Kyung Mi’s ‘sister’ in Bureau Grapples with Sin and Symmetry – ARTnews.com

A sense of strict order governs the drawings in New York-based artist Kyung-mi’s first solo exhibition at The Office, Lower East Side. Mirrors, columns, draperies, room dividers, spotlights, and frieze-like elements form geometric sections in the symmetrical compositions, each about three feet high by four feet wide. Scenes are set in two spaces intended to evoke otherworldly beauty: the Okiya, where geisha sit or lie in silence, and the Monastery, where nuns in elaborate robes orient themselves toward an unseen presence. Despite the show’s title, “Sister,” the women centered in most of the images appear isolated, more attached to their elaborate surroundings than the other human characters. Viewers can get lost in the details, all shown in crisscrossing pencil lines and charcoal hues on paper. But inspection comes with the sense that one might discover something darker lurking in the shadows, or in the extra rooms visible only at the edges of some of the drawings. the fall, a small piece at the beginning of the show, depicting a woman on the threshold of a forest of crooked trees, foreshadows the religious and psychological tensions that pulsate under Kyung-mi’s visions. Below, the artist discusses these tensions and the origins of a mysterious body of work. –Mira Dial

A few years ago, I became very invested in Carl Jung’s theory of symbols. One of the basic ideas is that every symbol carries a tension between opposites and that by examining our personal symbols we can better understand the underlying tensions within ourselves. For “The Sister,” I wanted to examine how the symbols I reference in my work—the woman, the mirror, the maze—connect to tensions in myself and in larger societal structures.

I was also inspired by some of the iconography, namely the symmetry and asymmetry in the image of the Crucifixion, where Christ is placed in the middle between the repentant and unrepentant thieves, the Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene. Conceptually, I wanted to draw a line down the central vertical axis of this image and ‘fold’ the image in half to compress the opposing archetypes (good thief, bad thief, maiden, whore). I wanted to create images imbued with the tension of these opposites that would feel open and closed, charged and empty, oppressive and liberating.

She created eight sketches featuring two maze houses and two archetypes. Four paintings are placed in the cloister, focusing on the image of the nun, while the other four paintings are placed in the okai, showing the image of a geisha. I was interested in the way these homes mirrored one another and the way they protected and surrounded their occupants. A nun and a geisha are often in debt to their household, and must atone for it by piety or service.

In the convent, the nun looks up to the divine image of the Virgin Mary, who embodies the impossible contradiction of being a virgin and a mother. She lives a cyclical life of service, prayer, confession and repentance. She is on a constant quest to purify her soul so that she can achieve salvation in the afterlife. In Okiya, geisha aspire towards a different kind of pure image of beauty cultivated by the home. Her success within the home rests on her desire to transform herself into a living piece of art. In her training, the geisha must learn to imitate the house ideal of beauty and perfection in her movement, speech, and art. Even at night, you sleep on a wooden pillow that keeps refreshing. For her, there is no real comfort. While the nun looks to obtain a pure image to please God, the immaculate image of a geisha is ultimately cultivated to tempt men. If the geisha is successful enough in her art, she can buy her freedom.

The pursuit of pure image embodiment requires rigorous discipline, constant self-monitoring, and an endless void of desire. These women are constantly thinking about their self-performance, which is why the sketches are all composed in stages, with the figures illuminated by stage lighting. In the world of these drawings, the private and public lives of women have completely merged. Even in private moments, eg The recognition, the woman’s character has many implied audiences: herself, her sisters, her deity, and the viewer who looks at her in the drawings. I wanted to convey a sense that she could not escape the judgmental eye.

Aesthetically, this project incorporates a lot of Japanese and Christian imagery. After the liberation of Korea from Japanese forces, the Christian narrative of salvation offered new hope to spiritually disadvantaged people. in resurrectionIncorporating the composition and shape of the crucifixion scene with the kimono hanging from the frames. in the ship The central woman has collapsed into a stringed instrument, koto, resembling a figure with her back arched, her pelvis to God, as in the “arch of hysteria” once illustrated in medical journals. The visuals also consider the similarities between the two architectures in the graphics. The space of the church makes you feel very small, and if you are impressed by its beauty, you will be overwhelmed by its arrangement. It is designed with the intent of indoctrination and consumption. In contrast, the home of a geisha was built to serve the richer and more powerful men, so it should reflect that in the architecture and everything else in the house. It’s very sinister and tempting. I love that tension.

One of the overarching themes of my work is trap. What is the smallest thing that traps you inside and what is the biggest thing that traps you? All of these scenes depict an interior space, but the screens within these spaces depict the outside world, or windows allude to it. Yes, these women are trapped in a home and in an image and in that void, but they are also trapped in something outside of all of this that is only hinted at—family, societal, and political structures. For these women, their prison is also their shelter.

A related topic in this work is the structure of the mise en apeim. Lots of screens indicate within these graphics Genji’s TaleIt is considered the first known novel written by a woman in 11th century Japan named Murasaki Shikibu. Essentially a playboy, a wandering young prince goes from woman to woman and creates deep bonds with them, but he’s always moving forward because he’s on a bigger journey that doesn’t always include them. The story is about how this man moves through the world, but it is also about how the women are treated afterward. One starts to mount up and get angry because she feels like she can’t live without him. Another becomes a poet and creator of her own world. It’s a long novel, with a lot of little stories in it. I love this theme of stories within stories and women who deal with situations in different ways. I think the book is mainly about how a woman can become a victim or get her own way. Learned how to draw by copying scenes from Genji’s Taleand its themes are now reflected in the graphics as well.

Early on in my career, I felt like I was at the entrance to a maze. I always try to make my way through it, but somehow I spat at the entrance. The process is escalating and iterative and there is a Minotaur that I seek, but as I get closer to it I don’t know if I want to approach it or go back to where I started.