimental large-scale installation that combined television monitors, Korean jangdokdae—platforms for storing earthenware crocks of sauces and condiments—and video art. On the eve of the opening, he also staged a “video opera,” an experimental blend of piano performance and video art. Beyond the Borders (1995): A Suggestion for global harmony The inaugural Gwangju Biennale was held over sixty-two days, from September 20 to November 20, 1995. It was a large-scale international exhibition featuring the main exhibition and six special exhibitions, with over 660 artists from fifty-eight participating countries. On the opening day, a banner proclaiming “To Gwangju, to the World” stretched across Geumnam-ro Street in Gwangju. Throughout the exhibition, more than 2,200 members of ethnic performing troupes from thirty countries took part in parades and live performances. That street, once marked by the brutal loss of many lives, was transformed into a vibrant stage for an integrated arts festival, uniting Gwangju’s citizens, artists, and visitors alike. The main theme of the exhibition was “Beyond the Borders,” aiming to transcend all existing boundaries—political, cultural, religious, and geographical—in pursuit of global unity. The exhibition was divided into six regions—Europe, Asia, the Americas, Oceania, the Middle East, and Africa—each curated by one of seven commissioners: You Hongjune, Oh Kwang-su, Sung Wan-kyung, Kathy Halbreich, Jean de Loisy, Anda Rottenberg, and Clive Adams. Works in each section addressed themes of borders, identity, and the sociopolitical conditions of each region. Importantly, the Cuban artist Kcho’s installation To Forget depicted the dire reality faced by refugees and was awarded the Grand Prize of the biennale. Korean artists Hong Sungdam and Kim Jungheun presented realist works rooted in the Minjung art tradition, while critically engaging with the political climate of the 1980s. Among the six special exhibitions, the most prominent was InfoART, co-curated by Paik Nam June, Cynthia Goodman, and Kim Hong-hee. The exhibition examined the interplay between viewer, machine, and artwork through video and computer interfaces, envisioning the role of art in the digital era. Let us consider how art professionals at the time assessed the Gwangju Biennale. Jang Seokwon, former Deputy Executive Director, observed that a key factor in the success of the Gwangju Biennale was its collaborative framework, which integrated the efforts of local government officials, organizing and executive committees, and art experts from both Korea and abroad.12 Art critic Seo Seong-rok emphasized that the biennale revitalized stagnant regional cultural activities, while proposing a new cultural paradigm centered on the Asia-Pacific region. It broke away from the conventional “lodger-like” model of participation in international exhibitions, instead establishing an autonomous platform for global art discourse.13 Lee Yongwoo, who served as the chief of the curatorial team and later as the biennale’s president, highlighted that the inaugural exhibitions were conceived as a critical response to the aesthetic disorder proliferating under the name of “pluralism” and sought to examine the underlying substance of cultural boundaries.14 The first Gwangju Biennale was held at a time when postmodernism, pluralism, and postcolonial discourses in art were dominant both in Korea and abroad. In this context, the activities undertaken two years earlier by three key figures in the exhibition’s planning—Lim Youngbang, then Director of the MMCA; Paik Nam June; and Lee Yongwoo—are particularly noteworthy. One of the activities was hosting the exhibition of 1993 Whitney Biennial in Seoul, a Korean adaptation of the exhibition originally held at the Whitney Museum of American Art in the United States. This project was initiated by Director Lim Youngbang, with Paik Nam June and Lee Yongwoo providing financial backing and operational support, respectively. Through the theme “borderline,” the exhibition addressed critical issues in American society such as race, gender, and class conflict. By employing a genre-defying format that merged video art and installation, it provoked a profound “cultural shock” among Korean audiences. Given this context, it can be inferred that these figures, central to the introduction of postmodern discourse in Korea, made new attempts through Beyond the Borders to articulate a distinctively Korean formulation of postcolonial discourse. Meanwhile, Lee Yongwoo underscores the significance of Minjung art in contemporary Korean art, attributing its philosophical foundation to the civic spirit of Gwangju—the epicenter of the May 18 Democratization Movement in 1980.15 This “Gwangju spirit,” he argues, serves as a catalyst for cultivating citizens’ autonomous cultural consciousness and as a foundation for embracing the pluralistic themes of contemporary art.16 Sung Wan-kyung, who served as commissioner for the Latin American section in the inaugural Gwangju Biennale, further contends that the Biennale is a cultural movement with collective influence in the Third World context. He draws parallels with Latin American conceptual art, particularly in its attempts to translate utopian ideals into social and cultural experience.17 Over the past three decades, the Gwangju Biennale has continuously reinterpreted the legacy of the May 18 Gwangju Democratization Movement, thoughtfully engaging with the social function and responsibility of art. Through this commitment, it appears to have securely positioned itself as an integral part of the international exhibition system.

Jeon Yushin

Naturalism and Eastern Tradition: Working with Nature (1992), The Tiger’s Tail (1995), and Leaning Forward, Looking Back (2003)

The exhibition Working with Nature: Traditional Thought in Contemporary Art from Korea, jointly organized by the National Museum of Contemporary Art, Korea (now National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, MMCA) and Tate Liverpool in 1992, featured works by six prominent Korean artists of Dansaekhwa (Korean monochrome painting): Kim Tschang-Yeul, Park Seo-Bo, Yun Hyongkeun, Lee Kangso, Lee Ufan, and Chung Changsup. In the exhibition catalogue, texts contributed by staff from both institutions as well as art critic Lee Yil consistently emphasize that the naturalism expressed in Dansaekhwa originates in Eastern philosophy.1 This curatorial framing presents an Eastern worldview rooted in naturalism as the core of “Koreanness,” suggesting that contemporary Korean art inherits and extends this cultural tradition. Such a distinctly Orientalist perspective has been applied to numerous exhibitions of contemporary Korean art held in the West. The National Museum of Contemporary Art, Korea, along with Lee Yil—who also curated the inaugural Korean Pavilion exhibition at the Venice Biennale—played a central role in shaping a curatorial lineage that positioned naturalism and Eastern tradition as defining elements of Korean contemporary art. The National Museum of Contemporary Art, Korea continued to organize exhibitions of contemporary Korean art that adopted the curatorial framework of Working with Nature well into the early 2000s.2 Year Exhibitions Venue 1991 Korean Contemporary Paintings Four galleries in Yugoslavia 1992 Working with Nature: Traditional Thought in Contemporary Art from Korea Tate Liverpool, U.K. 1995 The Tiger’s Tail—15 Korean Contemporary Artists for Venice ’95 Vendramin Palace at Carmini, Venice, Italy 1997 Ancient Traditions New Forms: Contemporary Art from Korea Joseloff Gallery, Hartford, U.S.A. 1998 In the Year of Tiger—Contemporary Art from Korea House of World Cultures, Berline, Germany Museum Lugwig, Aachen, Germany 1999 Korean Contemporary Prints: A Reflection of a Culture (La Estampa Coreana Contemporánea: Reflejo de Una Cultura) National Chalcography, The Royal Academy of Fine Arts, Madrid, Spain 2003 Leaning Forward, Looking Back: Eight Contemporary Artists from Korea Asian Art Museum of San Francisco Chong-Moon Lee Center for Asian Art and Culture 2005 Contemporary Art from Korea — Alchemy of Daily Life Christchurch Art Gallery, New Zealand 2007-2008 Peppermint Candy: Contemporary Art from Korea in Seoul Contemporary Art in Santiago, Chile National Art Museum of Argentina in Buenos Aires A list of exhibitions of contemporary Korean art organized by the MMCA in the West during the 1990s and 2000s A notable characteristic of many of these exhibitions is that their titles explicitly frame tradition or nature as the core of “Koreanness.” Exhibitions such as The Tiger’s Tail—15 Korean Contemporary Artists for Venice ’95 and In the Year of Tiger—Contemporary Art from Korea employed the tiger—a signifier that encompasses both nature and tradition—in their titles, thereby reinforcing this curatorial framework. Since the early twentieth century, the tiger has been perceived as a symbolic animal representing the Korean peninsula’s topography as well as the identity of the Korean nation and people. This symbolism has persisted into the present, most notably through Hodori, the mascot of the 1988 Seoul Olympics. The title of the 2003 exhibition Leaning Forward, Looking Back: Eight Contemporary Artists from Korea, held at the Asian Art Museum of San Francisco, is another example of the application of this curatorial framework. Its Korean title, The Song of Four Seasons, was drawn from Jung Jongmee’s 2002 work Four Seasons of Fishermen: Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter, which itself references Yun Seon-do’s classical poem “Four Seasons of Fishermen.”3 Jung’s work offers a visual interpretation of the traditional Korean worldview and lifestyle in harmony with nature, as articulated in Yun’s poem. The exhibition title, echoing that of Jung’s piece, thus underscores the notion that contemporary Korean art, like her work, embodies a modern reinterpretation of tradition. Alongside Jung, the participating artists included Kim Hongju, Cho Duckhyun, and Hwang Inkie, whose works similarly reflect this characteristic. In other exhibitions organized by the National Museum of Contemporary Art, Korea, artists whose work engaged with themes of nature or tradition were frequently selected. These exhibitions were often structured to balance participants across generations and artistic genres. A total of 149 artists took part in contemporary Korean art exhibitions held in the West by the museum during the 1990s and 2000s, with seventeen of them featured in more than two exhibitions. Among the senior artists, participation was particularly notable among Dansaekhwa painters, with the exception of Paik Nam June, who stood apart due to his high level of international recognition.4 Among the mid-career generation, Kim Hongju, Yun Suknam, and Bae Bien-U—whose works explore imagery and materials related to nature and tradition—were representative figures. From the younger generation, artists such as Kim Youngjin, Ahn Sungkeum, Cho Duckhyun, and Choi Jeonghwa, whose practices likewise referenced elements of Korean tradition, were frequently selected. In his essay for the Working with Nature exhibition catalogue, Lee Yil defined Dansaekhwa, which embodies an Eastern worldview rooted in nature, as a quintessential model of Korean modernism. He emphasized this same curatorial framework in the inaugural exhibition of the Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale, which he curated. That exhibition also featured Yun Hyongkeun’s Dansaekhwa paintings, along with installation works by Kwak Hoon, Kim Inkyum, and Jheon Soocheon that highlighted themes of nature and East Asian sensibility. Jheon Soocheon’s Clay Icon in Wandering Planets-Korean’s Spirit which received a Special Mention, juxtaposed terracotta figures—symbols of Eastern nature and spirit—with the detritus of industrial society. Kwak Hoon presented Kalpa/Sound; What Marco Polo Left Behind, an installation of forty onggi (traditional Korean earthenware jars) arranged around the Korean Pavilion. For two days following the exhibition’s opening, the installation was accompanied by a daegeum (Korean bamboo flute) performance by musician Kim Young-dong and a meditation performance by Buddhist nuns. * This essay is a revised version of the author’s earlier essay, “Exhibitions of Contemporary Korean Art Held Overseas,” originally published in Contemporary Korean Art Since the 1990s (co-authored by Yun Nanji et al., planned by the Forum for Contemporary Art, Seoul: Sahoipyoungnon, 2017).

Kim Hong-hee

Postmodernist Feminist Art in the 1990s

1. Korean Feminist Art as a Form of Non/Anti/Post-Modernism Feminist art fundamentally arises from criticism of gender-discriminatory culture and male-centric art circles, in which women and women’s art is perceived as the other. This perspective, therefore, results in criticism and rejection of modernism, which is predominantly a male-driven movement. Modernist art first emerged from French avant-garde art in the late 19th century, ultimately maturing in the post-WW2 United States. Modernism’s purist attitudes toward media and formalist absolutism threatened the existence of women’s art. Given these circumstances, American feminist critic Lucy Lippard asserted, “The greatest contribution of feminist art movements is that it has contributed nothing to modernism.”1 British art historian Griselda Pollock also stated, “Feminism must comprise a complete criticism of the practice, system, and critiquing structure of modernism. Of course, pro-modernist feminists such as Pauline Johnson argued that modernism is compatible with feminism, but the modernism that they spoke of is Habermasian enlightenment modernism, which is distinct from the type of formalist modernism that has been established as an art style. Korean feminist art emerged comparatively later than in the United States or Europe and with lukewarm support, but it too derives from criticism of modernism. Ever since it was introduced to the Korean art community by artists who had studied in France or the United States, modernist art developed through the 60s and 70s and led to the popularity of abstract styles such Art Informel, monochrome painting, and geometric abstraction. As exemplified by the figurative art of Pyohyun Group in the 70s, the neo-expressionist women’s figurative art of the 80s, and the realist figurative art of Minjung feminists, the critique of modernism by women artists emerges, whether consciously or not, as a rejection of abstraction and support for figurative representation. Where for men, the anti-modernist figurative movement emerged with Fact and Reality (Sasilgwa hyeonsil), a hyperrealist group established in 1978, for women it began in 1971, with the Pyohyun Group. That women were first to pursue a figurative style partly reflects the gender characteristics of women, who prefer the figurative over the abstract, but it is more an urgent recognition of the reality of a male-driven modernist movement. The figurative work of the Pyohyun Group is distinct from that of hyperrealist groups. Where the latter thematizes the peripheries of contemporary life and the banality of everyday life and utilizes hyperrealistic trompe l’oeil to create an objective, formalized, and abstract representation of the subject matter, Yoo Yeunhee, Kim Myong Hi, and Lee Eun-san of the Pyohyun Group depict women’s psychological and social experiences in a manner that is both subjective and emotive. In so much as it is expressive, autobiographical, and empathetic, the figurative art of neo-expressionists such as Kim Wonsook is no different. Where the Pyohyun Group and neo-expressionists are non-modernists, the realist figurative art of Minjung feminists, as an official style of Minjung art, is clearly anti-modernist. In short, the non-modernist figurative art of the 70s to the 80s and the anti-modernist figurative art of Minjung feminists represent feminist influence as a feminine response to modernist abstraction. Even so, the figurative art of women artists was not interpreted as an anti-modernist resistance but rather a non-modern, primordial, or narrative, female style. In contrast, male-driven hyperrealism, Minjung art, and neo-expressionism were recognized as a newly emerging anti-modernist force, shifting the flow of art history under the umbrella term “postmodern painting.” Where feminist figurative artists in the 70s and 80s worked with a will toward non/anti-modernism, the postmodernist feminists of the 90s experimented with deconstruction of genre and medium specificity under de-modernist sentiments. Rather than criticizing men themselves, they criticized patriarchy at the level of society, which had produced patriarchal discourses. From a de-modernist perspective, they focused on issues of gender, representation, and body as they made a statement on post-modernist feminism. In short, Korean women’s art has undergone phases of non-modernism, anti-modernism, and de-modernism to reach the present situation. 2. Pluralization of Feminist Art in the 1990s While the members of the Pyohyun Group pursued non-modernist styles, their work was a feminine style within the framework of modernism. As such, it is inevitable that what they pursue differs from anti-modernist Minjung art. In an art community divided into modernism and Minjung art in the 80s, the two branches of feminism cut off communication with each other and therefore were unable to manifest feminism as a single, unified force. But towards the 90s, the emergence of postmodernism resulted in the two factions of feminism engaging in exchange or even partial cooperation, which led to the formation of a pluralist current. As if answering the call of pluralism and decentralism, postmodernist feminism in the 90s transcended the ideological, stylistic, and genre limitations to incorporate a diverse range of works from modernism, Minjung art, and postmodernism. This led to an era of prosperity for not only women artists but the wider Korean art community as a whole. As a result of sociopolitical shifts, Minjung feminism, therefore, turned its eyes from matters of class and labor to women’s issues. This required a new style to fit their new area of interest. In the 90s, Yun Suknam, an early member of the Women's Art Research Society (Yeoseong misul yeonguhoe), developed a unique style that overcame the limitations of the pre-existing socialist realist style. This new style served as a new visual language for feminism. She developed a style of painting that resembles reliefs, depicting women, in particular mother figures, on wooden planks and scrapwood. She collaborated with photographer Park Youngsook in expanding the themes of her work. From the mid-to-late 90s and onward, Yun began to make installation works that allude to the inner world of contemporary women, shifting her focus from motherhood and mother figures to daughter and herself, in an attempt to once again transform her themes and style. Park, who had worked on the theme of the oppression of women’s bodies, depicts sadomasochistic female imagery through her Mad Women Project in the late 90s. Through an approach to feminist issues at a psychoanalytic, semiotic level, she presents the aesthetic, political potential of feminist photography. At the same time, the second-generation Minjung artists who apply deconstructionist styles to socialist themes, such as Jo Kyoungsook, Seo Sookjin, and Ryu Junhwa, all raise the issue of gender identity, the reality of women’s lives, and multiple selves. They make tangible the issue of power in the context of gender, and thus they emerge as critical postmodernists. They borrow popular images such as advertisements and comic strips as a form of attack on high-brow art and modernism. In methodology as well, they use printers and copy machines to highlight the issue of communication. The oppression of women in contemporary systems of meaning is exposed by Seo Sookjin’s descriptive yet critical texts and images, Jo Kyoungsook’s autobiographical metaphors of women’s images as visualized through mass media, and Ryu Junhwa’s representation of objectified and commodified female bodies and the idea of femininity as established by society. In 1997, a feminist artist project group named Ipgim was formed by second-generation Minjung artists. It spurred the popularization of feminist art with their alternative programs focusing on life, recreation, practice, and communication. The project group was comprised of eight members in various fields, including painting (Jung Jungyeob, Ryu Junhwa, Ha Insun, and Woo Shinhee), design (Yoon Heesu), animation (Kwak Eunsook), multimedia (Kim Myungjin), and art direction (Je Miran). The members chose the name of the group with the intent of “thawing and giving life to frigid earth, hands, hearts, and a world with the warmth that emanates from a woman’s mouth.” Their primary goal would be the study and critique of women’s art and artists and the organization of women’s art as an alternative art group. One of the results of their research and organization was the A-Bang-Gung: Jongmyo Seized Project in 2000, which led to a lawsuit that as of 2003 is still ongoing. What was originally organized as an alternative art event challenging patriarchal authority and oppressive traditions was disrupted by the Jeonju Yi clan and other Confucian groups. The project was later revived in the form of a street performance held along with various women’s organizations, and it became an event that confirmed the necessity of creating a discourse on women’s art and solidarity between women’s organizations. Ipgim emphasizes femininity and the female mythos, and at the same time, it strategizes and politicizes them. As such, it represents a practical application of essentialist feminism. In that they subscribed to “real femininity” and promoted gynocentrism, separatism, and activism, they portray a pan-generational sensibility as opposed to a 90s feminist sensibility. Through on-site group works, they attempted to overcome contemporary elitist feminism by communicating with public. This means that they are therefore given legitimacy as a popular feminist group. Where second-generation Minjung feminism strengthened and expanded feminist aestheticism and politics, the Pyohyun group disbanded after the 21st members’ exhibition in 1992. Former members including Kim Myonghi, Yoon Hyojoon, and Noh Jungran now continue a 20-year legacy through solo work. Of these, Kim is known as an important figure among the 90s feminist figurative artists as a result of her neo-expressionistic oil stick paintings. Neo-expressionism emerged in the 80s and through the 90s became popularized as a mainstream genre of postmodernist figurative art. Associating more with content than form and autobiographical narratives than objective reality, it was preferred as a style by female artists in that it could express social, psychological, and physical experiences of women in such contexts. The correlation between neo-expressionism and feminine/feminist art can be found in the work of Cha Ouhi and Yeom Seongsoon, who anthropomorphize elements of the universe including wind and water and thus reveal a neo-expressionistic sensibility; Eom Jungsoon, who metaphorically depicts an organic botanical world through delicate fibrous drawings; Younhee Chung Paik, who visualizes dreams and fantasy worlds through a surrealistic imagination; and Yang Kwang-ja, who crafts her own unique images through a combination of abstract expressionism, the Minjung style, and neo-expressionism. The work of Kim Wonsook, who crafts allegories of basic emotions from her personal stories, and Kim Myonghi’s oil stick paintings represent prototypical styles of postmodernist figurative paintings. Kim Myonghi creates unique realist works as an “on-site observer and experiencer” who focuses on insignificant things and unnamed people. Simultaneously based on reality while also portraying a trans-factual, surrealistic, and poetic sensibility, her brand of realism can be defined as an “imaginative realism” that overlaps objective fact, personal experience of social truths, internal inspiration, and potential imagination. Based on a total of 15 years living abroad and educational experience traveling within non-Western countries, she has produced recent works that thematize “dislocation” as a result of diaspora, migration, and exile. These works convey a powerful message of feminism from a postcolonial perspective. Other feminist groups such as 30 Carat and Hyeongsang Misul of Busan also emerged, spurring the multifaceted multilateralization of women’s art in the 90s. Busan’s Hyeongsang Misul group, for instance, combines feminism with figurative art to explore possibilities for women’s styles. Representations of feminine eroticism are presented through humorous images by Kim Nanyoung in a way that demystifies sex, and plant-like and organic styles containing sexual subtext in Kim Chunja’s painting. In 1993, 30 Carat was formed by a group of women artists in their 30s, including Ha Minsu, Yum Jukyung, Ahn Mi-young, Park Jisook, Ha Sangrim, Kim Mikyoung, Choi Eunkyung, and Lim Mi Ryoung. Through joint exploration and continuous group exhibitions, the group sought to overcome the limitations of conventional women’s art, particularly as married women artists. Comparing themselves to expensive diamonds, they emphasized their role and significance as women artists in their 30s. Through their diverse styles and media experiments, ranging from abstract paintings to videos, they visualize femininity and women’s issues. Like the Pyohyun group, rather than thematizing and strategizing women and femininity, they harnessed these as subject matters, beginning from a narrow female perspective arising from their experiences as married women, therefore bearing the limitations of familial feminism. But they also sought to overcome the visual and conscious limitations of the previous generation by analyzing Minjung feminism and the activities of the Pyohyun group. The second member’s exhibition, Existence of Men: Wavering Classicism, reflects these efforts. Rather than representing the oppression of women as victims, here they turned the tables, objectifying men and raising the issue of masculinity, therefore exposing male chauvinism and gender biases. In feminist art, traditional crafts such as textiles, clothing, embroidery, sewing, and dyeing cannot simply be regarded in terms of media and subject matter. Rather, they embody a powerful political significance as visual metaphors of female lives that transcend time and space. Following the textile needlework of Pyohyun group’s Yoon Hyojoon, which incorporates the motif of pillow maguri, 30 Carat’s Yum Jukyoung depicted the sensibilities of traditional Korean women through textiles and dyeing. Ha Minsu replaces drawing by sewing on fabric. Since her time in Meta-Vox in the late 80s, Ha used fabric as a medium, but upon joining 30 Carat, she turned her interest from textiles as a simple media and came to regard textiles as a form of feminist art, working on feminist art that criticizes husbands, fathers, and patriarchal society. Beginning in the 90s, Kimsooja began creating visual works that comprised collages of textiles, transforming into the “Bottari (cloth bundle)” artist, harnessing Korean motifs as represented by bottari. She portrays the bottari as a symbol of nomadism, of travel and wandering, and thus brings light to the issue of identity. Hong Hyunsook harnesses worn clothes and textiles in the context of ecofeminism, and Kim Yousun employs mother-of-pearl inlay, often considered a ‘men’s craft’ that is used primarily by women, as a medium, creating minimalist objects that are gender-ambiguous in form and context. 3. A New Generation of Post-Modernist Feminists Feminist art in the 90s was above all driven by postmodernist artists with new sensibilities, who were the product of their time. In addition to feminists, a number of women artists who took an interest in the issues of otherness and gender from a postmodernist perspective were converted to feminism, which has led to a robust development and diversification of not only Korean feminist art but postmodernist art. Although these artists are apolitical and post-ideological in their concerns, they are producers and observers of contemporary postmodernist culture, responding keenly to contemporary reality and thus promoting a new form of feminist art. Whether they are feminist or not, the new generation of women artists have moved away from formalist interest, displaying a great questioning awareness and working from a socially critical perspective. They question the premises of Korean patriarchy, which has established an almost ubiquitous patriarchal discourse historically, and they bear in mind the cultural meanings of “gender” rather than “sex,” taking issue with the representation of women. Through a psychological and material approach to the body, they confront the politics of sex with the politics of the body and in so doing resume the feminist task that the previous generation of women’s art had set out to accomplish. As an effective means to deliver this critical message, they choose object, installation, and performance over traditional painting and sculpture, and they make use of mass media and moving images such as photographs, film, video, and computer graphic. As a result, they emerge as the de facto pillars of postmodernist art. This new generation of postmodernist women artists can be largely divided into three categories. The first group comprises established artists in their mid-to-late 30s, who continuously worked as part of small underground groups or as independent figures. As seen in the work of Lee Bul and Lee Hyeong Joo, who were members of the Museum group, and Park Hye Seong, who was a member of Off and On, the underground movement presented a pioneering example of postmodernist artists, who depicted the latest themes of gender, sexuality, body, grotesque, and homosexuality through new media such as performance, installation, and digital technology featuring a post-genre sensibility. Among these, Lee Bul was invited alongside Kimsooja to major international exhibitions, achieving recognition abroad. This caused a feedback effect on Korea, and they have become self-made success stories in that they have also achieved fame in Korea as well. Early in her career, Lee displayed potential and talent as a body artist and performance artist through her nude performance. Although performance as a genre is perhaps the most suited to accomplishing the aims of feminism, women artists in Korea have largely neglected the genre, and there has been a gap in this space ever since the mythic performance of Jung Kangja in the late 60s. Lee’s Abortion (1989), wherein she substituted the pain of abortion by suspending herself upside down in the nude, was a revival of the short tradition of Korean female performance art, and it provided a new genesis for feminist performance that embodied a powerful progressive message. Following her celebrated rotting fish installations that combined the concept of decay with a majestic aesthetic vision, she continues to expand the horizons of postmodernist feminist art through her recent series of ‘grotesque’ works depicting cyborgs and monsters. The second group comprises artists who returned to Korea in the mid-to-late 90s after studying abroad as well as progressive women artists who were quickly absorbing new information through direct and indirect overseas contacts. It is through this context that present-day women artists are expanding in quality and quantity. Through provocative installations and videos, Chang Younghae thematizes suppressed sexuality. Yoo Hyunmi and Yeesookyung approach gender issues at a conceptual level, practicing feminism through a nondeclarative appeal. Chung Seoyoung, Chung Zuyoung, Lee Mi Kyung, Kim Joo Hyun, Lee Somi, Kim Sora, Hong Su-ja, and Nayoungim aestheticize the issue of communication with a novel post-genre sensibility on a foundation of purity and intellect. A uniquely feminine sensibility and intellect is being expressed by artists such as Ham Kyungah, Kim Jihyun, Shin Hyekyung, Park Hwayoung, and Jo Gyehyeong, who work with photography and video, as well as Hwang Hae Sun, Kim Yousun, and Ahn Sung Hee, who explore new subject matter and media such as textile, mother-of-pearl inlay, and sticker. Oh Kyung-hwa, a video artist, focuses on filmic narrative, creating works that incorporate the reality of the social and psychological experiences of women. Yu Hyeonjeong uses interactive technology to bring women of the past face to face with the oppressive reality that defined their existence. The third group is comprised of the so-called “emerging artists,” individuals in their late 20s to early-to-mid 30s. They possess a different sensibility when compared to the previous generation, commercializing and branding not only their work but also themselves. Drawing upon their prominent organizational skills and initiative, they look towards establishment and stardom. IUM approaches recreational and fashion joie de vivre through performances and object installations, and she narcissistically, conventionally approaches feminism through video work. Cho Helen uses artificial leather and photograph to express the sadomasochistic sexual psyche of a pubescent girl. Kim Heekyung, Kim Sejin, Ham Yang Ah, Rhii Jewyo, Jung Yun-Mi, Choi So-yeon, Jang Min-Jung, and Mira Park visualize issues of the new generation through various media and their own unique ideas. Furthermore, at the start of the 21st century, overseas-based or diaspora artists such as Nikki S. Lee and Sowon Kwon have been introduced to the domestic art scene, and imbued a new energy to the Korean art community. Beginning her career as a fashion photographer, Lee debuted as an artist by choosing to photograph herself rather than models. For her photo projects, she inserts herself into and identifies with marginalized groups such as Latinos, punks, yuppies, and lesbians. She also poses in front of the camera, at times as a lonely traveler, an obese elderly woman, an office worker, and a stripper. Through her documentary snapshots of her journey of transformation and wandering, she tracks a multifaceted identity or a third self that transcends the barriers of race and culture. Kwon analyzes the living spaces of women and their relation to furniture from a gender structural perspective using diverse media that includes blueprint drawings and computer animation. Like clothing, furniture represents the preferences, lifestyles, and social status of its user, the choice of which carries a cultural meaning beyond use value. The interior is not only a physical space but also a cultural space. On top of that, it is a psychological space for women who dream of “a room of one’s[their] own.” From this perspective, Kwon examines the ideology of a patriarchal family structure that separates spheres of private and public, or inside and outside; the gender meanings of the interior, which constructs and reflects feminine fantasies; femininity and decorativeness, and their relation to modernism.

Korea Artist Prize

The Korea Artist Prize is an annual award program jointly operated by the National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, Korea (MMCA) and the SBS Culture Foundation. It aims to globalize Korean art by selecting and supporting talented artists in South Korea. Following from the Artist of the Year exhibitions held at the MMCA from 1995 through 2010, the Korea Artist Prize that began in 2012 selects one final artist (or team) through the first and second rounds of judging under the auspices of the SBS Culture Foundation. Four artists (teams) selected as “SBS Culture Foundation Sponsored Artists” in the first round of screening use the endowed grant to present their new works at the Korea Artist Prize exhibition held at the MMCA in Seoul. In the second round, one artist (team) is selected from these four artists (teams) and awarded the Korea Artist Prize to help him/her (them) develop into an international artist who can lead the world of art. Awardees include the team of Moon Kyoungwon and Jeon Joonho in 2012, Kong Sunghun in 2013, Noh Suntag in 2014, and Oh Inhwan in 2015. In addition to discovering and supporting artists, the Korea Artist Prize produced and aired documentary films exploring oeuvres of all sponsored artists in depth, thus contributing to building a foundation for Korean contemporary art.

Seoul Print Art Fair

The Seoul Print Art Fair was an international art fair held ten times from 1995 to 2004 by the Korean Print Art Promotion Association [Hanguk panhwa misul jinheunghoe]. Founded in 1995, the Korean Print Art Promotion Association hosted the fair in an effort to revitalize Korean print art and establish a competitive sample market for building a global print distribution network. The launching of the fair was made possible by dedicated efforts of the printmaker Kim Sangku, and it was modeled after the French print fair SAGA. Fifty-seven domestic and overseas galleries, workshops, and related enterprises participated in the first Seoul Print Art Fair held in 1995. At the first edition held at Seoul Arts Center, many galleries exhibited high-quality works. Through a special exhibition, showcasing selected fifty-four artists under the age of forty, the fair also achieved success in supporting young printmakers. Since 1996, the Korea Print Art Promotion Association has been responsible for discovering and nurturing newcomers through the "Belt" system, and these emerging artists debuted at the following year's "Seoul Print Art Festival." Consequently, the art festival has also taken on the role of discovering and fostering new talent in the Korean printmaking community. For ten years, the Seoul Print Art Fair played a leading role in enhancing the popularity of prints and offering a chance for international cultural exchanges by encouraging printmakers and arranging encounters with the public. It also strove to expand the concept of prints by displaying mixed media works utilizing printmaking techniques and encompassing a variety of works that reflected the main theme of the exhibition, besides prints. In 2005, it was renamed the Seoul International Print, Photo & Edition Works Art Fair to include various editioned works, such as photographs.

Art Sonje Center

A private art museum that opened in 1995 in Sogyeok-dong, Jongno-gu, Seoul. Before the construction of the exhibition hall, the museum held its first exhibition, Ssack, at an old hanok yard. In 1998, Art Center Sonje established a transdisciplinary venue, equipped with an exhibition hall, lounge, and theater. Art Sonje has staged significant solo exhibitions for Lee Bul, Oh Heinkuhn, Joo Jaehwan, Suh Doho, Lim Minouk, Chung Seoyoung, Oh Inhwan, Bahc Yiso, and Koo Jeong-a. From 2012 to the present day, the center has held the Real DMZ Project on an annual basis. The project involves exhibitions, residencies, seminars, and archival work based on research on the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) of the Korean Peninsula and the neighboring regions.

Bahc Yiso

Bahc Yiso (Bahc Mo, 1957-2004) was a conceptual artist who played a crucial role in leading postmodernist discourse in Korean art in the 1990s. After studying Western painting in the College of Fine arts at Hongik University, Bahc enrolled in the Painting Department of the Pratt Institute Graduate School in the U.S. in 1982 and graduated from there in 1985. He used the name “Bahc Mo” in the U.S., and as a theorist, critic, and translator, he introduced contemporaneous art theories to the Korean art community. From 1985 through 1989, he ran Minor Injury, an alternative space in Brooklyn defying the mainstream art world and organized group exhibitions to promote Korean art abroad, including Minjung Art: New Cultural Movement of Korea (1988) and Across the Pacific: Contemporary Korean and Korean American Art (1993–1994). He returned to South Korea in 1995 and began using the name “Bahc Yiso” since 1998. He also strove to introduce alternative models of art education as an educator. In 2002, he became the winner of the third Hermés Foundation Missulsang, and in 2003 he participated in the 50th Venice Biennale as the representative artist of the Korean Pavilion. In 2004, he died suddenly of a heart attack. His major works include Exotic, Minority, Oriental (1990), UN Tower (1997), and We Are Happy (2004). Bahc received the Arts Council Korea’s Art of the Year Award in 2006. In the same year, an exhibition entitled Divine Comedy: A Retrospective of Bahc Yiso was held. Another exhibition Bahc Yiso: Lines of Flight was held in 2011. Bahc Yiso: Memos and Memories, a large-scale retrospective exhibition held in 2018 at the MMCA brought him to public attention.

Gwangju Biennale

An international contemporary art exhibition held every two years. The biennale is the first of its kind in Asia. The theme of the first Gwangju Biennale in 1995 was Beyond the Borders, and the theme of the most recent twelveth Gwangju Biennale was Imagined Borders. Each biennale hosts exhibitions and events based on themes that reflect the global diversity of socio-cultural realities and progressive values around the world.