English | Korean

- Separated Landscape -


Sungwoo Kim (Curator, Director at Primary Practice)



The Name ‘A Heap’
A name sometimes intensifies the meaning of what it specifies. It starts from what it depicts and extends to the context outside the screen, or elaborates the images to confine them to the frame of language, and minimizes the possibility of interpretation. Sometimes, the clear image is covered with a membrane to make it ambiguous so that it faces the senses outside the language, sometimes, the overlaid shadows are skimmed off and scattered endlessly, and it takes some part of the fragmented senses. Like this, a name activates some narrative associated with an object, or replaces an image with a sense in which the narrative has been deleted.

While looking at the series of by Gyungsu An, I think of the artist’s attitude of naming it as ‘a heap' to lump them together even though he depicts each object distinctly on the canvas. The word ‘a heap’, which refers to the whole rather than the individual elements or explanations of them in detail, makes the eye focus on the nuance or atmosphere rather than the explanation and commentary of the objects reproduced on the screen. The series of by Gyungsu An has a bleak and dreary impression, like the ruins, where the bare tree branches and fallen leaves are entangled, clustered, and accumulated with layers. Delicate strokes and skillful depiction show the shapes clearly in the canvas comparatively small. The sharp depiction of images usually turns out to be a verbal description of the information on the surface of an object rather than amplifying some emotion or sentiment that might have been felt by the objects. The accurate image allows the objects to be reliable, but at the same time, its clear resolution is confined to the frame, making it difficult to perceive anything outside the form. However, even if he clearly reproduces the object in forms, it does not seem very important what the individual object is in his works. Rather, it leads the eye to the context outside the frame in which the individual object is placed, the conditions and environment of the place, and the invisible nuances or emotions. As if the existence of the off-screen leads the narrative of the movie, it does not leave the landscape as it is, which is separated from its original place. Now, the object left on the screen is neither a tree branch withered by the end of life nor a fallen leaf. It is a heap that is driven by the sense of ‘lost’ triggered by the landscape separated from the place and reproduced, the fragmented scene, and the place where it was originally found.

Source of Senses
Landscapes that have lost their origins change our perception from ‘what to see’ to ‘how to see’. As the recognition of the object in the screen moves away from the shape, the sense towards the screen is rather strengthened. The images of the heap are the totality of materials. What stimulates the screen is not the description with an explanatory language, but the sense of the materials to realize the object (for example, brushstrokes, paint scratches, places where paint dripped, overall color or composition method, etc.). The source of these senses is not of a self-sufficient level, such as the discovery of properties inherent in materials, or a depiction that evokes emotion on purpose. Rather, it is based on the artist’s own time and experience facing the objects ‘in nature'. The encounter with the objects by this process does not keep his gaze at the level of contemplation. He carefully senses the landscape that he has chosen autonomously, fully responds to it, and forms an emotional bond with it. Despite today's environment where one can reach anywhere beyond the boundaries of physical time and space through the internet, his empirical actions and time to go outside is the basis to establish the relationship with objects as he steps out of the studio and monitor. The act of going out in nature and paint them outdoor directly require other senses and thoughts besides visual senses: the artist’s individual emotions felt during the journey to meet the objects, the other senses of the body permeating and disturbing the objects, and the painting tool carried on the body to paint in unpredictable environments, the memories and experiences evoked by the place he encountered, and even the meaning of the landscape of the region in the social/economic dimension. In this process, the landscape of the place in front of his eyes and experience is uniquely realized. Therefore, this small, deep colors of square painting, titled
, seems to reproduce the landscape that he sees, but in fact, it is an impression of multiple layers of narrative overlapping. The sense of place expressed in the landscapes of Gyungsu An begins to operate at the point where the individual and society, and the microscopic and macroscopic aspects intersect. The square frame, which is (usually) smaller because of the uncontrollable outdoor environment, has indescribable psychological depth, emotional temperature that is difficult to describe in explicit language, and the past and present that penetrate the moment of encountering the objects, and soon allows our gaze to cross the boundaries of the inside and outside the canvas.

Between Language and Sense
Translating language and sense to other words based on the works of Gyungsu An, it is an explanatory narrative that indicates a specific object and emotion expressed by material. He extends his perspective to the outside the frame by raising the senses surrounding the landscape he has painted, but at the same time, he does not want the landscape paintings to be consumed only at the level of indiscreet emotion. He brings back the painting that has been removed from its original place to the place where it belongs, and records it as a video in the actual landscape. His actions, which are somewhat explanatory, may partially reduce the expected impulses of the senses and liveliness as a narrative beyond the frame. It is because the more blurred the form and its origin, the clearer the realm of imagination. However, if I recall his attitude, saying that paintings are always related to real landscapes and that landscape paintings should be the part of the real landscape, it seems that he calls the anonymous landscape to keep the minimum ethical behavior as a painter to allow the subject to occupy its place that is driven to the periphery. Bringing the landscape painting to its original place and making it a part of the scene is to insert it back to the specific context of the place. Nevertheless, the real landscape and the painting cannot completely match. The gap, in the space and time created by the landscapes and the overlaps of the landscape between the original and the copy, ‘shakes’ the place, visualizes the emotion of anxiety inherent in it, and conceives another sense of loss. By leaving the place and bringing back to the place, we recognize Gyungsu An’s silent landscapes as ‘a scene of unfamiliarity and of anxiety inherent in our daily lives’.

A Separate Landscape, a Place Called ‘A Heap’
In the series of Gyungsu An’s
, there is not symbolic form or visual sign indicating the context of a specific place. Even the title ‘a heap’ does not suggest a specific story of the represented landscape. Something hidden behind the landscape is conveyed in the form of senses through the layers of painting materials and tones. The scene implies the sense of concealment as it holds the time neither day nor night, the form becomes clearer at night or collapses in the form of a shadow against light, the space and time are empty or disappearing, and the image is settled on the screen densely with moisture. The scene does not speak for itself. It is a fragment that cuts off the front and back and has not been narrated. It disappears into the air as if sliding along with an anonymous time, like an empty space that expands around the city. On the other hand, the scene itself has many possibilities. The things left out in the space are full of some kinds of emotion. is symptomatic in this respect. In this way, works of Gyungsu An reside in the moment of silence preserved by the nameless landscape. ‘A heap’ is another word for a place that has been silent. This place is for anonymous things that exist but do not exist. It is another name for the ruin scattered with grave that is pushed out of the society, city, and system, pushed from the center to the periphery. The place is allowed for things that have not been recorded. In addition, the ‘sense of loss’ inherent in the ‘a heap’ as I mentioned above is the emotion that forms the basis of Gyungsu An’s works under different names such as leftover, deficiency, exclusion, and alienation. The heap, left unnamed, brings our gaze to the empty space in reality, and reminds us of today’s order from the fragmented parts. Therefore, the landscape that he has depicted is an emptiness filled with images of absence and loss, and at the same time, it is a place allowed for the nameless.

Looking at the works of Gyungsu An, the question of ‘what to see?’ naturally moves to ‘how to see it?’ and finally leads to ‘what did I see?’. In that ‘what’, various aspects of loss and absence that we have left out under the name of today can replace the word.

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# When landscape paintings and real landscape were overlapped together, the gap in space and time is made, and Gyungsu An mentioned that as ‘shaking’ the place. To him, the landscape painting is the one that reveals the unstable state inherent in a place.