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Cho Duck Hyun: Re-collections (2008)

Concerns the installation by South Korean artist Cho Duck Hyun at Kukje Gallery in Seoul, 2008. Published in Artkrush 25 August 2008.

CHO DUCK HYUN: RE-COLLECTIONS KUKJE GALLERY By Pontus Kyander The Lady Rothermere Collection – The Nora Noh Collection At first, you could assume there is nothing going on at all in the picture: a vast image from the mountains of inland Korea, mirrored in two halves – also that something not apparent at first sight. And it is a moving image, not a still photograph, which might come as a silent surprise. But two monks are busy in the far end of a meadow. They leave the place carrying something they have found buried in the ground. Presumably it is a white lotus flower of stone, one of the seven that are placed inside of a well-like structure just beside the projected video in the upstairs room of Kukje Gallery in Seoul. Inside this box, their reflections multiply eternally, into a never-ending field of lotus. Excavations have been part of professor Cho Duck Hyun’s artistic practice for a long time. Unearthing objects is to recover them, to bring them back to awareness. It is like bringing something back to memory. As we all know, when it comes to memory, it is a faculty just as much relying on facts as on fiction. Memory is always about something lost that somehow is recovered, and sometimes actually it is a finding that never existed before, a construction of our conscious or unconscious wishes. The fact that Cho Duck Hyun’s excavations are fictions does not cut off their mnemosynic roots. These objects found could be true, they carry a truth the same way a fiction story or a painting has its own truth embedded. Thus his works have been involving unearthing ever since at least the mid 90’s, when his big steel box was designed to appear from the ground at the São Paulo Biennial, like a huge and beautiful and fantastic Wunderkammer travelling through Earth from Seoul to its geographic antipode in Brazil. All filled with images rendered from historic photographs, meticulously painted in black and white on canvas in his highly realistic technique. In Gurim, not far from Gwangju, in 2001 a team of young archaeologists excavated sculptures of dogs, buried under the ground in a place where centuries of history has left numerous archaeological artefacts reminding of passing dynasties and daily life of Korean people. More surprising were later the findings of dog sculptures in San Francisco as well as in the heart of Paris, just by Les Tuileries. These excavations created global connections, implying ties and dependencies, possibly also a reversal of the commonly accepted colonial history. But the quiet excavation in Cho Duck Hyun’s exhibition Re-Collection at Kukje Gallery is a different story. It is of a much more private character, and its mythic implications belong to a personal narrative. The two “collections” that triggered the project and now organize the gallery into two juxtaposed stories, are those of fashion Nora Noh and the dowager Viscountess, Lady Rothermere. Lady Rothemere was born Lee Joeong Shun, a daughter of Koreans in Japan, and never lived in Korea during her early life. She moved to the US in the 1970s where she worked as a hand model. Meeting the publisher of the British newspaper Daily Mail, Vere Harmsworth, Viscount Rothermere (1925-1998), she entered a relationship of unusual strength and closeness, finally marrying him in 1993. Her life story has the outlines of a romantic novel, but also involves a constant sense of loss, as being deprived of what she with increasing intensity has considered her place of origin. Her gaze has been inward looking, yearning for an origin difficult to regain. Her travels to Korea led her to the temple Baek-Ryun-Sa, located in a fabulously beautiful mountain valley in the Deokyusan National Park, near the ski resort Muju in Jeolla province. Here half of the ashes after Lord Rothermere are placed in a stone urn, just as before him the ashes of Lady Rothermere’s mother were placed here. The story of Lee Jeong Shun becomes a modern saga of globalization and displacement, of the rootlessness inherited by the children of the Korean diaspora, and a constant striving to heal the sense of loss, if so only after death. Baek-Ryun-Sa is also known as The White Lotus Temple and its history goes back to the late 7th century, during the reign of King Shinmoon (681-692). The legend says that the monk Baek-Ryun-Sun-Sa dreamt that he would find a site with white lotus growing, where he would found a temple. When he woke up, he hurried to find the place, and as he dug his fingers through water and mud, he found the white lotus somewhere near the site of the current temple. The symbolism of white lotus runs deep in Buddhism. With its roots growing from the mud, its stem in the water and finally the flower spreading its candescent petals above the surface of the pond, it represents the development of the human spirit. The budding lotus is also likened to Buddha’s hands, while we all know about the Lotus position in meditation. The white lotus represents spiritual purity and elegance. This is what the monks are looking for and finding, re-enacting the mythic origin of Baek-Ryun-Sa Temple. This part of Cho Duck Hyun’s installation at Kukje Gallery has a dreamy, almost elusive character. Sparse in images, with a few landscape photographs, the film of the excavation, and just a couple of his large drawings on canvas, alluding very openly to the general story of Lady Rothermere. But a portrait of her appears in the first room of the ground floor in the gallery, facing through a passage of mirrors the portrait of Nora Noh. The portrait of the Viscountess as she looks today, wearing a traditional Korean white dress, is joined by a textile crossing over to something resembling a minimal table. On top of this sits a black butterfly. Again, a dream enters the story: After the death of her husband, the small urn with his remains were temporarily placed on a table in her bedroom. As she lay mourning in the bed, she saw a butterfly flying into the room, despite that it was already autumn. Staying in the room for some time, the butterfly finally came to rest on the urn, and died. As this story claims the value of truth, we know that butterflies relate to dreams. Famous is the story of Taoist monk Zhuangzi, who dream of flying, being a butterfly. As he wakes up, he momentarily is confused, whether he is not actually a butterfly, dreaming of being Zhuangzi. The state of dream is transgression, between dream and wake, life and death, and between being a butterfly and not. Cho Duck Hyun touches on these topics with a light and poetic hand. Nothing is selfevident here for the visitor to the gallery, what is there to experience is a general mood built on the interrelations between the works, a sense of loss and an approach through twisting metaphors rather than straightforward narrative. It is subtle, and sparse. The portrait of fashion designer Nora Noh just opposite in the other end of the room addresses a totally different story. Dressed in casual though elegant black, with a thin scarf over her neck and a modern silver necklace, she is a obviously still a woman of action and ideas, already into her 90s. Also here a transformation is occurring, not dress to butterfly, but a textile held by Ms Noh transforming into a schematic dress hanging from the ceiling. Nora Noh was born Noh Myung-Ja in 1928, the daughter of pioneer radio broadcaster Noh Chang-Sung and Lee Ok-Kyung, the first female announcer heard in Korean radio. Already from the start, her life was framed in modernity, to what extent this was possible in the occupied Korea of the 1930’s and 40’s. She married briefly, but changed her name after her divorce to Nora, after the protagonist in Henrik Ibsen’s play “A Doll’s House”, who leaves the comforts of marriage to live an independent life true to her own values. Insisting on entering a career as fashion designer – a still non-existing trade of life in Korea – her now widowed mother provided with very little hesitation the immense costs for flying to the US to get a designers education and practice in 1947. Back to Korea, everything, from procuring the wool for the fabrics to teaching the seamstresses and cutters how to approach the unfamiliar designs, had to be done from scratch. With the outbreak of the Korean War and the North Koreans approaching Seoul, the other women of her family packed their necessities, Nora Noh hers; with her beauty bag filled with cosmetics, she fled to Pusan on high heels. Her priorities were clear. Images from this evacuation are part of the presentation in the “Nora Noh Collection”, the large room of the gallery’s ground floor, with dark-patterned wallpapers and a chandelier, and walls hung full with heavily framed drawings on canvas, most of them in mirrored couples. Somewhere is a real glass mirror, sometimes the canvas is left white, or black, or grey. Images from early Korean films are brought in, as well as old documentary images from urban and at times rural life in a Korea still just lightly touched by modernization. And there is a North Korean prisoner of war, squatting on the ground, ripped of his clothes and personal dignity. Nora Noh is in her life choices an early feminist, or more correctly a woman determined not to compromise her own creativity, not prepared to victimize herself, and by no means prepared to submit herself to traditional values and expectations on how a woman should live her life. She has made her choices as if gender did not exist, in a society where gender roles were, and still are, rigidly fixed. It makes me think, that she must have paid a prise for that, however much she gained. Her life has been an international affair, moving constantly between Seoul and the metropoles of fashion: New York, Paris, Los Angeles, London, Rome. Facing each other, fashion designer Nora Noh and the Dowager Viscountess Rothermere are both some way or another transfixed by their origin – in effect, the international entrepreneur and global traveller Nora Noh has remained Korean, although constantly having a perspective given by an extroverted look at the world, while Lady Rothermere has remained a stranger looking in, someone never rooted, or uprooted from what she might have had. Identities are real and constructed. We are pushed out into realities, but once there we have to choose what to be and what to become. Nora Noh and Lee Joeong Shun represent different approaches, neither of them tragic, both of them actively formulating roles and identities for themselves. But they also represent different temperaments and perspectives. One firmly rooted, looking for something new and different, the other constantly looking for solid ground and a place to finally rest.