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| Park Ju Seok, a professor of the Research Institute for the Visual Language of Korea at Myongji University, and an archivist of 20th-century Korean photography, poses at the Art Space Eonju Round in Seoul's Gangnam District, Feb. 22. In this touring exhibition, which will continue in Gwangju and Daegu in the coming months, 50 historic vintage and original photographic prints produced from the 1920s to the 1980s from his "Jipyung Collection" have been unveiled to the public for the first time. Nearly 30 pieces from the collection will also travel to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art in September. Korea Times photo by Choi Won-suk |
Collection shows modern-era Korean photographers' pursuit of truth
By Park Han-sol
Whether it is employed in the field of science, art or media, the term "photography" ― essentially meaning "drawing with light" ― encapsulates a strictly technical process.
However, the very first Korean encounter with photographic images ― recorded in Yi Hang-eok's 1863 journal entry of "Yeonhaeng Ilgi," when a team of envoys from the Joseon Kingdom (1392-1910) visited the Russian legation in Beijing ― gave rise to the usage of the term, "sajin," to describe the never-before-seen technology with a philosophical twist.
Originating from the Chinese characters ― "sa" meaning transcription and "jin" signifying truth ― the word translates to "transcription of truth," according to Oh Hye-ri's article titled, "Translating 'Photography': The Migration of the Concept of Sajin from Portraiture to Photography," published in the 2015 issue of "History of Photography."
It is worthy to note that "sajin" was not a newly coined term affected by the Western understanding of photography, Oh explains. Rather, it had appeared in literature dating back to the Goryeo (918-1392) and Joseon dynasties to refer to long-established Korean practices of painted portraiture, which aimed to depict both the lifelike external appearance and the inner spiritual essence of the subject.
By defining a photographic image not just as a technical representation of reality, but that of spiritual truth, the term then begs the question: what exactly is supposed to be the "truth" immortalized in a snapshot?
This question is one inquiry brought forth by Park Ju Seok, a professor of the Research Institute for the Visual Language of Korea at Myongji University.
"'Jin,' or truth, can never be a fixed concept. It's rather an ever-changing idea that provides insight into the essence of a particular era. A photographers' job is to pursue what they see as the 'spiritual truth' of their own times and turn it into an aesthetic form," he told The Korea Times in a recent interview.
"In other words, photography is not simply a technique. It's a tool for one to go on a continuous search for truth and transcribe it physically."
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| Lim Seok-je's "Coal Miners" (1955) / Courtesy of the Jipyung Collection |
Last November, Park published a comprehensive survey into the country's photographic history from the technology's introduction during the 19th-century period of imperialist expansion to the present-day era, aptly titled, "The History of Korean Photography."
As an archivist and analyst of 20th-century Korean photography, he also maintains the Jipyung Collection, an assortment of 1,266 rare glass plate negatives, vintage and original prints produced from the 1920s to the 1980s that have been amassed by him, as well as his mentor, the pioneering photographic historian, Choi In-jin.
"A majority of the pieces have been donated by the photographers themselves," he said. "Back then, they couldn't possibly imagine that a vintage print could be considered a work of art. When Choi visited them in person, many of the artists were moved ― even to the point of weeping ― to hear that their names would be forever recorded in history."
Collecting the prints was, quite literally, like finding a buried treasure chest. Some were piled up haphazardly in several boxes that used to store cheap dress shirts. Others were shoved deep in the corner of a shabby storage space, gathering dust, or even growing mold, for years until news of redevelopment finally hit the photographer's residence.
Among this hard-earned vintage collection, a total of 50 black-and-white photographic prints of great historical significance were unveiled before the eyes of the Korean public for the first time early this year at the Art Space Eonju Round in Seoul's Gangnam District.
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| Shin Nak-kyun's "Photograph of Choi Seung-hui (1911-1969)" (1930) / Courtesy of the Jipyung Collection |
On display are original prints developed by Shin Nak-kyun, widely known as a photo editor of Dong-A Ilbo who challenged the authorities during the Japanese colonial era by eliminating all traces of the Japanese flag from the image of Sohn Kee-chung's shirt after his victory as the 1936 Berlin Olympic marathon winner. Other featured artists include Lim Seok-je, who pursued the new dimension of realism through his creative snapshots of coal miners, and Han Young-soo, who documented the everyday street scenes of Seoul after the 1950-53 Korean War.
As suggested by its title, "From 'Sa' to 'Jin,'" the exhibition offers a glimpse into some of the modern-era photographers and their visual search for the "spiritual truth" as they went against the popular trends that dominated the fields of established and amateur photography in Korea.
"The biggest problem that plagued Korea's modern cultural history, especially from the 1950s to the late '80s, was that artistic trends were largely dominated by the players' devotion to the limited channel of cultural information coming from overseas," the professor stated. "In the case of photography, they were dictated by the influence of Japan during the colonial era and that of the United States after the country's liberation."
After national liberation, what was in demand among photographers were styles pursued not by experimental, challenging and innovative works, but photojournalistic styles resembling those featured in popular magazines ― LIFE, Look and Paris Match, among others ― that often came out of U.S. military bases. As these styles became a source of mainstream inspiration, they started drowning out other voices that tried to pursue aesthetic diversity.
But despite such a seeming lack of diversity, Park pointed out that there were artists who succeeded in encapsulating the "jin" of their own times. Jung Hae-chang's 1929 "Portrait of Lady" is one example.
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| Jung Hae-chang's "Portrait of Lady" (1929, printed in 1995 by Koo Bohn-chang) / Courtesy of the Jipyung Collection |
The photo in question is far from appearing three-dimensional, steering away from the typical style of the glamour portraits seen in Western media at the time, developed to maximize the beauty of the subject's physical features with specific lighting for highlighting the curve of each face.
"As the Vogue magazine-like style became popularized among Korean photographers during the latter 20th century, they started using the same type of glamour lighting, which was not quite suitable for the typical East Asian facial features," he said. "They ended up resorting to heavy makeup and even plastic surgery to give an artificial contour. In other words, there was no thought being given to investigate visually what Joseon's unique beauty might be."
Unlike these photos of the 1950s onwards, Jung's earlier portrait adopts a flat lighting that, rather than dramatically highlighting a nose bridge, sunken eyes and cheekbones, is more subtle, suiting the delicate facial features of a Korean woman, using a white "jeogori" (upper garment) as well as a "dugeon" (hair covering) to bring out the entire face.
The model's gaze is also directed not at the audience but sideways beyond the frame, another point of departure from the classic glamour shot.
"The subject doesn't seem to represent a specific individual but rather, the idea of the restrained beauty itself of Joseon women," the professor noted.
"This kind of scene, subject and technique visualizing the iconic spirit and value that remain particular to that era is what I would call 'jin.'"
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| Hyun Il-yeong's "Ashtray" (1961, printed in 1986 by Joo Myong-duck) / Courtesy of the Jipyung Collection |
Hyun Il-yeong is another acclaimed artist that has captured the "spiritual truth" of his time, Park argues.
Pointing at an image of a worn-out ashtray with a crumpled up box of the now-discontinued cigarette brand, Arirang, the professor asked if anyone would have thought that such an object was worthy of being photographed in the first place during the 1960s when the camera was still an item of luxury.
The same went for a photo showing a rotten apple cut in half, placed on a creased, used sheet of paper. One day, Hyun bought a couple of apples from the market, only to discover that one was rotten at the core when he cut it open. Instead of dismissing it as garbage, he carefully positioned the fruit on the wrapper.
During the 1960s, when Korea was still reeling from the aftermath of the Korean War, vinyl wrappers weren't available. Instead, products were usually wrapped using discarded scrap paper from U.S. military bases or post offices glued together in the shape of an envelope or bag. In the photo, it was a piece of paper with unknown serial numbers written on it ― a telegraph communication that was transformed into a temporary bag to carry apples.
But even within such images, an important trace of history and the creator's masterful compositional skills can, in fact, be witnessed.
"To the photographer, the spiritual truth of his era was based on the element of mundaneness. An object that he encounters and uses every day ― that's what was the most truthful to him," Park said.
"It's an image that reveals a particular cultural and temporal aspect of Korean society, but with an aesthetic elegance. This is what I could call the 'jin' of his era."
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| Hyun Il-yeong's "Apple" (1956, printed in 1998 by Joo Myong-duck) / Courtesy of the Jipyung Collection |
While the Seoul edition of the touring exhibition, "From 'Sa' to 'Jin,'" ended last week, it is scheduled to kick off at Gallery Hyeyum in Gwangju this month and at Art Space LUMOS in Daegu in April.
In addition, 28 pieces from the Jipyung Collection will travel to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA) in September as part of the exhibition, "The Space Between: The Modern in Korean Art," a rare survey of modern Korean paintings, sculpture and photography from 1900 to 1965. In fact, this is the first time that works of art from Korea's early 20th century are getting the spotlight at a major museum in the United States.
Asked why there has been increasing demand for modern-era Korean art forms and photography from museums overseas in recent years, the archivist said that same question had also crossed his mind.
"In a way, we can attribute this to the popularity of the likes of BTS and 'Parasite.' As Korean popular culture has taken the global stage by storm, many scholars and enthusiasts have apparently expressed their interest in examining how the modern art and perspective in Korea led to the now ― because contemporary art couldn't have suddenly appeared out of a void," he said, citing his meeting with LACMA's associate curator of Korean Art, Virginia Moon.
And having a touring exhibition in Korea and the U.S. as a chance to encounter in person the vintage photographic prints attesting to what 20th-century Korea was like is meaningful in more ways than one.
In addition to their obvious historical significance as the visual records of a woefully underrepresented period of the country, Park said that there are aesthetic and sentimental elements that can only be felt by coming across the original prints in person, ones that can't be convincingly witnessed in reprinted or ink-printed versions.
"Vintage prints contain, quite literally, the photographic technology of a particular era that went into developing the negatives, along with the unique characteristics of the print materials ― like gelatin silver ― and the photographers' aesthetic sensibilities in their original form."
It's one way to encounter the essence of the artists' soul and what they thought to be the "spiritual truth" of their times, he added.
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| Park Ju Seok, a professor of the Research Institute for the Visual Language of Korea Myongji University and an archivist of 20th-century Korean photography, poses at the Art Space Eonju Round in Seoul's Gangnam District, Feb. 22. Korea Times photo by Choi Won-suk |
