Extending Study in Academic Inquires & Personal Doubts
INSA Gallery
Seoul, Korea
2023



Composition 2A (When in doubt… Attack!)

Oil and acrylic on wooden panel
120 x 120 cm
2023
Composition 1A  (Lucious Locks)

Oil and acrylic on wooden panel
96 x 120 cm
2023

Composition 3A (ABCD)

Oil and acrylic on wooden panel
142 x 120 cm
2023

Debris 2A (Disco!)

Oil and acrylic on wooden panels
250 x 100 cm
2022



Debris 2A (어린 놈이 어디서 까불어!)

Acrylic on wooden panels
100 x 50 cm
2022




Study in the continuity of time and space (In order for a drunk man to  nd his lost watch, he must be drunk again)

Oil and acrylic on wooden panels
400 x 160 cm
2023



Manoeuvre 1A (Aim for the hole!)

Oil and acrylic on wooden panels
120 x 30 cm (x8)
2023

Manoeuvre 2A (Prussia􏘧s Glory)

Acrylic on wooden panels
120 x 120
2023



Manoeuvre 1

Acrylic on wooden panel
100 x 50 cm
2022




We are all coloured people (Dong–Wee, 2021, 09.09 10:41, 2)

Acrylic on wooden panels (Found Objects)
10 x 80 cm (x18)
2021



Title

Material
Dimension
Year


Untitled

Watercolour, acrylic and pen on wooden panel and frame
65 x 40 cm
2012






In recent years, the practical and historical usage and significance of the ‘grid’ system let me thoroughly research and practice it. This practice was followed by a number of academic inquiries and doubts that are surrounding my work and myself. These doubts especially consisted of a very personal matter. 

Within the bounds of the doubts and questions, my practice proceeded to explore the discussion of centrifugal and centripetal. This resulted in further extending my inquiries into vulnerability in painting, therefore realising the vulnerability of my own, the inevitability of human nature, as making and breaking of forms within the square blocks in the previous Composition series, and thus the vitality and mortality of the art, my language of art and myself. 

As I learnt that the aim of the practice must be to engage in doubts that are created whilst seeking the resolution of each work, numerous new doubts and inquiries have followed by recent works. 

Varying the composition of grids through mathematical miscalculation was the methodology that led the painting to have its grid system, as my aim was to make the composition to be interesting through mistakes. The labour-intensive and time-consuming process, carving and scoring the grids onto the wooden panel and finally scorching them that leave burnt marks on it, is the crucial part of the conceptual approach to the work itself. This necessary part of the process stands to align as a metaphor for the inevitable human nature of conquering and dominating other entities as I would try to claim domain over the material by my action.


In the newest Composition series, I focused on the depth of the paintings rather than relying on my mistakes to yield an interesting grid system. Considering the depth of the composition, deeper gaps on the grids resolved to happen both intuitively and deliberately, and vivid colour paint would be applied to these crevasses. Therefore, they predetermine the dominant and subordinate composition in the painting. 

This is also achieved by the ‘simulacre’ form on the painting, which many refer to as a cloud-like image. This non-absolute totemic form, abruptly invasive and effuse of the grids, is rigorously controlled by the unpainted geometric forms. This dominance over subordinating form is also asserted by the frame, as their colour balances the overall mood and tone and repels the focal point of the composition within the containment of the frame. These dominant-to-subordinate, strong-to-weak, and active-to-static features create conflict, and through it, they are eventually neutralised. 

Since it was not my intention or how I perceived it, I initially rejected and even hated the ‘pareidolia’ that the audience projected through this form, evoking a sense of familiarity or recognition of clouds.’ “What you see is what you get” 1. does not imply abstract painting, yet the fact that the 'cloud’ is a natural formation that can be seen above the Earth, unable to be touched or felt but only allowing one to gaze up emboldens the idea of neutrality.

The recent Composition series faced new logistical and technical issues of being unable to receive the wooden panel at the size I wanted, but rather getting them segmented, usually in pieces of three or four, leaving me with the problem of putting the pieces together to make it as one. I dealt with this problem by implementing ‘French cleat,’ two wooden pieces that are cut at a forty-five-degree angle, with one piece being mounted on the wall and the other piece being installed to the back of the wooden panels. This device initially was to provide a sturdy and secure connection from the painting to the wall. 

During the process, the French cleat system’s interconnectivity of how two have to interlock each other engrossed me. This called for immediate action of applying paint onto them and studying the colour interaction and balance in terms of colour. In order to further engage in this idea, I made several pieces where the French cleats are either extended out of the wooden panel and therefore stretch the surface of the piece or leave the vacant space between the wooden panels for the French cleats to be shown and therefore resulting literal depth. Yet, along the process, more logistical and technical problems arose. 

The French cleats imposed a heavy logistical burden as they were necessarily required to be in ‘correct’ measurement and angle. Thus far, the nature of manufactured and processed wooden boards always resulted in slight or sometimes significant measurement differences; this gave me numerous trials and errors in order to make them correct. As yet, more arduous problems awaited me. 

The biggest issue that I had during the process was installing them both on the back of the wooden panels and on the wall. Each French cleat is required to be aligned straight horizontally and, at the same time, had to affix the wooden panels together as one. This burdensome and stressful process granted me ‘blood, sweat, and tears’ as I literally had cut myself several times, plenty of sweating, and bitter tears. 
After all the trials and errors, noticing how the painting is hung slightly off the level and the wooden panels not being connected ‘perfectly,’ causing grids on the surface to be dislocated by each panel, made every attempt to be futile and brought extreme frustration. Withal, this ‘imperfection’ made me realise/how reliant the painting or I am on the ‘white-cubed’ wall and, in turn, the vulnerability of the nature of the painting and myself. The human brain’s tendency to seek out symmetry and my action to make it so also embolden the idea of inevitable human nature. In addition to rewinding myself back to these ideas, I also had to revisit the question David Joselit made of ‘How does painting belong to a network?’ 2. 

My continuous exploration of the ‘grid’ system, the painting, and its network pushes me to tackle the inquiries both old and new. Yet, more importantly, I see the painting as the mirror of an artist and the window to the world. I reflect on the imperfections and unpredictability of the painting. Thus, I am reminded of the question, “Am I the one dictating, or is it the painting?” Ultimately, I think it is the latter.