Their Own Perspective
Ko Yeonsoo (art critic)
Newness: A Way of Seeing, Not an Object
Seeing an object before us means perceiving the light it emits and understanding its relationship with its surroundings, allowing us to reflect our experiences and recognize both the object and the situation. What appears beautiful is not because we have discovered beauty in an object but because we perceive it from a beautiful perspective. We live by attributing beauty to objects, expressing them in our own language, communicating, and empathizing. The universal sentiment that nature is beautiful stems from the harmonious order of its ecology, devoid of anything superfluous, providing comfort and serenity. However, nature becomes truly beautiful only when perceived by human eyes-beauty exists because there is an observer.
When we encounter artworks created by artists who perceive the world with extraordinary and unique sensitivity, we can uncover values beyond conventional perception. Our brain, which normally functions in an orderly and compartmentalized manner when making judgments or taking action, operates in a simultaneous, interwoven manner when facing art. This process stirs emotions that are difficult to verbalize-a thrill, a deep emotional stir. Art can unexpectedly immerse us in rapture, sink us into a profound abyss, or confront us with rare emotions such as sorrowful lamentation, distinct from everyday experiences. The work of original and creative artists stimulates the audience with multifaceted and three-dimensional experiences, encouraging mutual empathy. The process of receiving the artist's perspective through their work, aligning our own experiences with their wavelength-this is the fascinating communicative trajectory of art.
"What makes a genius, or what inspires genius, is not a new idea,
but the thought that what has been said has not been said enough."
- Eugène Delacroix -
The avant-garde nature of an artist is often deemed essential, yet newness itself is not the goal. Every act of creation, emerging from the artist's unique thinking and resulting in their work, is inherently new. What matters is not what is expressed but how it is expressed. The artist translates their perception of an object into their work, and we, in turn, discover and internalize their mode of communication. This is why landscape paintings-though appearing similar in their calm and gentle depictions of nature-resonate with us in unexpectedly diverse and rich ways. The deeply rooted position of landscape painting in visual art, with its boundless potential for the future, attests to its inexhaustible vitality.
Discomfort: Perspective Without a Vanishing Point
Artist Lee Hyun-Ho's work, rendered in color on hanji (Korean paper), lacks the traditional aesthetic of empty space, a distinctive trait of Korean painting. His landscapes boldly omit the sweeping grandeur and tranquil embellishments that typically define traditional landscape paintings. Instead, his densely packed compositions of mountains and trees appear cramped, awkwardly positioned from certain angles. The artist deliberately rejected the conventional, well-composed structures of traditional East Asian painting, seeing them as formulaic and unconvincing. Oil paintings on canvas, with their stable composition and calculated perspective, provide an immediate, singular moment of clarity and impact. In contrast, ink paintings on hanji allow the viewer's gaze to flow organically, offering a sense of immersive transcendence. Although contemporary artistic practices have blurred these distinctions, the unique allure of each medium remains relevant.
In his earlier works, Lee Hyun-Ho depicted nature as a distanced aesthetic subject. Now, his approach has shifted-he immerses himself in nature, seeking to recreate its experiential essence. The change in his perspective, from observation to direct engagement, paradoxically aligns more with traditional Korean painting. His densely packed mountains and trees, cut arbitrarily at the edges, leave no room for empty space, yet paradoxically invite the viewer to imagine what lies beyond. In a world fraught with turmoil and urgency, where distressing news prevails, Lee Hyun-Ho contemplates the serenity and resilience of nature through his tightly composed landscapes, probing the psychological and visual tensions they evoke.
The method of representation in visual art has long been formalized to accurately and convincingly portray the world. In painting, the traditional hierarchy of subject and background requires careful composition, achieved most effectively through perspective. However, artist Jung Kwang-Do challenges this structure, questioning the distinction between primary subjects and their surroundings.
From his early still-life paintings to his recent works, Jung has focused on redefining perspective. His paintings feature multiple focal points-scenes of varying angles and viewpoints layered together. This approach reflects the diverse priorities and conflicts present in our world. Each person holds their own center of gravity, yet harmonious coexistence remains an elusive ideal. Through his compositions, Jung Gwang-Do reconstructs the discomfort of conflicting viewpoints, countering the conventional vanishing point. His paintings, despite their potential for visual chaos, achieve a sense of completion within a single frame. By juxtaposing disparate perspectives, he meticulously calculates their dynamic interplay-his own unique approach to perspective. Ultimately, his work suggests that the viewer's position and moment in time define the conclusion of a scene, embedding the very physics of perspective into his artistic methodology.
The Flattened Landscape of These Artists
Throughout history, artists have reinterpreted vast and beautiful landscapes with extraordinary insight, composing dramatic vanishing points that intensify the natural tranquility of scenery into overwhelming emotional experiences. Such works have long been displayed before us, allowing us to indulge in their beauty. However, the landscapes created by Lee Hyun-Ho and Jung Gwang-Do in this exhibition present a different kind of scenery. They depict what they saw, what they sought to see, and-despite nature being a subject that has been endlessly represented in countless ways-they affirm their own unique perspectives.
Even in an era oversaturated with artistic interpretations of the visible world, even in response to Jackson Pollock's frenzied lament that Picasso had already exhausted all possibilities, art continues to evolve, astonishing humanity with its perpetual reinvention. Even in this very moment, when it seems that art has reached its final frontier, unforeseen innovations are bound to emerge. Though Lee Hyun-Ho and Jung Gwang-Do's landscapes depict isolated, desolate edges of the world, paradoxically, these very edges serve as thresholds to new dimensions-a beginning rather than an end. Their distinct perspectives on landscape painting challenge us to discover what remains "unsaid enough" within them. It is our task to uncover the thirst and beauty embedded in their works.