Useful Art
Ko Yeonsoo (art critic)
"Art... well.
A cup should be something you can pour water into and drink from. I don't think a cup, as an artwork, is what my work is about.
I believe that will remain the same for me.
I want to keep seeing people enjoy using my work."
A cup should be something you can pour water into and drink from. I don't think a cup, as an artwork, is what my work is about.
I believe that will remain the same for me.
I want to keep seeing people enjoy using my work."
Before every interview with an artist, I develop the broadest and richest possible imagination of what art could be. I expect artistic values to emerge through our conversation. This time, too, I approached the interview with artist Sangjin Lee full of anticipation, but he laid out the fundamental direction of his work and his perspective on visual art in a remarkably clear and structured manner-like a true designer.
Typically, interviews with artists feel like a rhizomatic process-expanding, branching out, getting tangled, and eventually finding a way back to some conclusion. But Sangjin Lee tidied up all the possible loose ends from the start. Of course, when he mentioned the word "cup," my mind instinctively leaped to Méret Oppenheim's Object (Fur-covered Cup, Saucer, and Spoon), as well as the clean, minimal designs of IKEA cups. I let my thoughts wander between these two contrasting images and found myself smiling inwardly. Still, I soon realized my train of thought was actually quite aligned with the direction of his work.
Light-infused Humor, with Connection at the Core
Around the year 2000, when Sangjin Lee first became fascinated with artificial lighting and began using light as a key element in his work, he didn't choose sleek and modern industrial materials favored by most designers. Instead, he focused on everyday objects-things whose shapes were determined by their function in daily life. From these familiar items, he extracted extraordinary ideas.
Three primary-colored fly swatters are carefully arranged to form a lamp. Zippers, mass-produced for easy opening and closing, are linked together to bloom into a luminous flower. A stove pipe is gracefully bent into a modern chandelier, while disposable straws, plastic plates, and cups are stacked and layered to create sophisticated lighting designs.
At first glance, his works appear luxurious, but upon closer inspection, the realization that they are composed of ordinary, inexpensive household items often triggers an amused reaction. As he described, it's similar to the moment of surprise when you notice a spoon being used as a lock on a door and suddenly recall its original function-a brief but striking sense of unfamiliarity.
From an evolutionary psychology perspective, laughter often stems from feelings of relief in situations initially perceived as threatening but later recognized as harmless. It can also arise when we feel superior to others or when we encounter an unexpected reversal that disrupts our logical expectations. Sangjin Lee's humor in art operates similarly-by relocating objects from their original functional settings into unfamiliar contexts (Dépaysement), he creates moments of psychological tension and release.
More importantly, he positions light at the heart of these seemingly misplaced objects, elevating ordinary items to the status of art.
His chandeliers-clusters of geometrically arranged plastic baskets-stand tall as monumental sculptures, their intricate layering diffusing light into mesmerizing illusions. His massive, organic light pillars connect floors and ceilings with dynamic, sinuous lines. What appears at first to be a solid, grand installation is, upon closer examination, nothing more than plastic colanders woven together.
This interplay of seriousness and playfulness, grandeur and wit makes his work especially compelling. The larger the scale, the more humorous the transformation appears-a paradox that defines his artistic style.
Art as an Act of Engagement
One of his most significant works, Keep (2008), consisted of overlapping barbed wire enclosures infused with light. Interestingly, the barbed wire was not originally intended as part of the artwork-it was merely a stand to hold another sculpture. However, he soon realized that viewers were more captivated by the barbed wire than the object it supported, prompting him to shift his focus.
This moment captures the essence of his artistic philosophy: A reversal between the artwork and the objects meant to support it. He continuously explores the transformation of everyday objects into art-placing light at the center of his works while making the audience's engagement and usage the core of his artistic practice.
His works like Bookmark and Bookrest evoke warmth and relaxation, while Swing Light and Cabletiepot contain humor born from unexpected juxtapositions. His keen observation of human emotions and behavior is evident in Keep. Ultimately, his goal seems to be fostering communication and interaction through his art. By using diverse and approachable light-based forms-sometimes sweet, sometimes sophisticated, sometimes fantastical-his works engage with us in an inviting conversation.
More than anything, he wants people to use his work freely-in unexpected and personal ways. Watching how people use his creations continues to inspire him. This is his unique way of interacting with the audience, and it reveals his deep interest in human behavior and response. The true essence of his work lies not just in the objects themselves, but in how people react to and interact with them.
The Utility of Art, Elevated Communication
Great works of art can expand our perception, stimulate our intellect, and evoke awe, but they can also create a sense of intimidation-an overwhelming reverence that can sometimes distance the audience. Too often, art is burdened with the expectation that it must convey deep philosophical messages, leading to a performative seriousness that feels forced.
Yet, avant-garde art has always been inherently challenging. The exhaustion of distinguishing authentic artistic depth from mere pretentiousness is part of engaging with contemporary art. However, when we encounter true art, the transformative experience is profound, making all the effort worthwhile.
Artists like Olafur Eliasson create immersive, artificial light environments that evoke countless personal emotions and memories. Dan Flavin reconfigures mass-produced fluorescent lights into ethereal illusions, reinterpreting space while prompting audiences to reconsider reality itself. These artists use light as a medium for soft yet powerful communication, exploring themes of existence, perception, and transcendence.
Art often straddles a precarious boundary-it can either hold profound meaning or risk becoming the most beautiful form of waste. Yet, history has consistently proven its immeasurable power-not through financial metrics but through its ability to profoundly impact human emotions and consciousness.
The true utility of art, then, depends on how we engage with it. Whether we find sublime beauty in its immaterial form, enjoy its playful subversion of expectations, or simply use it to create comfort and convenience, Sangjin Lee's work gives us the freedom to engage on our own terms.
As a creator working with light, he has the potential to not only illuminate spaces but also stir emotions and behaviors. And as he remains focused on how people interact with his works, his art will continue evolving in unexpected and meaningful ways. His art exists to be used-and in that interaction, the conversation continues.