[1]
Lee Jai-Kyung’s works are often described by Korean Art Critics as belonging to the category of ‘Color Field Painting’. It is also not unusual for Korean art critics to go on to compare her works of painting to some Western Master painters of color field painting such as Rothko, Barnett Newman or Korea monochrome color painters like Park Seo-bo and some others. The ascription of ‘color-field’ painting to Lee Jai-Kyung’s works of the recent decade is not, prima facie, incorrect, if it simply refers to the fact that her recent works are characterized by large fields of solid, flat color, spread across the canvas, establishing areas of continuous surface and flat picture plane. It is, however, an altogether different matter, as soon as her works are compared to some Western color field painters like Rothko or Newman or whoever else from within the stylistic traditions of the Western modernist painting. It is then to place Lee Jai-Kyung’s works within the history of Western modernist painting, and that is to make a serious mistake. It’d be totally unfair to Lee Jai-Kyung, the artist, for her works were created completely outside the tradition and discourse field of Western modernist painting, independently of what the Western Masters had done. Hers belong to a totally different art world from the ones set up in the so-called International Centers of Modern Art such as Paris, NewYork Chelsea or SoHo, London or Berlin. The art-historical and/or aesthetical valuation from within the conceptual discourse-fields of the Western Art World would be totally irrelevant to the appreciation of her works. This is so, because her artistic and aesthetic allegiance is totally to the traditional art-practices of East Asia. And, as indeed Francois Jullien has shown so brilliantly in his exquisite book, THE IMPOSSIBLE NUDE: CHINESE ART AND WESTERN AESTHETICS, the conceptual-linguistic plays that determines the categories in shaping the possibilities in the domain of this particular human action called ‘art’in China and the West were totally different, yet equally ennobling and convincing for themselves in their own independent spheres of understanding of ‘art’.
It’d be much easier to write about her recent works, if they were color field paintings just in the same sense of term that is applicable to the above-mentioned Western color field painters; for, then, philosophically underpinning her works would be the same historical logic of the modernist evolution in Western History of Modern Art, culminating in those very ‘color field’painting. Since I have been vociferous in the previous paragraph on the radically different genealogy of Lee Jai-Kyung’s “color-field”paintings, in spite of the superficial similarity between her and Western color field paintings; it is now incumbent upon me to explain how she arrived at her version of ‘color field’ painting through what art-historical or art-philosophical paths. Let me explain:
[2]
What must be taken notice of first about this Artist is that she is schooled in the traditional Oriental ways of painting, working with inherited Oriental painters’ tools like the brush, ink and paper, all uniquely East Asian, continued on from several millennia ago, under Oriental philosophical vision of ‘art’ which is quite differently articulated from what is properly Western ways of doing art or ‘art-ing’(A new coinage for ‘doing art’ as a specie of social act in just the same way ‘speaking’ as a speech act is a specie of social act). (Foot Note: Finally, now, we have a lucid articulation of that difference, thanks to the brilliant scholarly works of comparative studies between Eastern and Western philosophical thinking by Francois Jullien of France, as we had an occasion to allude to his writings above.) While it might unthinkable in the West, it is usual, in the three East Asian countries of Korea, Japan and China, to offer two very different, and often mutually antagonistic and incommensurable, curricula in Art Schools: an art student declares either as a student of Oriental Art or Western Art. From then, they study and then work as either ‘Oriental’ Artist or ‘Western’ Artist. There are, in other words, two different art worlds, so to speak.
Being an ‘Oriental’ Painter, the brush work is one of the most essential ingredient in achieving the unique kind of Oriental (East Asian) Aesthetics of Immanence in which the over-all force-field of a particular kind that the artist configure on rice paper is all important. The efficacy of the constructed force field on Paper is entirely dependent upon the artist’s brush strokes, each of which carries, literally carries, the artist’s uniquely personal chi-energy-force line. To put down a brush stroke is not to draw a line, but it is to inscribe an actual movement of chi-energy force field with a real potential for real efficacy. Here, already, there’s a difference between Lee Jai-Kyung’s mode of working on her painting and the Western color field painters. One of the distinguishing marks of the Western movement of color field painters is that they place less emphasis on gesture, brush strokes and action in favor of an overall consistency of form and process. In contrast, in Lee Jai-Kyung’s case, it is the quality of brush stroke that is all important; it is with brush works that she creates the allover sense of the color field from end to end, top to bottom. It is necessary to expand on this point, as it is the key to understanding this artist’s having gone much beyond the Western color field painters, even while her works appear very much alike to the naïve eyes. Then, too, in Oriental Painting, there’s much more than what merely falls within the field of vision of an on-looker; instead, they try to make what is invisible (to the eyes) efficacious so that the on-looker can experience in some other ways than through the eyes. Yes, this requires a further explanation and I propose to do so in the following next few paragraphs. For that purpose, I’d like to begin with what Jules Olitski, purportedly the exemplary color field painter in Clement Greenberg’s estimation:
“ I don't know what Color Field painting means. I think it was probably invented by some critic, which is okay, but I don't think the phrase means anything. Color Field painting? I mean, what is color? Painting has to do with a lot of things. Color is among the things it has to do with. It has to do with surface. It has to do with shape, It has to do with feelings which are more difficult to get at.”
Here, Olitski refers to something crucially important to Lee Jai-Kyung’s works –namely, ‘feelings’to respond to in a work of painting, whereas it is this same thing which Western color field paintings failed to address. Wherein is laid the difference? If we can answer this question, then we’re in business. Let us then ask again: What is this feeling? How does one get this feeling by looking at this painting of this color-field? I suggest that in the case of color-field painting the on-looker would not get this feeling as a result of seeing this particular color solidly all over the canvas. Because ‘seeing’occurs only after the interpretation of the incoming visual data in the form of wave packet have been made. To that extent, feeling is not the result of first having had a specific visual experience. Instead, feeling is something you intuit by letting the source of feeling (in this case, a work of color-field painting, for instance) to affect you in a certain specific way. How does something that is, prima facie, visible, and meant to be visible in the first place, affects the on-looking people with invisible feelings with means other than visual? In somewhat following way:
Color is simply a form of visible light, of electromagnetic energy as a packet of waves of some specific wave length and frequency. When these wave packets impinge on the nerve cells of our retina, they have real, tangible material impact on the on-lookers. There’s, however, something else going on, besides the impinging and impacting electromagnetic wave packets. For example, when Lee Jai-Kyeong works on her painting, applying color inks, derived from various Korean indigenous plants and flowers, onto the specially made traditional Korean rice paper of different thickness and absorption; it is the ink-brush strokes with which she applies her chosen color-ink onto the surface that matters most in the final outcome of her work of art. The key term here is the brush stroke. It is the force and dexterity of each of her brush stroke that matters most in her Art. It is no different from an Oriental Martial Artist’s movement with her or his wooden swords, cutting into the air with just right force and directionality and dexterity, thereby creating just the right sort of chi-energy vibratory interaction, bringing up from inside the artist’s body to interact with other chi-energy packets in waves of the environment, whether it is the opposing Martial artist’s or something else, as the case might be. In a Spiritual Exercise of utter concentration, the Martial Artist repeats the similar movements with his or her wooden sword over again and again in a cosmic dance, as it were, in a deserted space in a mountain valley. His or her mind is emptied and his movements are all spontaneous, never tentative. Lee Jai-Kyung works on her painting in a similar way, as a Zen Monk might in his or her meditation. She works and reworks on her brush strokes all over the canvas and then on top of it and then again and again. All spiritual exercise seem to involve REPETITIVE chanting or movements, again and again until the exercising person brings himself or herself into self-hallucination of a sort in which she or he leaves his or her conscious self, having emptied his or her mind.
Let us dwell on the notion of ‘repetition’ for a moment longer, as it has an important bearing on an aspect of Lee Jai-Kyung’s works of painting. There are mechanical repetitions in which exactly tabulated the self-same motion is repeated over again and again. Then, there’s re-iterative bifurcation. The same set of motion has been carried out, and then the whole set of the same set of motion is repeated but at a slightly altered speed and/or force, for instance; those small variations or discrepancies of different parameters required to accomplish the set of motions, however tiny they may be, will somehow make a tremendous differences after the re-iteration has been carried out enough number of times, be it hundredth times or tenth times. Lee Jai-Kyung, being a human being, her brush strokes cannot be exactly the same each time she applies it to spread her chosen color of a specific chromatic density and viscosity. It is for that reason that her color fields, be it primary red or yellow or blue, have within the same general chromatic spectrum, surprisingly varied congealment of color densities in rhythmic movements across the picture plane. I can only compare it to some theme music of Phillip Glass compositions. Take Glass composition for the famous documentary film, KOYAANISQATSI, a profound filmic meditationon man, nature and technology. Within the same over-all mood that spans the entire film, there is a variety of different yet related musical themes that are repeated and reiterated over again and again, somewhat like a huge white cloud made of different patches of smaller clouds of different densities, but all of them as a single group, moving across a clear blue sky in a Sky-High Country of the vast North American Middle West. (Foot Note: See Terrence Malick’s film, Days of Heaven, for example.)
Music is but a packet of sound waves. So is Color Field Painting of Lee Jai-Kyung. In her case, it is a packet of light waves in different chromatic dispersions. The sound waves of Music impact on our auditory nerve cells, whereas the packet of light waves from Color-Field Painting of Lee impacts on the nerve cells of the on-lookers’retina, not as visual stimuli for visual seeing or interpretation but for a direct physical impact as the electromagnetic energy packet of light particles literally and in full materiality impinge on human nerve cells. Insofar as colors on the picture surface of Lee’s paintings occupy their own characteristic spectrum of the sun-light’s wave length, we could plausibly talk about these different colors’ having their own characteristic energy packet frequency.
There is an additional dimension here, possibly more important: when Lee Jai-Kyung applies her color-ink-brush strokes over again and again, she is at the same time, giving a shape to each of her brush strokes a chi-energy vector-line. Therefore, all these reiterations of slightly varying shapes of chi-energy vectors TOGETHER create a unique kind of chi-energy topography over the entire surface of her picture plane. The over-all configuration of the chi-energy vector lines defines a unique force field of this particular chi-energy. Whether it’s electromagnetic energy or its transformation into chi-energy (as the reiterative efforts of constant chi-energy shaping with her brush stroke movements), these characteristic energy-force fields the artists created can plausibly have healing effects? How? It can perhaps be best explained by analogy to the traditional Oriental medicinal practices of creating a medicinal potion. What a traditional Oriental Medicinal Doctor does is togather dried plants and their roots like ginseng, combine judiciously a number of such medicinal plants and then brew them together before the brew is given to a patient to drink? What is the principle? Each medicinal plant has its own characteristic chi-energy pattern (classified according to their character as having one of the five characters –namely, the character of fire, of water, of metal, of earth and of a tree). Now, the traditional Oriental Medicine also classifies each human person as having ‘fire’ or ‘water’character as a bodily being. Now, when the harmonious balance among these five characteristic forces is disrupted, because of a sudden weakening of his or her fire force, then it is the tree force that has to be supplanted. So, the traditional Oriental Medicinal Doctor combines a number of medicinal plants so that they can together create the best form of ‘TREE-FORCE’ to somehow help the patient’s weakened Fire-Force by consuming the brew made from this combination. As each color has variously different shades and hues, so does individual chi-energy-forces. That is why the traditional Oriental Medicinal Doctor must find THE right combination to create just the right complement or antidote. It is just in some such ways that Lee’s color field paintings are healing, by having a clearly defined vibrational healing modality. They can thus be very USEFUL to chromatic therapy.
[3]
Superficially, Lee Jai-Kyung’s works resemble the color field paintings of the West. However, nothing could be farther than that! This artist is doing something entirely different, as I made it evident in Part I of this essay. Lee Jai-Kyung is taking visual art into an unknown territory, which refuses to stay within or with the history of contemporary painting other than that hers are also exhibited in Gallery spaces. In everything else, in the kind of aesthetic effects she pursue and the artistic goal she set for himself are entirely different from the contemporary paradigm of doing-art. She is unique even among Korean artists, unlike any other. It is perhaps useful to contextualize her works within the brief history of contemporary Korean Art and prevailing milieu of the Korean Art Scene (in which such scandalous events as Shin Jeongah and alleged corruption in the power-house of Korean Art in the figures of Mrs. Samsung and so many other alleged fraudulences and misdeeds have been constantly in the news).
There’s an intriguing and provocative passage at the end of a short chapter on Korean history in the standard college text book on the History of East Asia by Craig, Fairbank and Reischauer. The three Harvard Historians had raised this interesting question (in paraphrase): what is it about Korean people that they went to such dogmatic extremes in their appropriation of Neo-Confucian teachings that they thought nothing of killing their opposing factions over some trivial exegesis of a passage in some Confucian canonical texts, over something that is not even their own invention but an import from outside –namely, China? The same question can be raised about Korean people with their ardent embracing of Christianity, while it had no success in proselytizing their next door neighbor, Japanese people. The same kind of fervent embracing of foreign ideas, something that is totally alien to their own spiritual and cultural soil, has happened in Korean contemporary arts as well; in this case, it is the Western idea of ‘avant-garde’, Nam Jun Paik being only one of the earliest to do so. There’s no dearth of his epigones in Korea. It is for some such reasons that Korean artists seem to take much greater pride in having their works at such Western avant-garde venues as Venice Bienale or Cassel Documenta than having their works shown and sold at Commercial Art Auctions. Whereas Korean artists were busy in appropriating the peculiarly Western need for pure ‘concepts’, not satisfied with dealing in the worldly realm of ‘reality’ in such Western avant-garde preoccupation with the conceptual art and some other similar bastardized versions of nihilistic posturing, Chinese artists were much more pragmatic even in the way they appropriated Western styles of modern art. Surely, Professor Francois Jullien’s brilliant exposition of how different the Chinese philosophical disposition was from the Western men’s in their rejection of the world of pure ideas as irrelevant, thus pursuing the ‘immanence’ rather than ‘transcendence’. The contemporary Chinese artists too have appropriated Western avant-garde, but itwas with an eye to explore the kind of Pop culture haven that the East Asian societies have become, as a result of economic development accompanied by the modernization of what used to be very traditional societies.
Indeed, the intense process of globalization in a short span of the past two decades or so has decisively transformed the societies of East Asian countries beyond recognition. American-style consumer Pop culture has taken root in what were once traditional Confucian societies, in the irdietary habits, dressing fashions and other consumption styles of Pop culture. Superficially at least, East Asia has become a Pop culture haven, showing much less resistance to the Americanization of their traditional cultures and societies than the European Countries ever were. The fast pace of cultural transformation has had its impact on their burgeoning Art world of the East Asia as well. Rejecting or lacking Western-style theoretical bent, the Chinese artists borrowed the most appropriate Western style of avant-garde, Andy Warhol’s Pop Art style of painting in order to survey, study and interrogate the consumer society of Pop Culture that their societies had become. As Warhole had never been able to, the Chinese Pop artists turn the Pop-Art-like-figurative painting into a powerful means of deconstructing the excess legacies of Maoist revolutionary strategies to re-make China, culturally and not only politico-economically.
In so doing, some of these Pop Artists of Chinese version became huge mega-stars in the international art world, their works going for multimillion dollars at auction houses all over the world. Korean artists had thought they had an advantage over the contemporary painters of Mainland China, as they had continuous interaction with the Western art world while the Chinese had been in utter isolation from the rest of the world. Therefore, it was a shock, an eye opener, for the Korean modern painters to see Chinese painters leap-frog them into the International stardom in a matter of mere decade or two after the Chinese re-entry into the world community. It had a salutary effect on Korean contemporary painters. Until then, Korean painters were drawn to Western-style abstract painting and avant-garde conceptual and installation arts; they had the tendency to look down on any form of figurative painting.
This attitude prevailed even among the ranks of the so-called painters of the Oriental Painting . With the great successes that Chinese painters were achieving on many international art fairs and auctions, many artists of the traditional Oriental Painting began having doubts about the validity and future of their Artistic Career, their survivability. Many of them gave up and began doing something that was hardly Oriental. Identity crisis as an artist among the Painters of the Traditional Genre of Oriental Painting was suffered by great many of them. Lee Jai-Kyung wasn’t one of them. She had found her way and single-handedly pursued her own art, insisting on ‘my way’. She is in just such a way an example for younger generation Korean artists. "Don’t just look towards the International Art Centers of the West like New York or Paris. Don’t go astray from your own cultural identity. Unless rooted in your own cultural and artistic soil, you cannot blossom fully and give any sort of healing support to anyone else." Art, after all, is a spiritually healing activity. It is in just such a spirit that old Kant said thus: "Art is an expression of the very basic human aspiration towards a perfect community, and this very aspiration is the ground for the possibility of human spirituality."
END