Installation view of 《Hybrid Ground》 © Zaha Museum

Where can the origin of hybrids be found? In the history of the Western world, nature before modern times was described under the anthropomorphic belief that it was the creation of gods. During that time, everything was given a vertical hierarchy based on the degree of purity, symbolizing the gods' light, and to maintain an unshakable belief in the light, a binary thought process that clearly categorized things other than purity was necessary. As a result, in ancient and medieval natural histories, imaginary creatures appeared as colossal mutations, crossbreeds, impure hybrids, etc., serving as allegories of negativity at the lowest level of order.
 
In this way, the hybrids from the distant past, before the development of science and technology, emerged as phantasms created by human imagination and senses, serving as metaphors conveying religious and moral teachings, portraying them as monstrous creatures of evil. However, as we moved past the era of scientific revolution and reached the 19th century, Charles Darwin's declaration "Natura non facit saltum" ("Nature does not make leaps") marked a turning point, and nature came to be regarded as belonging to the realm of reality, while the monstrous beings that embodied humanity's primal darkness gradually disappeared into ancient legends and mythologies.
 
Humanity has accelerated the development of science and technology and fully dominated nature, achieving a safe and prosperous life. However, ironically, at some point, we unintentionally encounter even more vivid monsters. These are the landscapes of new hybrids created by the combination of artificial and natural elements. They include the grey skies filled with fine dust, mutant organisms born from radiation, oceans tainted black from oil spills, and garbage islands formed by accumulated plastic waste. Unlike mythical phantasmal creatures or inhuman entities, these monsters are distinctly human-made, a fusion of artificial materials and nature. They represent the profound human fear towards the innermost origin of the world. The rational worldview and scientific advancements that humanity has built to overcome this fear have now become a situation where they directly threaten human life.
 
Continuing the past binary thinking, we can ask the following questions: Which monsters should remain on this land, and which ones should be expelled? However, in the current era where we coexist in a new ecosystem created by the combination of nature and artificial elements, it is difficult to completely separate anything as an object of evil. For a peaceful future, what we need now is not the reproduction of old hatred but the courage to "see differently," in other words, to erase the negative affect associated with the hybrids that have accumulated from a human-centered perspective and face the ambiguous entities within our world in a new way.
 
Now, 《Hybrid Ground》 seeks to propose a journey towards an unknown land where the existing binary order centered on Western metaphysics is deconstructed through contemporary artworks. It delves into reflections on the entities within the world that humanity has categorized, the fears resulting from the natural disasters caused by this categorization, and the reality where we must increasingly come closer and coexist with nature-artificial hybrids as time goes by. Enduring the rough tidal waves and earthquakes that arise, what will this new land we arrive at look like? Whether it is a simulation or reality, within this world, there will be no outdated misconception that discrimination and exclusion of specific entities bring about peace, nor will there be any lists of others.

Installation view of 《Hybrid Ground》 © Zaha Museum

Oh Jei-sung has been transforming everyday objects into sculptures within the realm of art, recording microcosms of individuals and society. The Time Navigation of a Sculptor (~2023) is a work where the artist has arranged all the sculptures he has created from preliminary sketches to the present on a structure reminiscent of a raft. It originates from the artist's imagination of a sculptor adrift on the sea of a future where the concept of 'time' has vanished. The sculptor, who places each sculpture on the crude raft in the vast open sea, primarily represents the artist himself or any artist who reflects on their own work. However, by expanding the keywords of memory, ocean, and future, this can also be seen as a metaphor for contemporary humanity, transcending the flow of time, reflecting on various past social systems and beliefs during this crisis era of the Anthropocene, and leaping towards a better future.

In Nam Jinu's paintings, a giant squid resembling an animated character appears alongside a hero. Under the composition reminiscent of medieval iconography and elaborate decorations, they seem to depict a classical hero narrative of the hero defeating the alpha predator, the man-eater, to restore peace in human society. However, upon closer examination in The Saga of the Monsters: A feast of glory (2023), the giant squid with its massive size blinks its eyes with a mixture of uncertainty, seemingly questioning why it is designated as a monster, appearing both threatening and enigmatic. On the other hand, the heroes with white wings like angels in Predator (2023) display the cruelty of either the squid or the humans, devouring each other. The artist, in this way, challenges the fixed hierarchical structure of existence, from ancient times to the present, which has been defined by gods, angels, humans, and monsters, and deconstructs classical narratives with a sense of lightness. Through this, it makes us reflect on the fact that what we live in is not a sacred 'heaven' but a worldly 'earth,' a murky world that cannot be divided into good and evil through a binary framework.
 
Choi Suin's paintings, such as Look at that (2020) and A Wish (2023), depict natural landscapes that evoke images of water, mountains, clouds, and more. Rather than being peaceful, these scenes are somewhat ambiguous and difficult to grasp. According to the artist's explanation, the landscapes he paints are actually "fake nature" filled with colors, shapes, and forms that do not reproduce any specific object on Earth. Despite being named as fake, they vividly resemble entities that have been suppressed and disappeared as shadows after the invention of logical and symbolic symbols represented by language. In the past, ancient people included sensory impressions and inner psychology experienced through seeing, hearing, and feeling along with existing objects as part of nature. Choi Suin's Gas Play (2023) is like a one-act play where colors and emotions from an era before the formation of rational hierarchies and concepts coexist with natural subjects. Within the indeterminate screens that cannot be easily defined, we practice looking at the world in a way that steps outside the formula of being human-subjects.

Under the exploration of the attributes of representation and reproduction in photography, Lee Myung-ho has been continuously presenting the "Photography-Act-Project" that combines canvas and nature to reveal the hidden value of the subjects. The works showcased in this exhibition are glimpses of how human-machine-nature collectively shapes the world. Work View; Tree #18_4 (2021) shows a scene of installing a canvas behind a tree to create a "painting-like photograph." In a more conceptual piece, [drənæda]_Nothing But #1 (2020), Lee Myung-ho uses ink to take a photograph on white paper and then scrapes it away, presenting an empty white screen. Through this, the artist suggests the paradox that an empty world, representing human desire to grasp and possess through sight, can reveal more. The white screen evolves from the outdoor installation Untitled #1_2 (2019) into three-dimensional form, offering a hybrid experience where the medium of photography and reality intertwine like the mythological Ariadne's thread in a labyrinth.
 
Moojin Brothers have been constructing fictions about peripheral subjects scattered throughout Korean society, crossing the boundaries between reality and fantasy in their media works. The Trace of the Box - Now, Curiosity About the world (2018) juxtaposes about 23 sentences from Jules Verne's novel "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea" with our current image of observing aquariums from high-rise buildings in Seoul. Through this juxtaposition, they raise questions about the contemporaneity of the thought system and civilization that humanity has steadily accumulated. Ground Zero (2021) goes beyond diagnosing the present in which we live and warns about humanity's future of reverting to past thinking with rigid attitudes. The model human's life, facing its final moments in an indeterminate land and era amid storms, symbolizes contemporary individuals who, even amidst escalating natural disasters following the pandemic, cannot change their existing attitudes and beliefs. Through these works, Moojin Brothers reflect on the point humanity has reached, where various ecosystems on Earth are being destroyed, threatening life, and where humans must move beyond their conventional beliefs and knowledge systems to perceive the world differently.
 
Chang Hanna has been working with various types of plastic waste that undergo weathering processes in natural environments, gradually becoming mineralized. Scientifically referred to as "plasticglomerate," "pyroplastic," and "plasticsphere," the artist bestows upon these subjects the name "New Rock," infusing them with delicate contemplation and craftsmanship. Between aesthetic awe and human reflection, the New Rocks evoke peculiar sensations, and through an outdoor installation that capitalizes on the spatial characteristics of the museum, they offer an intriguing approach to hybridity. The piece New Nature_ Ants in New Rock (2023) blends an ecosystem shaped by artificial materials and ants, exploring hybrid combinations of human, object, and living entities that go beyond mutually harmful impacts to create new relationships. Additionally, New Land Art (2023), situated near Inwangsan, positions New Rocks collected from the coastline amidst grass, trees, and rocks, blurring the boundaries between artificial and natural, prompting contemplation about the ocean and forest's future.

Park Haeul is an SF novelist who has been actively participating in various anthologies, including the novel "Gipa" (2018) and "The Papillon by Your Side" (2022). In this exhibition, he presents the short story "The next things to do ( )," where an elderly man named Ahn Jin is the protagonist. While immigrating to a strange asteroid called B632, Ahn Jin faces a desperate situation of being stranded on the planet after an accident, fleeing from a pursuing monster. However, at some point, he discovers clues about the monster's true identity and the secrets surrounding the planet, leading Ahn Jin to find a new way of life. This story intertwines SF imagination about the future unfolding on the unfamiliar planet and past human fixed beliefs, considering monsters as hybrids, impure beings, and objects of evil. It presents an intriguing narrative that is closely related to the overall exhibition's theme and world view.

References