Yoo Seungho, doong, 2014 © Yoo Seungho

Yoo Seungho’s Text Paintings: Variations Embracing Repetition
 
Yoo Seungho creates forms by repeatedly writing letters or placing dots. In particular, his landscape series represents his signature “text paintings.” At first glance, they do not appear much different from traditional ink landscape paintings. However, upon closer inspection, one realizes that the image is composed of countless tiny letters that drift across the surface, densely accumulating and dispersing at once. In this way, the artist has persistently explored his own rigorous practice of traversing between text and image, language and representation, continuously negotiating the boundary between the two.
 
The first work in which he constructed an image through writing was Oh Dear, How Frightening (1997), which was based on a facial drawing he had created in 1993 under the same title. The surface of Oh Dear, How Frightening, filled with the repeated writing of a sentence, becomes a hazy and fluid image, as if ambiguous black-and-white masses were floating in the air. The facial form from the original drawing remains only as a faint trace, barely recognizable after prolonged observation, before ultimately dissolving. This suggests that in freely moving between text and image, the concrete form itself held little significance from the outset.
 
Instead, this new mode of working began to evoke qualities reminiscent of traditional East Asian ink painting. Recognizing this effect, the artist further amplified it by incorporating landscape imagery. Thus, in Ya-ho (1999), countless handwritten “ya-ho” marks gathered to form a landscape for the first time. From Shoo- (1999–2000) onward, he began producing text-based paintings that referenced canonical masterpieces—particularly Song dynasty landscapes—while introducing imitation and transformation into their structures.


Yoo Seungho, shoo, 2014 © Yoo Seungho

In particular, the natural expression of lines produced through the ink wash effects of soaking and spreading in traditional landscape painting would have resonated well with the artist’s disposition. Since his undergraduate years, he has preferred not to use clearly delineated lines, instead deliberately overlapping his subjects or gradually deconstructing their sense of form as he draws. This preference for ambiguous and non-standardized forms is embedded throughout his body of work. In terms of materials, he has consistently used paper and a Rotring pen.

While the jangji (traditional Korean paper) he primarily uses is associated with ink painting, the brush has been replaced by a pen. Although the Rotring pen itself is a Western drafting tool used for outlining, the fact that the main component of the ink it contains is meok (ink stick) reconnects it to the tradition of ink painting in an intriguing way. These materials play an essential role in realizing the artist’s distinctive use of handwriting, and thus the choice of materials reflects the artist’s disposition and aesthetic sensibility mentioned earlier.
 
Among the historical masterpieces the artist has drawn upon are the Northern Song court painters Fan Kuan and Guo Xi’s landscape works Travelers among Mountains and Streams (溪山行旅圖) and Early Spring (早春圖), as well as Dream Journey to the Peach Blossom Land (夢遊桃源圖) by An Gyeon of early Joseon. All of these works share a striking visual impact, depicting rugged mountain formations with strong contrasts of ink tones. The artist has stated that he selected these works because he was drawn to their powerful visual intensity and the energy emanating from them.

Rather than choosing them based on historical context or meaning, his selection was driven purely by his own visual intuition and sensibility. Thus, in Shoo-, he omits the low hills and shrubs in the foreground of Fan Kuan’s Travelers among Mountains and Streams, focusing instead on the towering mountain at the center of the composition, which stands like a monumental stele. Likewise, in Put Strength Here, Relax There (2003), he boldly isolates and enlarges specific sections of Guo Xi’s Early Spring. Such works, born from intuitive selection and free transformation, ultimately become Yoo Seungho’s text-based landscapes.


Yoo Seungho, yodeleheeyoo!, 2014 © Yoo Seungho

These text-based landscapes have developed in a variety of ways. In works such as Shoo- and Jureururuk (2000), the auditory and visual imagery embedded in onomatopoeia directly corresponds to the form of the work, maximizing the effect of its realization. In Am-san (1999), where repeatedly written numbers and mathematical symbols form the shape of a mountain, the artist plays with language by visualizing the double meaning of “am-san,” which can refer both to mental calculation and to a rocky mountain. In other cases, such as Put Strength Here, Relax There or works like Who Said Love, Love (2014) and About Romance (2014), in which popular song lyrics are densely written across the canvas, there is no particular correlation between the written sentences and the landscapes they produce.


Yoo Seungho, yodeleheeyoo~, 2014 © Yoo Seungho

These text-based landscapes have developed in a variety of ways. In works such as Shoo- and Jureururuk (2000), the auditory and visual imagery embedded in onomatopoeia directly corresponds to the form of the work, maximizing the effect of its realization. In Am-san (1999), where repeatedly written numbers and mathematical symbols form the shape of a mountain, the artist plays with language by visualizing the double meaning of “am-san,” which can refer both to mental calculation and to a rocky mountain.

In other cases, such as Put Strength Here, Relax There or works like Who Said Love, Love (2014) and About Romance (2014), in which popular song lyrics are densely written across the canvas, there is no particular correlation between the written sentences and the landscapes they produce.
 
Regarding the themes and modes of expression explored in this series of text paintings, Yoo Seungho has defined them with the term “Echowords,” meaning words that mimic or imitate sounds, referred to in Korean as “sinyungmal.” We see syllables, words, and sentences continuously producing sound, with their echoes returning in repetition, filling the surface with layers of resonance. Yet just as an echo never perfectly matches the original sound, each repeated inscription in his work is both the same and not the same.

A practice that moves freely across the boundary between text and image without any necessary linkage between the meaning of the written words and the forms they construct. And ultimately, a practice that dismantles that very boundary will continue to appear through various variations. The artist must remain at the forefront of this boundary, drawing out what people have not seen, what has been overlooked. As before, we anticipate that through his delicate and sensitive intuition, and his wit and humor, he will continue to reveal what has remained unseen.

References