Installation view of 《Daylight on Tiptoe》 (SeMA Storage, 2022) © Jangyeun Jun

These are things usually unseen. Only when we must lower our posture and pay attention can we sense their existence. The materials Jangyeun Jun uses for her art are like this. Whether hairpins, powder puffs, cigarette butts, mint candies, coins, or other miscellaneous items, they are easily at the bottom of the list of things in terms of their value. One wonders what stories were required of Jun for her to choose to bring these insignificant objects into her work.

Jangyeun Jun’s solo exhibition, 《Daylight on Tiptoe》, focuses on the relationship and balance of powers that intersect through the fragmented landscapes created by everyday items, and it starts from specific scenes or experiences the artist has kept an eye on. Daytime usually stands in for ordinary everyday life, yet the everyday life we see on tiptoe is not always smooth sailing.

The irregular elements between repetitive sections and the tension found in the quotidian give every day a slightly different way of perceiving. Interested in taking daily objects, reorganizing them in a way that transcends their original purposes, and conferring new relational networks upon them, Jun presents three series she has composed from her personal narratives.


Front and Back

The ‘Light of Face’ series, which consists of sculptural works and drawings leaning against the wall, focuses especially on the “surface” element of sculpture. The surface of the side, which stands in stark contrast to the black surface one sees first upon encountering the work, is filled with highly chromatic color. ‘Light of Face’ is based on an episode of the artist whose friend was concerned for her well-being upon seeing her complexion.

Based on the fact that the Chinese character myeon (面) is a pictograph of the human face, Jun attempted to explore the front and back sides of emotions through her investigation of human “faces” and “surfaces” of figures. Make-up items found sporadically throughout the surface of the work, as well as powder puffs wedged in the gaps, are all a kind of tool to cover up dark complexion.

The soft powder puffs attempt at reading a delicate emotional frequency by its ambiguity—it is not clear whether they are cornerstones barely supporting the stacked blocks or precariously squeezed between the blocks. A similar approach was first made in Jun’s 2014 work A Table for Two.

The three round table tops stained with coffee and items such as receipts and cards placed in the gaps seem to—again—point to each other’s weight in an unstable state. The everyday task of having to be aware of the front and back of a facial expression, a gesture, or an attitude and maintain a tight balance is as unsteady as the powder puffs stuck in between the blocks.


Draw breath and pause

It is only natural for the balls to roll down along a pair of diagonally installed steel pipes in the air, yet they remain static, and the spring extended almost to the full by the weight attached under it appears to fly off any moment, yet it remains still. In Pause, Jun created a kind of sculptural drawing by reassembling parts of exercise equipment related to the body, such as springs, steel pipes, bands, and strings.

Some of these objects instantly remind us of specific fitness activities like yoga or Pilates, yet their new assemblage also allows us to infer their new uses. The artist has already experimented with turning everyday objects into sculptural works in her earlier works—Public Square (2011, 2014) and Between Trees (2011)—but with Pause, Jun goes beyond merely replacing objects with the language of sculpture.

It provides momentum for the artist to bring a kind of dynamism into her work in that the work evokes the relation and hierarchy between objects and the distribution of invisible powers. This pause is the kind one takes after drawing breath, and it allows the audience to imagine the movements the objects were engaged in just before coming to a halt. Regarding this boundary between rest and motion, Jun notes that it is “comparable to life’s tension in trying to maintain and sustain something.”


A lowered gaze

Breaktime and Low Rainbow, placed on the floor of the darkest corner of the exhibition room, are representations of rainbows created by layering multiple plates of curved steel, each painted in a different color. Upon closer look, we find everyday objects such as coins, mint candies, and cigarette butts squeezed in the gaps between the steel plates.

The objects found between the plates are all “useless” items—hairbands or coins found underneath the couch while cleaning, cigarette butts, or chewing gum commonly found on the ground outside. Both works feature dark surfaces like the Light of Face series, but a closer look reveals a complex relationship between the elements that are supporting each other.

Circle Bonding, based on the bond formed between the artist and her daughter through their time together, features steel circles connected with beaded hair ties commonly used for girls. The bond formed between those who share their daily lives becomes a crucial support beam, as expressed in the metaphor of the beaded hair ties.

Night Square is likewise a work that stemmed from Jun’s experience as a parent, and it is a photographic work that shows within a 92x92cm space a scene that either looks like something seen through a microscope or a satellite image of a night sky. Disposable scraps like an eyedrop cap, small nuts and bolts, a broken silver necklace, stapler needles, and the edge of a snack bag were all individually scanned and digitally collaged. This shows a very personal routine of an artist who must make art and parent a child, but it is also a sliver of daily life common to many.

Jangyeun Jun’s works as shown here have each been produced separately but were reorganized for this exhibition in a way to present a single narrative. The aspects of everyday life depicted by the miscellaneous objects in 《Daylight on Tiptoe》 are far from monotonous or complacent.

The way in which they barely hold their respective balances by way of leaning on each other’s weight and placement is all too similar to what we find in our daily lives—with all our might on our tiptoes.

References