Gallery Chosun, Interview with Bona Park:
《Black Holes Have No Hair》(2019), 《Whistlers》(2024)
《Black Holes Have No Hair》(Gallery Chosun, 2019) initiated from physicist John Wheeler’s description of black holes. It took images and events that seem identical on the surface to reveal differences and hidden links. Historical scenes, films, novels, and performances were brought together to visualise small gaps between reality and representation, fantasy and truth, questioning the way we recognise and believe the world.
In contrast, 《Whistlers》(2024) began from a meeting with ‘Wing’, a support group for women leaving prostitution. Presenting women' s friendship and emotional connection at the core, the exhibition demonstrated women whistling together, handwritten letters to friends, and meals made together. While 《Black Holes Have No Hair》 focused on the gaps between events, images and narration that impact our perception of the world, 《Whistlers》 turned to what remains after the gaps. More specifically, how people share breaths and care for each other. Whereas the former addressed doubt and caution, the latter centred on friendship, closeness, and the attempts to build connections.
Through the two exhibitions, Bona Park shares her awareness of two main problems. One questions how images are made, distributed, and believed. The other acknowledges that this process is always tied to labour, regulations and social relations. The awareness remains, but is expressed differently in the exhibitions. 《Black Holes Have No Hair》 articulates it with words of doubt and deciphering. In 《Whistlers》 it appears through friendship and closeness. The artist does not stop at questioning the world, but also asks how we connect to others after that doubt. The change results not from the lack of critical thought, but from a shift toward everyday sensory actions, such as sharing breaths, letters, and sharing a table.
The following interview traces how the artist has reconstructed her world, images, and relationships during the flow between the two exhibitions.
- Labour has always played a vital role in your work. In 《Black Holes Have No Hair》 it appeared in the form of image creation and reproduction. In 《Whistlers》 the act of sharing breaths and preparing meals also seem to be a form of labour. Is labour more of a condition that forms relationships than something to criticize to you? How do you approach the concept of ‘labour’?
I first started working on labour in the art industry because I wanted to show that artworks and exhibitions are not made by oneself. I wanted to clear the sense of mystery and suggestions around artists, and share that art, like all other productive work outside museums, is a structural process and is created through multiple relations. For this reason, I’ve been working with those inside and outside of the art industry; those I encounter while creating and exhibiting, to share their stories and jobs.
What I focused on specifically is how labour and jobs can explain a person’s narrative and history. It works as a motive for me to meet them, and also reveals the structural challenges not only in the art world, but in society as well. In this context, my work focuses more on meeting people in labour and forming relationships with them.
Simultaneously, I brought actions that arise in their jobs, like grocery shopping, doing laundry, making sounds, or polishing shoes, into the realm of art. This attempt aimed to blur the line between art and labour, to strip art from illusion and authority, and also break free from traditional forms of expression.
- With ‘Wing’, a support group for women in prostitution, 《Whistlers》 presented women’s friendship, breath, meals, and letters. In contrast to your previous work identifying the gap between image and events, is there a reason you shifted to displaying the relations and emotional closeness of real people? Is it related to your life and your writing?
The tone of my work has become more intimate. But as I have answered in the previous question, the focus of my work has always been on the relations I form with the people I meet through work, rather than labour itself. I don’t think topics like closeness, friendship and forming relations are completely new.
Of course, writing has been a big influence. I thought it would be nice if the kindness and connectivity I mention in my writing reflected more clearly in my work. Moreover, I believe my desire to extend my relationships between myself and the labourers to the audience, so that they can feel the closeness as well, has softened the tone of my work. This also links with my passion to write in a way that moves readers. After I started writing, I began to hope that my work reaches people on an emotional level, like writing does.
- Writing appears to be an important background for both exhibitions. The writing in 《Blackhole》 seemed analytical and suspicious, whereas 《Whistlers》 felt like a letter or poem. How does your writing and artwork impact each other?
I never wanted to separate writing with art. At first, writing felt like labour. But over time, I realised that it was an alternative medium for me to connect with the world. I believe this is close to the nature of art. Hence, I want to create work that circulates art and writing instead of separating them.
- In 《Whistlers》, cooperation and friendship are key. In the past, cooperation was more about roles and tasks. However, in this exhibition, it feels more about emotional closeness. For you, is cooperation still a method of production, or a way of understanding and connecting with the world?
While working, I gradually began to think that cooperation is a process of building relationships. At first, I was devoted to showing the people I met through work, but later I realised that what mattered more was our encounter at work and our wishes for each other. For me, cooperation is a way of connecting with those I work with and with the world. Friendship in my work is a more private expression of connection and unity.
- Non-verbal emotional gestures like whistling together, drawing hearts in hands, and writing letters seem to go beyond language and logic. Compared to your previous works focusing on language, narrative, and structural criticism, your recent works highlight actions, emotions and kindness. Do you consider this a change in attitude or an expansion? Is it possibly a completely different state?
I have done performative works before, so I do not think I added more action. However, in the past, I did focus more on the position of the people in my work. Now, the emphasis is on the relationships between me and the person. I hope this relationship expands further to the audience as well. That may be why gestures of closeness and feelings of kindness appear more evidently now.
- The scenes in 《Whistlers》; sharing breath, writing letters, and preparing meals demonstrate closeness and caring in detail. Kindness and closeness often feel like a method of building relationships in recent works. While there is debate about whether or not caring and closeness is labour, is caring an emotion that occurs naturally to you? Or a behaviour you intentionally chose and built? Also, do you see the exchange of emotions as an act of production or emotional labour in your work? Or rather as something else within the realms of art?
I have an elderly relative with dementia who lives alone, so I sometimes go to the countryside to care for them. Through this, I realised that caring is labour that requires closeness and patience. For professional caregivers, caring is clearly labour. But caring itself is not simply robotic. Without emotional effort, it becomes difficult for both people. Thus, I think caring is not just an economic labour or duty, but instead an act of responsibility based on social relationships. An emotional practice based on the friendship felt with others.
Caring for me cannot be explained in one way. Sometimes it begins naturally. Other times it is intentionally chosen and built to maintain a respectful relationship. In my work, it is vital to meet people, listen to them, and spend time working hand in hand to complete the artwork. I see this not just as research or records, but as forming friendly relationships. In that sense, I feel caring is an emotion that occurs naturally, and requires ongoing effort to sustain.
If care becomes a topic in art, I hope the range of new vocabulary related to caring can open up expanded interpretations and possibilities. I believe that the wide, complicated connections between the multiple possibilities can include the shared continuity of the world.
