공의 매혹: Lee Hojin
Emptiness
Like a novel by Jean Grenier, I realised that in the landscapes I see, I am often absent. Stories about disappearing or fading landscapes and memories stir both unease and awareness about the present existence and the nature of being. On the continuum of life, which cannot be divided neatly into extremes like good and evil or happiness and sorrow, we sometimes stand uneasily, without a sense of presence.
In these past times, I have observed life as a recurring “other” and, carrying exhausted emotions, created landscapes without presence. The current longing for emptiness and erasure can point toward something new or serve as a personal space to fill with something else. Yet there is also beauty in stepping back slightly from the emptiness itself; this act of contemplation calms my anxieties about life.
Shifting from works of creation and outpouring to works of blurring and erasure brings a pleasure similar to the release found in letting go, as much as it reflects the painful days. Although not precise, the cycles of life, competitive relationships, and recurring emotions ultimately do not define existence. This understanding forms the basis of the paintings and spatial works I create.
Seeing a Great View, Without Me_I Am Not There
The adjective great is often used to mean “good” or “grand”, but if you look up its dictionary definition, it first refers to “large” or “many”. I reflect on the logical process, or the trap, by which an objective measure of “large and many” shifts into the positive meaning of “good and grand.” If my works convey the collision of raw energy rather than admiration for the grandeur of the world, it is likely because of a lingering doubt about this logic.
When facing the explosive energy of a massive cityscape, I sometimes sense my own absence within it. This is the moment when my physical, material self becomes aware of its own soul; a quiet inner landscape revealed against the furious pace and chaos of the city. Borrowing Foucault’s logic, my existence can only be recognized through others; similarly, the roar and fascist-like speed of the city dramatically expose the emptiness of my inner landscape.
These moments may vanish under an undefinable name or fade quickly as new landscapes unfold before me. Yet the intensity of even that brief experience lingers strangely long, confronting me with my own rawness, my unvarnished self.