Check back soon
Once posts are published, you’ll see them here.
“There was silent sound lled with diverse kind of stories at night. The door is a boundary between memory and time. as far as I am concerned, the door evoked memories of my child- hood is a waiting.”
Can sound and image recall impression of past?
My works represent that question by us- ing mixed media. The most vivid memory from my childhood was a door in my grand- mother’s place. The wooden grating door applied with changho- ji, a type of Korean traditional paper, let light come through, which allowed me to faintly see through to the outside from inside. Through the light, I could feel the sound and energy of night. I was in those moments a young child who always waited for Mom to come home. While waiting for Mom, I always looked at/through the door and kept an ear out for her on the oor. I waited in hopes that I could hear Mom’s car or Mom’s footsteps. The night sounds were full of chirping from little creatures, the footsteps of passersby, dogs barking, a neighbor’s car, and so on. Those sounds—not the sounds of Mom that I was waiting for—gradually faded away from my mind and could only be heard faintly. I repeatedly woke up and fell asleep to those sounds in expectation of seeing Mom. In doing so, I naturally became obsessive with the door. To me, a door is an object that gives me a sense of expectation and disappointment. The begin- ning of irony in my work was a door. A door can expand, and at the same time, limit space. I was interested in this contradicto- ry relationship, and wire mesh and string were the materials I found for it. The relationship between the two materials are very contrasting. I pondered how to utilize these opposite el- ements: femininity and masculinity, industrial work and hand- iwork, strong and weak, cold and warm. And I started making a frame by wrapping around the wire mesh with a string in the manner of a mother protecting her child.