NAM JONGHYUN : KKOKDU: SEOUL

 

Hong Eunmi (Cultural Heritage Specialist, Chungcheongnam-do)

 

Photographer Nam Jong-hyun explores Korea's identity and history not through grand narratives but by tracing his own roots. His journey begins with observing objects that have silently endured the passage of time. Originally recognized as an advertising photographer, Nam expanded his artistic scope with his first project, Mulsang (Objects). He has a unique ability to infuse mechanical and objective photography with his own sensibility, revealing a quiet, mysterious beauty.

Among the many artifacts he captures, Nam is particularly drawn to objects from the Joseon Dynasty. He is fascinated by their unembellished natural beauty and their simple yet graceful forms. His work embodies a sense of emptiness, tranquility, and restraint-an aesthetic that naturally emerges from his process. By delving into the essence of objects that have withstood time, Nam presents us with more than just photographs; he offers a window into history, carefully preserving and reinterpreting cultural memory. His images, more than mere documentation, serve as meditative compositions that invite us to reflect on how traditional aesthetics can be reimagined in the present.

 

 

Lately, Nam has turned his attention to kkokdu-the small wooden figurines traditionally used in Korean funeral rituals. Kkokdu are brightly painted dolls, sometimes human, sometimes animal, typically made of wood or clay. Historically, the term kkokdugaksi referred to puppets used in traditional plays, and over time, the name kkokdu came to refer specifically to funeral bier decorations.

The kkokdu that Nam captures are precisely these funerary figures-wooden companions placed on funeral biers to accompany the deceased on their journey to the afterlife.

Also known as mokwu (wooden effigies) or tou (clay figurines), kkokdu were believed to exist between the realms of the living and the dead. Though resembling humans, they were not merely decorative; they carried symbolic meaning, acting as guardians and guides for the departed.

The earliest known kkokdu date back to the Silla and Gaya periods, where they were buried alongside the deceased to ward off evil spirits. Over time, these figures evolved into elaborate funeral adornments, featuring not only human forms but also sacred animals such as horses, oxen, tigers, phoenixes, and dragons. Flowers like lotus blossoms and plum blossoms also frequently appeared in these designs.

Kkokdu served distinct roles: some acted as guides (jikbusaja), leading the deceased to the afterlife; others were protectors (suho kkokdu), warding off evil; and still others, entertainers (jaein kkokdu), bringing comfort to the mourners. These figures reflected the wishes of the living for the departed to find peace and happiness beyond death. They stood as intermediaries between worlds, embodying humanity's universal longing for renewal and rebirth.

The quality and complexity of kkokdu carvings varied depending on social class and wealth. However, Nam moves beyond these distinctions. Instead, he rearranges and reinterprets their forms, creating striking new compositions. A phoenix's wings, a paradise bird's body-rather than showing them in their entirety, he distills their essence into unique, dreamlike images. By tilting the wings diagonally, for example, he creates a sense of flight, as if the birds are soaring toward another realm. His work captures not only the original meaning of these objects but also the emotional weight they carry.

Nam's kkokdu do more than depict the past; they tell the stories of those left behind. His images convey the mourners' desire to ease the loneliness of the departed, to ensure their journey is not one of sorrow but of companionship.

 

Death brings fear, not only to the dying but also to those left behind. In East Asian cultures, where death was often considered a taboo subject, Koreans found comfort in kkokdu-tiny wooden figures meant to protect and guide the soul's journey.

But perhaps this perception of death as purely tragic is a modern misunderstanding. In traditional Korean funerals, mourning and remembrance coexisted with laughter and communal gatherings. Death, in this cultural context, was not just an ending but a transition-both a tragedy and a celebration. Poet Cheon Sang-byeong famously called death gwichun (returning to heaven), emphasizing not loss, but the inevitable return home. Unlike the Western memento mori tradition, which serves as a reminder of life's impermanence, Korean philosophy embraces the idea that all meetings must eventually part, and all departures must eventually return. Perhaps it is time to reconsider our modern attitudes toward death.

Nam challenges conventional perceptions of kkokdu, reimagining them as "Korean angels." In Western art, angels are divine messengers of sacred annunciations. In contrast, the kkokdu in Nam's work are neither celestial beings nor solemn figures; they are warm, familiar companions-guides who ease the transition between life and death. Despite the grief that surrounds them, their expressions are serene, even reassuring. They do not exist to inspire fear but to offer solace.

These two interpretations of angels-one from the East, one from the West-ultimately serve the same purpose: to mediate between this world and the next.

Nam's work transcends documentation, creating a visual and cultural dialogue that invites us to engage with tradition in new ways. His compositions challenge us to look beyond mere representation, allowing the viewer to connect with these timeworn objects on a deeper level.

 

 

Nam's exploration of kkokdu has not only expanded his artistic practice but has also strengthened his connection to Korean cultural heritage. His meticulous study of traditional imagery and aesthetics is more than an act of preservation-it is a reawakening.

A crucial element of Nam's work is his choice of medium: hanji, traditional Korean paper. Printing his photographs on hanji enhances their ethereal quality, merging old and new in a way that feels both contemporary and timeless. The soft, organic texture of hanji adds a tactile dimension to his images, making them feel like echoes of history captured in the present. This technique is central to Nam's artistic philosophy-his photographs do not merely document tradition; they embody it.

 

 

Every artist seeks beauty, and Nam Jong-hyun is no exception. Through his lens, he continues to explore the essence of objects that hold the memories of time-revealing the quiet, enduring beauty of tradition.

Art critic John Ruskin once said,
"Few can achieve, but all can enjoy."

Now, it is our turn. As we gaze upon Nam's photographs, we are invited to step into the world he has discovered-to immerse ourselves in the past, to see through his eyes, and to experience the beauty that he has so carefully preserved.