Artist Atta Kim © Atta Kim

A massive lift draped in red fabric slowly rises. Atta Kim appears, dressed in his trademark black Chinese-collar suit.

Professor Lee Juhyang of Suwon University bows toward him. Another woman asks, “Who are you?” One person runs alongside him, while another watches the scene blankly.

Moments later, amid the cheers of the audience who had been holding their breath, ten thousand photographs are scattered into the air. Printed on traditional Korean hanji paper, the images glide softly before falling into the canal and drifting along the waterways. In the early summer heat, and with crowds gathered from around the world to witness the performance, the fervor of Venice intensified even further.

This was the opening scene of photographer Atta Kim’s special exhibition, held at Palazzo Zenobio in Venice at 1:00 p.m. on June 5, 2009.
Held in conjunction with the 53rd Venice Biennale, the special exhibition unfolded over a full six months, through November, presenting fifteen years of Atta Kim’s artistic journey. His participation in this special exhibition marked a significant event in the history of Korean art.

Unlike the main Biennale exhibitions, where each country presents its official representatives, the special exhibitions are determined through intense international competition among artists, making the invitation particularly meaningful. Although there had been an exhibition by Lee Ufan, a Korean artist based in Japan, in 2005, that exhibition was proposed by Japan. Atta Kim thus became the first artist to participate in this special exhibition as an official representative of Korea.

The ten thousand photographs used in the opening performance were selected from images Atta Kim had taken throughout Rome. Rome—a city regarded as the origin of Western civilization and as possessing eternal preservation value—was dispersed into the air through his performance. This provocative act condensed the essence of his artistic world. Filling the vast exhibition hall of Palazzo Zenobio were works from 'Deconstruction'(1991–1995), 'Museum Project'(1995–2001), and 'ON-AIR Project'(2002–2009), which once again evoked awe and admiration.

The installation alone took over two weeks to complete. Viewed closely, his artistic universe unfolds with remarkable logic, as though guided by a long-prepared script. Indeed, Atta Kim possesses the power of deep contemplation—the tenacious ability to translate lucid philosophical thought into art that can be seen and felt. This, above all else, is what made him a world-class artist.

“It feels comfortable, like laying down a burden I had been carrying,” Atta Kim remarked immediately after successfully completing the opening event.

He is physically imposing—185 centimeters tall. His laughter is hearty, his stride large, his thoughts expansive. Even when seated quietly, he exudes a powerful charisma rarely encountered in ordinary people. Yet his smile is gentle and benevolent, as though embracing the entire world. During a brief return to Korea amid his extensive international activities, I visited his studio in Pyeongchang-dong. He extended his hand energetically and greeted me with a firm handshake.

Originally an engineering student with a greater interest in literature and philosophy, Atta Kim began working with a camera in the 1980s. His father, an elementary school teacher, initially could not accept his son’s choice. After ten long years of wandering, father and son were finally reconciled. Kim recalls, “My father taught me to pay attention to ordinary, seemingly insignificant things—stones by the roadside or mayflies that live for a day.

He was my greatest spiritual anchor.” For Kim, the most important issue has always been the human “spirit.” In search of it, he traveled across the country photographing miners, atomic bomb victims, psychiatric patients, and many others. It was also during this period that he began photographing figures designated as Human Cultural Heritage holders.

Even a small reproduction of his portrait of Kim Geum-hwa, Korea’s foremost shaman, radiates an intense spiritual force. While persuading her to allow the photograph, Kim declared, “I must see the spirit with my eyes and touch it with my hands.” Everything he has done since has been the fulfillment of that youthful declaration.


Atta Kim, Museum Project #019 - Field series, 1997 © Atta Kim

The 'Deconstruction' series, in which nude figures are arranged in fields like seeds being sown and photographed, conveys a warning that progress devoid of spirit leads only to destruction. The 'Museum Project', initiated in 1995, presents radical images of prostitutes from red-light districts and disabled war veterans posed inside acrylic boxes like museum monuments. These works transform the weak and the insignificant into eternal beings, akin to museum artifacts.

They also represent a mature articulation of his philosophy that every individual is a microcosm of the universe. To photograph a woman seated like a Buddha with a shaved head, he first attempted to persuade the model to shave her head, but ultimately shaved his own. It was during this period that his now-iconic appearance—shaved head and round glasses—was formed. However, scenes combining Christian and Buddhist iconography, or depicting a man and woman making love inside an acrylic box upon first meeting, shocked the Korean art world at the time of their release.


Atta Kim, Museum Project #019 - Field series, 1997 © Atta Kim

“I grew up consuming grand existentialist discourse. That’s why people say my work is heavy and difficult.” Even those who recognized the aesthetic achievements of his work believed that Atta Kim’s art did not align with the logic of the Korean art market. Yet these difficulties and misunderstandings did not defeat him. His formidable mental strength sustained him. The discipline he calls “image training” made him even stronger.

“Image training is a method of confirming my own existence by conversing with objects. It is the most important principle of my life and artistic practice. Through this training, I realized that the most frightening obstacle in the search for a new world is preconceived notions.”
 


Works that embody the philosophy that “eventually, everything disappears”

From the beginning, Atta Kim walked with long strides. His name “Atta” (我他) means “you and I are the same”; if “you” is interpreted as the universe, it implies “I am the universe.” This name, which encapsulates the core philosophy of his work, proved more accessible to international audiences than his birth name, Kim Seok-jung. Deep understanding of his work began abroad.

In 2002, the British art publisher Phaidon selected him as one of the “100 Photographers of the World,” chosen every four years. In 2005, the internationally renowned photography publisher Aperture published his photobook at a cost of 200,000 dollars. In 2006, Atta Kim held a solo exhibition at the International Center of Photography (ICP) in New York, the epicenter of contemporary art.

The ICP exhibition received extensive coverage in The New York Times, marking Atta Kim’s successful entry onto the global contemporary art stage. Christopher Phillips, the curator of the exhibition, accurately interpreted Kim’s work, stating that its enthusiastic reception in New York stemmed from its ability to address the city’s spiritual and philosophical void. Indeed, the work of an artist nourished by philosophy resonated deeply in New York.

Among the exhibited works, the most shocking were three photographs capturing the gradual melting of an ice sculpture bust of Mao Zedong. By doing so, he dissolved and erased a socialist idol—an act of iconoclasm more powerful than any other. 'Monologue Ice', which involved sculpting objects from ice and photographing their dissolution, astonished the global photography community.


Atta Kim, On-Air Project #113, Monologue Ice, portrat of Mao, 2006 © Atta Kim

If 'Museum Project' declared that “all things possess the value of existence,” 'ON-AIR Project' conversely demonstrates that “all things eventually disappear.” Works created using eight-hour long exposures within 'ON-AIR Project' left a particularly strong impression. In photographs of New York’s Times Square taken with eight-hour exposures, the bustling crowds vanish, leaving only wave-like traces.

These images do not depict empty squares, but rather the remnants of disappearance itself. Following his successful entry into New York, his works entered the collections of Microsoft (Bill Gates), the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, and the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, elevating his stature as an artist. His stride as a global artist grew even larger, and the Venice special exhibition further solidified his reputation.

The eight-hour long-exposure works extended to New York, Beijing, Berlin, Delhi, and Moscow. However, these works revealed only the relative aspects of truth: what disappeared were ultimately those with shorter lifespans—people and moving entities—while buildings remained. In this sense, the most astonishing body of work is 'Indala'. First presented at his solo exhibition at Rodin Gallery in Seoul in 2008, the series depicts everything dissolving into gray.

Encountering this work, I felt a piercing pain in my chest at the insignificance and finitude of my own existence. It was a moment of religious sublimity before a work of art. “Indala” is a compound of “India” and “Mandala.” Kim photographed India’s most vibrant markets ten thousand times and digitally composited the images, resulting in a hazy gray field. Emptiness (空)! Is there another work that visualizes the Buddhist principle “form is emptiness” so precisely? “In the West, space means emptiness, but in the East, emptiness is fullness. I wanted to confirm this through my work,” he explained.

When this work was first shown in Korea, actress Kim Hye-soo reportedly wept upon seeing it. A devoted admirer of Atta Kim, she flew to Venice to attend the opening.

The invitation card for the special exhibition featured images from 'Monologue Ice', depicting an ice sculpture of the Parthenon slowly melting. Dispersing Rome into the air and melting the Parthenon at the heart of Western civilization—these provocative gestures constitute Atta Kim’s artistic attempt to demonstrate the depth and inclusiveness of Eastern philosophy.

He states, “Every individual is precious. Each contains the universe. Yet, in the end, everything disappears.” His voice will resound powerfully among art lovers worldwide. Icons of Western culture and absolute rulers alike will eventually vanish. Yet Atta Kim’s legacy seems unlikely to fade anytime soon.

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