Installation view of 《Translate into Mother Tongue》 © DOOSAN Gallery

DOOSAN Gallery New York is pleased to announce a group exhibition 《다시-쓰기 Translate into Mother Tongue》, which is curated by three participants of DOOSAN Curator Workshop program in 2012, from July 25 to August 24, 2013.
 
DOOSAN Curator Workshop program is a professional nurturing program which is devoted to supporting promising new curators and developing Korean contemporary art. The program selects three new curators every year, and holds regular workshops and seminars, and an opportunity for them to co-organize an exhibition at the DOOSAN Gallery.

The 2nd DOOSAN Curator Workshop in 2012, Michelle Dayeong Choi, Michelle Soyoung Kim and Minhwa Yun were selected. Various workshops and seminars took place throughout one year, and an exhibition co-organized by the three curators was opened in January and will be opened July, 2013, jointly at DOOSAN Gallery in Seoul and New York.
 
The exhibition 《다시-쓰기 Translate into Mother Tongue》 began by examining the life and art of Theresa Hak Kyung Cha (1951-1982). For Cha—who produced a diverse range of work as a photographer, video and performance artist, and writer—“language” was of utmost importance. Her interest in language originated in her formative childhood years, during which she was required to consciously undertake the study of foreign languages such as English and French.

Cha took a profound interest in a language’s grammatical structure and systematic arrangement of characters, and accordingly realized diverse artworks that scattered characters, erased and repeated contexts, and reduced themselves to their fundamental components. Throughout this process, Cha remained fixated on the transformation of language and its meaning, as determined by its function and application.
 
Three curators invited eight artists to create artworks with the motif of Theresa Hak Kyung Cha. The curators gave the artists the book Dictee, which the artists subsequently dictated again, and encouraged the artists to incorporate a layer of Theresa Hak Kyung Cha into their own bodies of work. As such, this exhibition takes notice of the obsession with and resistance towards one’s “mother tongue” that emanated from Cha (who was herself bi-lingual and tri-lingual), and each participating artist accordingly translates this resistance and attempt at language into a new narrative.

In this exhibition, these new narratives are connected via defiant and dislocated dictation (Kichang Choi and Young Eun Keem), the collision of grammatical structures and tenses of differing memories and languages (Hong Goo Kang and Sasa Shun), the weaving together of metonymics (Sanghee Song and Young Gle Kim), and the difficulty of flawless translation (Miyeon Lee and Jihyun Jung).
 
Dictee, while meaning “dictation,” is fundamentally disrupted and dislocated in Theresa Hak Kyung Cha’s practice. Rather than settling into the basic and passive act of transcription, Cha reveals the discrepancies that arise when one fails to fully inhabit such a process, by “imperfectly” writing it out. This condition is likewise evident in Kichang Choi’s Fortune Timer. Systems such as saju or fortune-telling attempt to categorize and define life into a set of predetermined structures; yet, the work exposes the indifference inherent in such “readings,” which neglect and exile aspects of life that cannot be fully subsumed within any single category.

Young Eun Keem’s Etude for One Handed Blind transforms a Braille score based on Czerny. While Czerny’s compositions can be performed with a single hand—allowing even a physically limited performer to play—the artist imagines a performer who is both unable to use one hand and unable to see. This condition, in which one can neither reach out to read Braille nor press the keys, resonates with Cha’s experience of writing—or being unable to write—in a foreign language, as well as with the disjunction between life and the determinism of fortune-telling in Choi’s work.
 
Cha’s method of deliberately misaligning grammar and tense—repositioning past memories into the present and conflating historical events with personal recollections—is extended in the works of Hong Goo Kang and Sasa Shun. Kang’s Lost Memory draws upon family photo albums that he discovered and collected by chance in restricted development zones. After reconstructing and coloring the photographs, he briefly inscribes narratives about the anonymous figures depicted, only to erase them.

Similarly, in Shun’s Hypnosis/The Whereabouts of Stories, the artist reenacts a past war he has never experienced, based on the diary of a deceased soldier. Here, the artist’s memory overlaps with others’ photographs and diaries, rendering it impossible to distinguish whose memory it is. Both Kang and Shun raise questions about where such shared memories reside, and when a memory can be said to exist once it is reenacted in the present.
 
Within Cha’s work, the incompleteness and non-singularity of “language” are articulated through various forms of metonymy. The Korean language, Chinese characters, and anatomical diagrams derived from both Eastern and Western medicine that appear in Dictee function, for those unfamiliar with them, merely as images that resist legibility. In this sense, language is rendered as no different from abstraction, its meaning inaccessible and deferred.

This mode of linking disparate elements through a single trace of association extends into the works of Sanghee Song and Young Gle Kim. Song collects the wounds and material traces left behind by migration and dispersion across human history, unfolding them through metonymic structures—translated into postcards in postcards, and into motifs such as beavers, Hermes, and satellites in Spirit and Opportunity. Likewise, Young Gle Kim reconstructs memories of her mother by weaving together childhood fairy tales, photographs of historical figures, and folklore into a metonymic narrative.


Jihyun Jung, Two Lights, 2013 © Jihyun Jung

Through Theresa Hak Kyung Cha’s sustained linguistic experiments, her work ultimately arrives at a point where it can no longer be fully transcribed or translated into any single language. Through this process, one becomes acutely aware of the instability, non-singularity, and fragility inherent in language itself. Miyeon Lee’s Q consists of four performance sequences, documented through the enactment of the following sentences: “peeling an apple,” “eating a stone,” “riding a roller coaster blindfolded,” and “collecting night scenery.”

While these four statements appear to be seamlessly translated into action, their unintelligible nature produces a sense of precariousness and unease that cannot be easily resolved. This is because the linguistic functions embedded within the sentences generate unintended nuances as they are translated into performative acts.
 
Jihyun Jung’s Two Lights reconstructs, in painterly form, the shape of light emitted from a fluorescent lamp that has been incorrectly fitted. The fleeting moment in which an unintended light emerges—despite faulty wiring, lasting only a few seconds—resonates with the accidental processes through which language is fragmented into multiple meanings, or through which different languages are transformed within a single semantic structure.
 
Ultimately, within this exhibition, “Theresa Hak Kyung Cha” becomes both a metonym and a symbol for something that may or may not be conveyed through language—something that perhaps exists outside of language altogether. Rewritten by the eight participating artists, Cha and her artistic practice come to reveal that the notion of a complete mother tongue is ultimately an illusion, exposing instead the inevitable gaps within language through which it continually slips away from lived experience.

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