Sangwon Kwak

My Land, 2021, oil on canvas, 194 × 130 cm

Roamers

Sangwon Kwak

Traversing the boundary between painting and drawing, Sangwon Kwak creates figure paintings with bold outlines drawn with charcoal, or oil paintings with intense textures formed by thick layers of paint. Combining different layers, methods, and attitudes, all of Kwak’s works convey their own distinctive moods, sensibility, and emotions. Nevertheless, they are linked by certain formal consistencies, such that each painting seems to represent the apex of an unspecified narrative. For example, The Catcher (2013) shows the silhouette of a person standing on a ridge and pointing a gun at an unseen target. Despite the lack of visual clues, the title subtly suggests that the person is some type of guardian or protector engaged in a defensive maneuver. Channel of Fragments (2019) consists of thick line drawings framed inside panels, resembling comics or animation cells, emphasizing the discontinuity of the scenes. Unable to elucidate the underlying narrative connecting these scenes, we can only read them as an “open narrative.”

The Catcher, 2013, acrylic on canvas, 45.5 × 53 cm

Channel of Fragments, 2017–2019, gouache on paper, 39.4 × 54.5 (each)

Many of Kwak’s works feature a lone figure standing or walking in a forest or field. Works with ambiguous titles such as Roamer (2018) or Person Standing (2020) contain simple figures who are backlit or turning their backs to the viewer to conceal their identity. The choice of texture and light in these works is particularly interesting. In Roamer, for example, a person walking a dark forest path is surrounded by concentric circles of black and white expressed with spiraling lines of charcoal. Occupying a secluded space of loneliness and alienation, the figure is clearly positioned as a symbolic subject. He crosses a stage designed especially for him, like a character from a Samuel Beckett play. Meanwhile, in Person Standing, the figure stands a step away from a circle on the floor, while melting into the background of blue light like a ghost. To create this effect, the artist first produced a pictorial plane with a strong texture, before scribbling in the background and figure with lines of blue paint. In this way, the narrative elicits a completely different pictorial order and method.

Roamer, 2018, charcoal on paper, 54.5 × 39.4 cm

Person Standing, 2020, oil on canvas, 194 × 130 cm

Born in 1983, Sangwon Kwak grew up in a period marked by dramatic economic swings, social polarization, and ideological conflicts. This context might help to explain the figures in paintings such as Full Moon Day (2014), who seem to be wandering through dangerous traps or swamps with no clear direction or destination. From Fragments (2019) shows two figures with arms interlocked, one of whom is sinking into a bog or whirlpool. Because of the simple expression of the arms and hands, however, it is impossible to tell whether the standing person is trying to save or to drown the sinking person. Other works are haunted by people concealed in the background, as if witnessing a scene without intervening. In Contact (2019), two figures face one another in a chaotic, post-apocalyptic scene. One of the figures appears to be dead, while the other may be blind. Whether these two are the same person or different people, they are clearly entrapped and unable to move in the surrounding space, as if entangled in the sharp branches of a forest.

Full Moon Day, 2014, acrylic on canvas, 194 × 130 cm

From Fragments, 2019, charcoal on paper, 54.5 × 39.4 cm

Contact, 2019, acrylic on canvas, 210 × 145 cm

In more recent works, the figures have become vague traces or faint silhouettes trapped between stones, as in My Stone (2020), or within tree branches and vines, as in Treefingers (2021). This progression was predicted by Engraved Face (2020), in which the frozen facial expressions of people who disappeared into the swamp are smudged into the surrounding landscape, indistinguishable from the ground. Only by looking very carefully can viewers discern the angry expression of a person with eyes wide open, located in the middle of the upper part of the painting. Some of Kwak’s recent figure paintings seem to depict the ghosts of those who have returned from these depths. My Blue (2018) shows a white faceless figure with water leaking from the chest, like a drowning victim. On the other hand, the sharp lines might also be the leaves of plants piercing the body. The red silhouette in Youth (2021) holds a long pole and breaks through the horizon at the neck, as if burning with the passions of youth. Finally, the ghostly figure in My Land (2021) wears a hat that merges with the surrounding sky, such that the distant hills are visible through his transparent head. His back seems to be soaked with sweat, while the left leg of his pants is also wet. Hesitating, the person must inevitably make his way through the green fields to his desolate land. Such narratives clearly reveal Sangwon Kwak’s feelings towards a bygone era. Where will all the people who are seeking “their land” go now?

My Stone, 2020, oil on canvas, 162 × 130 cm

Engraved Face, 2020, oil on canvas, 194 × 130 cm

Treefingers, 2021, oil on canvas, 194 × 130 cm

Youth, 2021, acrylic on canvas, 53 × 33.3 cm

My Blue, 2018, charcoal on paper, 54.5 × 39.4 cm

My Land, 2021, oil on canvas, 194 × 130 cm

“Rather than pursuing realistic representations of specific objects as seen through careful observation, Sangwon Kwak captures traces of objects that have passed through the nerves of the retina, as if confirming some vague memory their presence. Each of his paintings testifies to the act of roaming. While it seems certain that he must have visited the actual site, the purpose of the visit is unknown. Therefore, his canvases are filled with desolation. As Kwak said, ‘I don’t think anything can stay where it is forever. I wonder if work, love, feelings, status, and relationships are all just passing by.’ Perhaps the sole purpose of Kwak’s actions is to show that the time and space in his paintings is not his own. In objectifying the time and space around him, the artist excavates the source of anxiety.”

Seokgwon Hwang

Sangwon Kwak
b. 1983
Solo Exhibitions
2020 Low Temperature · Emotional Curve, ThisWeekendRoom, Seoul
2019 From Fragments, Art Space Hue, Paju
Youth, Cheongju Art Studio, Cheongju
2017 Roamer, Gallery Chosun, Seoul
2014 Swimming Bird, Gallery Imazoo, Seoul
2013 Amass of Hunting / Enemy of Hunting, Gallery 175, Seoul
Selected Group Exhibitions
2021 Far in My Mirror, ThisWeekendRoom, Seoul
Yes, This Is Our Map, Gallery MEME, Seoul
2020 Zoom In IAa, Art Space IAa, Jeju
2019 Illusion-Elusion, Seongnam Arts Center Cube Museum, Seongnam
Process Tracker, Wumin Art Center, Cheongju
Sender Inquiry, Cheongju Art Studio, Cheongju
2018 Face, Cover, Seongnam Arts Center Cube Museum, Seongnam
Beyond the Night, Cheongju Art Studio, Cheongju
Night Hiking, Art Space Hue, Paju
New Drawing Project, Chang Ucchin Museum of Art, Yangju
2017 In Every Language We Know, Kumho Museum of Art, Seoul
Desperate, Pessimistic, Optimistic, Seum Art Space, Seoul
Inside Out, Project Space Wumin
2016 Room with Six Corners, Kumho Museum of Art, Seoul
The 3rd Sight, Ilhyun Museum, YanGoyang
O’newwall Mayfest, Space O’newwall, Seoul
Mise en Scene, Space NOWHERE, Seoul
2015 Potential Symbol, Shin Museum of Art, Cheongju
Resist Forgetting, Ansan Arts Center, Ansan
2014 Archive Exhibition, Art Space Jayu, Goyang
Young Creatives, Seongnam Arts Center Cube Museum, Seongnam
Independence or Penetration, Dongduk Art Gallery, Seoul
Today’s Salon, Common Center, Seoul
Doodle, Unofficial Preview Gallery, Seoul
A Spooky Edge, KARTS Seokgwandong Gallery, Seoul
2011 The Arrow, Gallery M, Daegu, Korea
A Formula of the Mind’s Eye, Gallery 175, Seoul
2010 Beast of Best Competition, Doosan Art Center, Seoul
The Language Game, Sungkok Museum, Seoul
Awards
2017 Art Support Fellowship, Seoul Foundation for Arts & Culture
2015 ARKO WORKSHOP, Arts Council Korea
2014 Art Support Fellowship, Seoul Foundation for Arts & Culture
Selected Young Artist, Shin Museum of Art
2013 Rising School Residency, Ilhyun Museum
2010 Selected Young Artists, Art in Culture
Residencies
2018 Cheongju Art Studio, Cheongju
2015-2017 Kumho Art Studio, Seoul
Collections
MMCA Art Bank

 

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Conditions of Illusion: On Sangwon Kwak’s Paintings
Saemi Cho

Sangwon Kwak’s works are perceived in a way similar to how analogue movies are perceived. Unlike movies, which are created by the integration of non-material images from fixed light sources and rotating movements and whose images disappear over time, Kwak’s paintings have no source of light. There is only the artist’s labor of overlapping a painting with another. And that labor is physically accumulated on the canvas. Kwak’s works trigger a projection mechanism by reducing the amount of surface information. The viewer is encouraged to solve the riddle hidden in his works and asked to be patient. Beneath the painting, the artist has hidden pictures that do not reveal their images. That is, there is a code in his painting. The viewer has to decipher the code exchanged between the visible paintings and the invisible ones. Kwak’s paintings contain much more information than the visual contents on the surface, which in most cases boils down to the accumulation of synaesthetic time.

In his 2019 work titled “Contact,” there are two figures. They look like the two protagonists from Narcissus and Goldmund, a novel written by Hermann Karl Hesse in 1930; they look like two politicians from different factions who come into conflict over a pressing issue; sometimes they also look as if they were Buddha or a bodhisattva in an altar painting at a Buddhist temple. The artist says if the painting is x-rayed, more than ten people will be seen. Although one painting is layered on top of another, and time and incidents are stacked up, most viewers will not be able to detect the other ten people in the painting. Kwak intentionally created a painting that cannot be visually perceived.

The artist’s paintings before 2017, such as the series “A Record of Fragments,” are the result of ceaseless endeavors to capture people as they really are. For example, there are soldiers on duty, politicians, and ordinary fathers. The artist’s interest gradually shifted toward pictorial representation of universal human psychology underlying the mental state of humans, such as the human subconscious, sexual desire, anxiety, despair, and death. The artist’s concern for universal human psychology began to take shape through a methodology called a projection of illusion. The methodology can draw out meaningful interpretations when the act of perceptual categorization is discussed. For example, the Rorschach test is a psychological test in which inkblots on paper are used as an ambiguous stimulus for revealing various aspects of personality the subject has failed to recognize. By analyzing the subject’s perceptual responses to the stimulus, the test is designed to infer the personality traits of the individual and measure their levels of anxiety, nervousness, and conflict. When the so-called projection of illusion is employed as the methodology to produce artworks, those works can interact not only with the artist’s experience but also with the capabilities of the viewer. The artist’s depiction is transformed into that of the viewer, who is then able to make variations by combining a relevant memory with another one in new ways. Therefore, the success of Kwak’s artworks depends on whether the viewer is willing to mobilize their imagination and project their memories and is ready to see the illusion in the projected memories. The artist leaves plenty of room for the viewer’s imagination, and by doing the viewer has the opportunity to become an artist.

Sangwon Kwak leaves clues in his paintings for his viewers to decipher and interpret them. These clues are expressed as five fine lines in “Blue Water” (2019), the traces of dry brushstrokes across the canvas in “Engraved Face” (2020), lines dominating the whole surface as if they were air in “Stander” (2019-2020), and the blood vessels of a living organism in “Treefingers” (2021). The continued use of blue is a metaphor for “nothingness” or the atmospheric state. The role of these clues resembles the effect of sfumato images, a painting technique of the Renaissance. The suggestion of a state of void state dominating the entire surface prevents us from telling the emotional state of the figures inside the painting and how the events are developing.

Kwak’s double-sided paintings titled “Hope” (2021) and “Air” (2021), respectively, are hung from the ceiling. From the back of “Hope” you can see a shape that looks like a human head. A little later when you go back and look at the painting from the front, you come to see two hands poking out of the bush to grab something. From the back of the painting “Air,” a picture of two people crouching can be seen. The two people are looking at each other face to face. In the center of the canvas, which is full of energy as if all living things are being born, are the two figures of unknown gender. However, when you return to the front, the emotional abundance of the back is nowhere to be seen. There remains only a ghost-like silhouette hanging around where all beings have left. The back of the painting symbolizes the past, while the front is closer to the present. The back can be likened to a prologue and the front to an epilogue.

The themes of Sangwon Kwak’s artworks have shifted from an interest in real-world figures and political events to a humanistic interest in the accumulation of illusion and psychological analysis. His paintings are talking to you in a low voice: “Can you feel the presence of these beings waiting to be found underneath the surface?” They are also telling you that they want to live and love their own lives while asking whether you are willing to save them with the aid of your illusion. The paintings, buried in a feast of wavering images, begin to send a signal that they wish to return to reality through the viewers’ illusions. Those who are swimming between visible paintings and invisible paintings are whispering that painting exists to generate illusion and the raison d’être of art can be discovered only through themselves. Even when physical components such as matter, space, and time are still deeply rooted in painting, there is a ceaseless ringing in the ear telling us that there is no art if there is no illusion.

Conditions of Illusion: On Sangwon Kwak’s Paintings
Saemi Cho

Sangwon Kwak’s works are perceived in a way similar to how analogue movies are perceived. Unlike movies, which are created by the integration of non-material images from fixed light sources and rotating movements and whose images disappear over time, Kwak’s paintings have no source of light. There is only the artist’s labor of overlapping a painting with another. And that labor is physically accumulated on the canvas. Kwak’s works trigger a projection mechanism by reducing the amount of surface information. The viewer is encouraged to solve the riddle hidden in his works and asked to be patient. Beneath the painting, the artist has hidden pictures that do not reveal their images. That is, there is a code in his painting. The viewer has to decipher the code exchanged between the visible paintings and the invisible ones. Kwak’s paintings contain much more information than the visual contents on the surface, which in most cases boils down to the accumulation of synaesthetic time.

In his 2019 work titled “Contact,” there are two figures. They look like the two protagonists from Narcissus and Goldmund, a novel written by Hermann Karl Hesse in 1930; they look like two politicians from different factions who come into conflict over a pressing issue; sometimes they also look as if they were Buddha or a bodhisattva in an altar painting at a Buddhist temple. The artist says if the painting is x-rayed, more than ten people will be seen. Although one painting is layered on top of another, and time and incidents are stacked up, most viewers will not be able to detect the other ten people in the painting. Kwak intentionally created a painting that cannot be visually perceived.

The artist’s paintings before 2017, such as the series “A Record of Fragments,” are the result of ceaseless endeavors to capture people as they really are. For example, there are soldiers on duty, politicians, and ordinary fathers. The artist’s interest gradually shifted toward pictorial representation of universal human psychology underlying the mental state of humans, such as the human subconscious, sexual desire, anxiety, despair, and death. The artist’s concern for universal human psychology began to take shape through a methodology called a projection of illusion. The methodology can draw out meaningful interpretations when the act of perceptual categorization is discussed. For example, the Rorschach test is a psychological test in which inkblots on paper are used as an ambiguous stimulus for revealing various aspects of personality the subject has failed to recognize. By analyzing the subject’s perceptual responses to the stimulus, the test is designed to infer the personality traits of the individual and measure their levels of anxiety, nervousness, and conflict. When the so-called projection of illusion is employed as the methodology to produce artworks, those works can interact not only with the artist’s experience but also with the capabilities of the viewer. The artist’s depiction is transformed into that of the viewer, who is then able to make variations by combining a relevant memory with another one in new ways. Therefore, the success of Kwak’s artworks depends on whether the viewer is willing to mobilize their imagination and project their memories and is ready to see the illusion in the projected memories. The artist leaves plenty of room for the viewer’s imagination, and by doing the viewer has the opportunity to become an artist.

Sangwon Kwak leaves clues in his paintings for his viewers to decipher and interpret them. These clues are expressed as five fine lines in “Blue Water” (2019), the traces of dry brushstrokes across the canvas in “Engraved Face” (2020), lines dominating the whole surface as if they were air in “Stander” (2019-2020), and the blood vessels of a living organism in “Treefingers” (2021). The continued use of blue is a metaphor for “nothingness” or the atmospheric state. The role of these clues resembles the effect of sfumato images, a painting technique of the Renaissance. The suggestion of a state of void state dominating the entire surface prevents us from telling the emotional state of the figures inside the painting and how the events are developing.

Kwak’s double-sided paintings titled “Hope” (2021) and “Air” (2021), respectively, are hung from the ceiling. From the back of “Hope” you can see a shape that looks like a human head. A little later when you go back and look at the painting from the front, you come to see two hands poking out of the bush to grab something. From the back of the painting “Air,” a picture of two people crouching can be seen. The two people are looking at each other face to face. In the center of the canvas, which is full of energy as if all living things are being born, are the two figures of unknown gender. However, when you return to the front, the emotional abundance of the back is nowhere to be seen. There remains only a ghost-like silhouette hanging around where all beings have left. The back of the painting symbolizes the past, while the front is closer to the present. The back can be likened to a prologue and the front to an epilogue.

The themes of Sangwon Kwak’s artworks have shifted from an interest in real-world figures and political events to a humanistic interest in the accumulation of illusion and psychological analysis. His paintings are talking to you in a low voice: “Can you feel the presence of these beings waiting to be found underneath the surface?” They are also telling you that they want to live and love their own lives while asking whether you are willing to save them with the aid of your illusion. The paintings, buried in a feast of wavering images, begin to send a signal that they wish to return to reality through the viewers’ illusions. Those who are swimming between visible paintings and invisible paintings are whispering that painting exists to generate illusion and the raison d’être of art can be discovered only through themselves. Even when physical components such as matter, space, and time are still deeply rooted in painting, there is a ceaseless ringing in the ear telling us that there is no art if there is no illusion.