Gwon Osang, Untitled G-Dragon, A Space of No Name, 2015 © Gwon Osang

PEACEMINUSONE. This term encapsulates the worldview pursued by G-Dragon (27, birth name Kwon Jiyong) of the group BIGBANG. It suggests that between a peaceful, utopian world and a reality marked by lack, there exists a point of intersection where ideals and reality meet. The exhibition 《PEACEMINUSONE: Beyond the Stage》 (June 9–August 23), held at the Seosomun Main Branch of the Seoul Museum of Art, is based on this very philosophy of G-Dragon.
 
As the first curated exhibition by a pop music star to be held in a Korean museum, it has garnered significant attention. After all, who is G-Dragon? A style icon who moves fluidly between music and fashion—every song he releases dominates the music charts, and everything he wears sells out instantly.
 
At a press conference on the 8th, G-Dragon stated, “As a singer, I am constantly exposed to the public, so through directing music videos and working on album jackets, I found myself naturally learning—almost without realizing it.” He added, “I may be just a small medium, but I hope that through me, many people will come to visit the museum and experience it as an enjoyable space.” What kind of world has he created through collaborations with fourteen teams of artists from Korea and abroad?


Son Donghyun, (Portrait of) the Hip Hop, 2015 © Son Donghyun

From Munjado to Angel Sculptures: Experiencing G-Dragon’s Sensibility Through Sight

The introductory section, the (Non)fiction Museum, feels almost like a glimpse into G-Dragon’s mind. The first thing that catches the eye is a large circular clock stopped at eight o’clock. Made from clothes he once wore and emphasizing the number 8—his personal lucky number—the installation symbolically presents this space as one that exists entirely for him.

Created in collaboration with the artist group Fabriker, the space combines dim lighting with soft carpeting to evoke a dreamlike atmosphere. Even the scent, designed to stimulate the viewer’s sense of smell, was personally selected by G-Dragon—making it truly a case of “Welcome to GD World.”
 
The audio guide, recorded by G-Dragon himself, shares stories about the collection and his relationships with the artists. One notable example is Obic, an emerging artist based in New York. “I first came across him through Instagram, and later had the chance to visit his studio and build a relationship,” G-Dragon explained. “Wanting to support a young artist, I ended up collaborating with him on my second solo album.”
 
He added, “Since I’m still in the process of learning about art, I don’t have a specific standard for collecting.” However, his taste begins to emerge through works such as Tracey Emin’s neon installation I promise to love you, which he says resonated deeply with him given his tendency to write about love in his lyrics, and Jason Martin’s Fetish, a sensual swirling composition rendered in a single color on aluminum rather than canvas.

His favorite work, he noted, is a reinterpretation of Gerrit Rietveld’s Red-Blue Chair—recreated in najeonchilgi (mother-of-pearl lacquerware) in collaboration with master craftsman Bae Myungju. This suggests that beyond simply viewing, collecting, and enjoying art, we may eventually encounter him as a designer who creates his own works.
 
The exhibition expands the temporal and spatial universe of PEACEMINUSONE while illuminating G-Dragon as an artist from multiple perspectives. The architectural firm SoA has even transformed the staircase connecting the second and third floors into part of the exhibition space. By reconfiguring scaffolding typically used behind temporary stages and moldings familiar to painters, the structure becomes a passage that connects the virtual and the real.
 
The space for conveying messages and images is not confined to the canvas. Artist Son Donghyun interprets hip-hop—G-Dragon’s primary artistic domain—through the most traditional East Asian format: munjado (文字圖). The six letters of “HIPHOP” are transformed into a portrait that encompasses around twenty figures, from 2PAC, a defining artist of the 1990s, to contemporary rapper Kendrick Lamar, offering a panoramic view of hip-hop history at a glance.
 
A similar logic applies to the fragmented fantasy of French artist Fabien Verschaere. Thirty words selected by G-Dragon are organized into opposing pairs such as “life” and “death.” The work resonates with Verschaere’s recurring motif of hybrid monsters—born from his childhood experiences of frequent illness and hospitalization—and aligns strikingly with G-Dragon’s ongoing contemplation of identity, caught between his stage persona and his real self, Kwon Jiyong.
 
There are also works that fans will find especially compelling. Artist Gwon Osang, known for transforming flat photographs into sculptural photo-objects, has assembled images of G-Dragon circulating online into a monumental sculpture depicting Saint Michael the Archangel battling the devil.

Mirrors installed throughout the work endlessly reflect one another, layering the duality of good and evil with the dichotomy of subject and object, prompting viewers to reflect. “We developed the idea over nearly a year of discussion, from planning to production,” Kwon said. “G-Dragon has a particular interest in meteorites, so we even referenced the same book and incorporated imagery from it,” he added, sharing his thoughts on the collaboration.


Installation view of 《PEACEMINUSONE: Beyond the Stage》 © SeMA

“If even one artist or one artwork becomes known through me, I would be satisfied.”

However, not all aspects of the exhibition unfold with consistency. Beyond the fact that the fourteen participating artists each possess distinct practices, in some cases it is difficult to identify a clear connection to G-Dragon. For instance, Captive by London-based Italian artist Quayola is a sculpture carved by a robot in Korea based on a digital design by the artist.

While it is meaningful as one of the first attempts at digital fabrication in Korea, the explanation that its point of connection lies in the shared global circulation of G-Dragon through social media—and the diverse ways in which he is aesthetically consumed—feels somewhat strained.
 
Similarly, the work of American artist Michael Scoggins, the only participating artist who did not know who G-Dragon was, appears to connect to him solely through the lyric “I can’t breathe.” Even this phrase originates from the last words of Eric Garner, who died due to excessive police force in the United States last year, raising further questions about how such a connection should be interpreted. The mixture of pre-existing works and newly commissioned pieces also contributes to a sense of disjunction.
 
Kim Hong-hee, director of the Seoul Museum of Art, who curated the exhibition at the suggestion of YG Entertainment, remarked, “Post-museum curation regards exhibitions as interpretive texts, prioritizes contemporaneity over the asset value of artworks, and advocates cross-genre practices,” adding that “this exhibition will serve as a compelling example demonstrating the convergence of high art and popular culture.”

However, the comparison to global figures such as British musician David Bowie or Icelandic artist Björk—whom Kim cited as precedents—inevitably differs in texture, as their practices are built upon decades of accumulated artistic legacy.
 
That said, G-Dragon’s own defense carries a certain validity. Just as he composed his new track “BAE BAE” inspired by the work of Francis Bacon, yet cannot precisely pinpoint which part of the song reflects that influence, art by nature tends to permeate rather than overtly declare itself. His aspiration is, in fact, quite modest: “For those who have never studied art beyond school classes, if they come to the museum because of me, and even casually come to know the name of one artist or one artwork, wouldn’t that itself be a form of learning?”

Much like the line from his solo track “Coup d’Etat”—“The revolution will not be televised. The revolution is in your mind. The revolution is here”—his effort toward change deserves to be fully supported. After all, some kind of stepping stone is necessary before one can cross the high threshold of contemporary art and encounter works that truly move the heart. Everyone has a beginning.

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