Yoo Seungho, she-, 2013 © Yoo Seungho

Words that Toss and Turn Around, the Faltering End of a Century
 
"I think I have been inspired by Il pleut by Apollinaire, aFrench poet, and his calligraphic work in the beginning of my artistic practice in 1997."
 
The words congregate like a thick cloud and drop off like heavy rain, wetting the dry ground. It is probably not a dry ground, but parched images. Something of Apollinaire's spirit is reminded. But this does not talk of the fact of being 'messengered.' The word 'as if' refers to the unclear impression, an impression that something was there at that time and place. The fate of the world runs without any regard to my thoughts or destiny. It is like a worldly spirit and history at the end of the century, like an unidentifiable entity like a ghost or a shadow.
 
Like Apollinaire who lived the end of 19th century and the beginning of 20th century and took part in the 1stWorld War, Yoo Seungho crossed the transition of 20th century to 21st century. The poetic words of obsessive and hyper-real nature link to hyper-real watercolor painting composed of endless words. It looks as if part of an image has been blown up by a microscope.
 
Yoo Seungho senses the destiny of the end of the century 10 years after the numerical end of the century, the pop culture's version of the end of the century. This 'belatedness' is like a thunder, a shimmer of light across the sky. It is a certain contact occurring among multiple nuclear explosions.
 
"...feels like my head is about the burst. Cerebral hemorrhage … water is flowing. Natural. (from natural)"
 
"things are collapsing, the ash from the nuclear explosion rustles down from the air, holding the sorrow of the end of the century, the center of one's heart is falling…...(from Wususususu)"
 
According to the poet Jeongran Kim's Return of the Word, there was always a crazy woman anywhere one goes. The reason is that it is because the woman does not have her own words. The craziness felt from the artist is perhaps due to the absence of expression verifying one's language, image, and existence. Craziness is perhaps another façade of love.

The eye that looks into the things that do not exist in the reality, immersing itself in the invisible things and becoming one. One can only get to feel things once one is freed from the eyes, the spirit, and language of the convention and everyday life. This is not an effort to achieve a certain purpose. In the lunacy of love, senses,consciousness, and words become rearranged. Hence, lunacy is a kind of omen that something is trying to born from the artist's mind and hands.
 
"...it is cut off then reborn into another lifeform. To a smaller form of life... dying and dying…..(From She)"
 
"This body breaks off thousands and million times. It stands up again like roly poly doll with heavy bottom… it is scattered away, scattered away fragile. (from Rose of Sharon is Blooming)"
 
"But it still continues… But it still spins again.. repeating the motion, making another round, and I look at myself who is different. Is this creation? (from Spring)"
 
And the words run themselves, making another around, and running themselves again, making yet another round. The operation of words is like an orbit, metaphorized into world's journey and traces of wheels.
 
The language of the artist is mingled with dementia, chaos,destruction, and empty hopes of regeneration. With an impending new era, or ina transitional period, everything is chaotic and newly rearranged. However,such process can be hard and painful, especially for people who are sensitive. The result naturally progresses to a dismantling of old order from the center. Such process is revealed directly through images and language. The assignment of artists in the respective period is to document and reproduce the fundamental changes taking place.
 
"Burn it and burn it again.. Blow away all the trivial things in the head. Shatter them into million pieces...(from Burn)"
 
One does not grow by just experiencing and accepting with sensitive senses. (Of course, they say some does not have to grow, they are just born in complete form, but I have never witnessed it). The artist looks through the accepted things. Unfortunately, for this reason, the artist is already embracing failure. Like the last scene of 'Chuihwasun', one jumps into flames of self-destruction.

Even though it may be a vain illusion, one shall rise again like Phoenix. The artist aims to harden oneself by confronting and clashing with his subjects, but this is not an easy task. Through the strength to puncture the wall and process of creation, one becomes a greater person. The artist throws in many questions to oneself and murmurs the spell. 'Break it,break it'. Where can art be found?
 
The movement imposed by the images renders the work calm and reflective. The artist only functions as a beginning point. There is no need to trace his life trying to pinpoint the personal background leading of certain expressions of choice. The faltering, awkward, and uncomfortable combination of words cannot be seen as a kind of playfulness but rather a painful cry. Curvy,twisted, and faltering march of the words is the voice and the spell of the artist. Carrying the problem projected by the artist, I fuse and clash existential conditions.
 
Theodore Adorno contended that theory must focus on slanted,unclear, and elusive things. Because, as much as these things may be of trial-and-errornature, it can cleverly defeat the scheme of the historical dynamic relationships. Because of such reason, it cannot grow old and irrelevant. However,this does not mean that such young, vibrant, age-defying, regenerative force that can go against the elaborately planned history is confined to theoretical realm. There must be ambiguous forces at play in the profound origin of the theories or the marginal boundary of the theories.

And this is a theoretical thing that makes the theory pulse, but, at the same time, it is a practical thing, a movement with destructive and dismantling force, which goes through changes and creation. The retrogressive words uttered by the artist, the words that bring up logical collapse represent discomfort over our art world that has been built in the past on short-term basis with projected sense of elegant impressions. Like a sharp blade of a knife, the words of the artists bled two drops of blood, and brought about spells for interaction rather than ownership.

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