Faint Symbols: Abstract Landscapes Infused with Representation

Kim Young-jun (Curator of Busan Museum of Contemporary Art)

The pleasure of viewing a painting is akin to the awe one experiences when encountering the wonders of nature. Just because art began as a form of imitation of nature does not imply that a remarkable artwork should be dismissed as mere ‘imitation.’ Even the most exceptional works of art, though undeniably human creations, are always products of human manipulation. Hence, comparing nature and art in an absolute sense, without context or nuance, is meaningless. However, it is essential to pay attention to the concept of ‘imitation’ in art, as it may serve not as an immoral ‘accusation’ but as a useful and important ‘clue’ for understanding and evaluating a piece of work.

In antiquity, both Plato and Aristotle referred to the imitation of nature as mimesis. Over time, art has rationalized ‘representation’ through the discourse of mimesis. This effect has even been sublimated into various metaphors in literature. Similes and metaphors are equally effective in visual art. Anyone has likely experienced the illusion of seeing a stain on wallpaper that resembles something else. This optical effect has long intrigued artists. On a broader scale, one could argue that all works of art are, in essence, metaphorical. After all, we do not refer to a portrait of our grandfather as “a stain that looks like grandfather.“

These thoughts crossed my mind when viewing the recent works of the artist Bae Ji-min. Initially, her works were distinguished by bold brushstrokes that evoked dynamic energy and motion. However, something new has been added to her more recent works. There now appears to be a proliferation of symbols requiring interpretation. Due to the habitual focus on ‘representation,’ the use of similes now seems to carry a more significant impact. In other words, the representational symbols within her works elicit a response akin to recognizing a familiar shape within a wallpaper stain.

Jimin Bae is a traditional Korean painter. While she retains the fundamental materials and techniques inherent in Korean painting, she has subtly shifted her approach by incorporating a broader array of subjects and methods. Elements like dynamic brushstrokes and a sense of speed remain integral to her style. She experiments with numerous colors and incorporates materials such as cellulose. The interplay between ink lines, color, light and shadow, representation, and abstraction is interwoven, embracing one another. The representation of objects is intentionally deconstructed, leaving only minimal symbols that may be interpreted.

Ironically, this effect bears resemblance to the approach of Impressionism. If the linework does not adhere to traditional outlines and if pointillist techniques, the subtle gradations of ink, and the play of light and dark are interpreted as symbolic gestures, this is not unexpected. Moreover, the limitations imposed by the size of the Korean paper(Hanji) fail to accommodate the artist’s desire to express her full conceptual scope. Much like the fragmented nature of Baroque paintings, she seems to insist that the viewer focus on a specific fragment of an event. Perhaps this explains why she does not create the traditional ’emptiness’ typical of Korean painting, instead filling the canvas entirely with ink and color.

Thus, Jimin Bae’s landscapes have transformed into works that merge traces of representation with the immersion of abstraction, framed within the context of a painting. Traditional Korean painting was never originally intended as an object of passive contemplation. It was more a tool for the reflection of scholars, gaining significance in this role before being recognized as ‘art.’ Over time, it has become an object to be viewed, read, and reacted to, yet now, in an age where reflection can occur anywhere and anytime, Bae Ji-min’s works do not reflect Confucian scholarly contemplation, but rather offer a contemplative space that internalizes the lives of modern individuals. This effect was something I encountered during her most recent solo exhibition.

The exhibition title fläks + flʌks is unusual. It appears to be a play on the phonetic symbols of “Phlox” and “Flux,” both of which can be pronounced similarly as “flocks.” Phlox can have various meanings, but it is likely that the artist was inspired by the flame-like red flowers. Of course, she does not directly depict these flowers in her paintings. Flux, however, refers to flow—a concept involving an object, the preconditions of direction and speed, and possibly an unseen driving force. The artist seems to be combining two words that sound alike but possess distinct meanings, using this wordplay to express her stance on her own work. It is said that Phlox symbolizes passion and youth, sentiments that are clearly conveyed through the Korean word for ‘flame.‘

Flux, derived from ‘flow,’ internalizes her actions. When a brush soaked in ink moves across Hanji at a certain speed, the ink seeps into the middle layers of the paper, revealing moments of light and dark, speed, time, and force all at once. The few layers of Hanji paper merely mediate the final creation. She gradually peels back layers of ink and color, repeating this process. The paper on which the optimal effects of her desire emerge serves as the ultimate place where all effects settle. The ink, color, and cellulose permeate the surface of the paper, creating overlapping layers of depth, while the horizontal movement of symbols and the vertical layering of light and dark build the overall structure.As the name Phlox suggests, the artist projects her memories and desires onto the symbolism of the flower. The sentiment of youth, passion, and urban life emerges as faint and abstract images on the canvas. The symbols pointing to the representational subject within the artwork generate a metaphorical effect, much like seeing something that “resembles a cityscape” or “evokes some landscape” within the ink and color stains. However, like a hidden picture, there is no need to search for something specific. The accumulation of the artist’s actions, over time, is enough. Furthermore, there is no need to place any preconditions on viewing it as ‘Korean painting.’ Whether one classifies it as abstraction or representation is irrelevant. Even if it is simply a stain, if we regard it as the manifestation of the artist’s desire and the emotion imbued within the painting, it will emerge as a meaningful trace.