JeongMoon Choi / 5 und 5_Verstrickung

18.06. - 16.07.2005 / Gallery Weisser Elefant, Berlin

A Yin Yang tension between cultures?

The word tension is in fact not really appropriate – it is rather a rift or a division that we are dealing with here. The position of contemporary Korean artists in the context of western art is not always a simple one: in the west, they are often perceived as exotic, as “too Asian.” On the other hand, the same artists do not have an easier time in their own country: there they are often suspected of being “too western.” While the art-interested public seems to implicitly force them to choose between two cultural alternatives, the artists themselves attempt to incorporate their exploration of western forms of art into their own traditional perspective, which includes perceptions of cosmic powers and their cultural counterparts, which are not written off as frequently as in the western world.

With her exhibition “The Five Elements” in the Weisser Elefant Gallery in Berlin-Mitte, Jeongmoon Choi has succeeeded in creating an extraordinarily concentrated, meditative, three dimensional installation. If the rooms had not already been specified, one might have thought that the artist had conceived the arrangement of the rooms and the views herself, in order to create an optimal dramaturgy between the individual elements of the work.
Standing in the centre of the narrow corridor between the rooms, the viewer finds him or herself opposite “fire,” a 3 m 40 high column made up of 6 polystyrene spheres that are tightly bound with red wool thread and extend conically upwards to the last sphere with a diameter of 1 m. The column is fixed horizontally across the space using wool threads that stretch from the walls to the floor, and at the same time supplement the room axes at their turning points, with an airy movement: a dynamic situation that increases for the viewer the moment he or she begins to move through the space that is accessible, with a view of the larger spheres that are part of the upper section of the column and at the same time of the displaced path of the stretched thread. The space at the back of the room cannot be entered – it is only the viewer’s eye that glides into this space and is at the same time diverted by the movement created by the pattern of the threads.

From the entrance to the fire-room, the viewer’s gaze is able to move between the rooms “metal/gold” and “earth.” Although in the west we tend to associate gold with smooth lustre or the alchemist’s quest for perfection, Jeongmoon Choi surprises us by positioning another large sphere in our line of vision – a chaotically agitated entanglement of white-grey wool threads, whose core has been stiffened with wire. Eccentrically occupying the corner of the room, the perplexing shape that concentrically increases in density, is echoed by two large 1 x 3 m drawings, which deal with the theme of the perplexity, inextricability and entanglement — using coloured pencils. On the second wall opposite the sphere made up of chaotic threads is a large canvas picture, on which pre-knitted traditional Korean ornamental window patterns have been “drawn.” The ordered calm that follows chaos? In the context of this room, one could also speak of a carefully controlled chaos, as the shapes retain something of the chaotic entanglement of threads by the nature of how they overlap and because of the 9-piece repetition of the ornamental pattern, yet at the same time their colour, with the transition from red with a touch of violet to dark blue, stabilises the axis and gives the work a serial clarity. If one considers that in Asia, these kinds of window decorations do not only filter the light but also soften the transition between the interior and exterior, between light and dusk, then the axis with which the light enters the space is criss-crossed and made to flicker, making it possible to perceive — through the addition of this “gold” — a transition between the raw elemental state and its transformation into a cultural form.

Turning around, the viewer enters the “water” room. In this room, cobalt blue and dark blue balls of wool trickle down the walls on a thread of the same colour, pausing for a moment at different heights, almost as if by magic. The round drops with a diameter of approx. 2cm und 9cm had to be fixed to the wall in some way, yet together with the trickling threads, a sense of gravity is created and at the same time a — temporary — suspension, and this corresponds to a meditative moment of pause. In the relationship between the two neighbouring rooms, the “water” room is characterised by softness and coolness, while the “gold” room combines playful charm with a restrained civilising, softening effect.

The rooms “tree/wood” and “earth” are situated at the other end of the space, opposite the central “fire” room. It is possible to see both the “earth” room and the “gold/metal” room from the centre of the “fire” room. Using tiny balls of wool on a wooden base, Jeongmoon Choi has created a pattern that is used to decorate a wide range of objects in her home country such as tiled roofs, pillowcases or doors. This pattern directly corresponds to the dynamic tension of Yin und Yang: a circle, in which a yellow-ochre coloured pattern has been inserted into a space with a double axis, which is at the same time divided vertically by the contrasting colours of brownish red and a very dark shade of blue, a patterned background which, with alternating sides and supplemented by white rings, also forms the outer parameters. This space in the gallery is divided into two narrow rooms by a wall along the longitudinal axis. Jeongmoon Choi therefore decided to realise this work in the form of two parts of a whole, which, fixed by a strip, are in contact with the dividing wall along the longitudinal axis, so that they form a complete circle when viewed at a distance from the entrance. If one moves into the rooms themselves, the circle separates and the viewer must complete the picture using the imagination — or visual memory. It is not possible to access the reverse side of the work: The banishing effect of the two halves of the circle makes it difficult to take a crudely inquisitive step towards what is behind.

In contrast, the intention is that the viewer should walk right to the end of the “wood/tree” room opposite, because in this room the “picture,” which is at the same time a ground relief, lies at one’s feet like an upwardly sloping hill. Here, Jeongmoon Choi exhibits a work that she showed for the first time as her graduation piece in Kassel — in a new context and a different way. She had noticed that we in the West also implement the remains of an ornamental pattern very frequently in the form of the poured stone –or concrete tiles, with which our public spaces are covered. By creating the same zigzag shape of the uniformly grey tiles using different coloured pieces of wood, Jeongmoon Choi increases the element of motion in the outlines of her model and in this way speeds up the steps of the viewer. The moment the viewer looks down at the ornamental pattern at his or her feet, in which the light edges merge into a dark centre like an eye, the floor rises up; in fact it rises to the height of the window sill, thus forcing a movement that the artist initially pursued by means of a sensitive video and the projection possibilities provided by the camera. — If one turns around at this point and looks up again, one is able to see the yin yang circle opposite and use its vertical, solemnly suspended, peaceful position to regain a sense of balance.

Initially, it is not easy for a western viewer to comprehend the relationship between the five elements and the different rooms, especially since we only have four elements in our tradition. Perhaps it is exactly here that the meaning lies, however, as the artist’s approach is everything but allegorical and her inventiveness allows us if need be to create a discrete link between the themes on the one hand and the optically sculptural shapes on the other hand. If one has experienced each of the individual rooms, several surprising and at the same time unobtrusive links can be made between the individual shapes and patterns, a cautious network of associations that is transported and encouraged by each of the spatially three dimensional installations. Perhaps we should therefore try not to overload these structures with too many “Asian explanations,” but rather re-emphasise the core elements. There is the central room with its “fire column” that dynamically activates the airspace, there is the interplay between the chaotic entangled ball and subtle cultural transformation, between an agitated spherical sculpture on the ground and the echo-like paraphrases on the walls, there are the walls that have been transformed into a delicate relief with its trickling shapes, then a floor relief with optically warm tones, and finally an upright picture that is not flat on the wall but has been positioned aslant between two wall surfaces as if it is suspended and implicitly wants to indicate that the position of a picture in a room is variable. The “five elements” lead us through a whole range of sculptural and installation possibilities relating not only to the scope provided by the space and the artist’s response to this but also to our physical and visual experience.

Perhaps one should retain the productive remains of the — western — amazement at the signifiers that Jeongmoon Choi has allocated to each of the elements of the installation, and respect the peaceful nature of the successful scenario as well as the verbal discretion that it shares with many — western — installations, and perhaps instead add a less well-known version of the yin yang theory, often over-emphasised in the west: This version describes yin as the dark, shadowy bank of the river, while yang is the bright, sunny side. Yin und Yang are both part of the same river that optically reveals the dark depths as well as the bright side. In the oppositional proximity of yin and yang on the banks of the river, the functions that meet are those that can be defined by the gaze of the viewer – including the western viewers: If we do not see the division between the cultures as something that cannot be changed, then the gaze and emotions of the viewer can be reflected in artistic forms of communication that are no longer so unfamiliar, and Jeongmoon Choi’s installation “The Five Elements” provides a fascinating opportunity for this.

Prof. Dr. Ursula Panhans-Bühler, HBK Kassel

Translated by Gillian Morris

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