Profile 5


preserving the natural form of curves and barks of the trees came into play. After emigrating to Buenos Aires,


I was able to solely focus on my artworks. I began to work relentlessly while easily obtaining incomparable bigger and better wood than in Korea. Creating art became my top priority, leaving everything else behind. Although my niece had left Argentina for Canada with her two daughters by that time, I had a good support system: my student stayed and assisted me with my work, the public relations officer of the embassy supported me enthusiastically, and my good relationship with the director of the National Museum of Fine Arts of Buenos Aires helped me focus on creating art, even during hard times.


AAN: When referring to nature, you are often quoted as saying that trees are closest to humans. Can you elaborate? KYS: We live together with nature. When I was a child, there were many big and small trees near my house, as well as in the villages, and in the mountains around me. Growing up in a small rural village, I spent a lot of time alone with my mother and with nature. I often played with plants, climbed trees, and connected with the natural surroundings. Later in life, I encountered the Algarrobo tree (carob tree), which is mainly found in the northern part of Argentina. I fell in love with it even more when I heard that there is a native tribe that lives alongside this tree, sleeping in hammocks under it, living in its shade instead of a house, and eating its fruit.


AAN: Did your arrival in Argentina also imply a change of scale and tools in your work? KYS: In Argentina, it was easier to obtain large chunks of wood. I therefore started using the chainsaw to work with this kind of material. Since a larger number of logs were purchased all at once and delivered with a truck, the size of my work environment became much bigger than the one in Korea.


AAN: You worked with semi-precious stones in Brazil. What qualities do you find working with stone that you do not find in any other medium? KYS: I like to work with local materials wherever I am. In Korea, I mainly worked with pine and acacia trees. In Argentina, I worked with Algarrobo, Palo Santo (Bursera graveolens), Lapacho (pink trumpet tree, Handroanthus impetiginosus), Caldén (Prosopis caldenia), and Quebracho (hardwoods). When I went to Mexico, I worked with various coloured onyx; in Brazil, I worked with hard semi-precious stones. I have not done much stone work for a while, but I would like to do it again if I find myself in an area with a lot of stones. When you encounter Mexican onyx and Brazilian semi-precious stones in their original forms, you cannot tell their colour. Te colour shows only after cutting and polishing. Tis contrast between the original colour as a stone, the internal colours, and the material is very interesting. It is the same way I contrast the bark and flesh when working with wood.


AAN: What qualities make the medium of wood truly stand out? KYS: It depends on the type of tree. Te Argentinian trees I use are heavy and firm with the Algarrobo tree being softer than other ones. When cutting with a chainsaw, both firmness and softness can be felt. Even the bark is beautiful. It is thick


and masculine. Te Palo Santo tree, on the other hand, is cold and firm when it is cut with a chainsaw, the surface shows a rich green colour and it has a powerful scent. Te tree is so strong that sometimes the saw blade or chisel breaks. Te Lapacho tree is heavy and firm, too. I like to work with very heavy and dense woods.


AAN: Where do you find the wood, especially when looking for very specific types? KYS: In the 1970s, pine and acacia trees were common in Korea. So I often purchased the logs from a timber store or found pillars and stones from discarded old houses. It was harder to find bigger trees. For the first two years in Argentina, I worked by picking up trees that had fallen on the side of the road or by getting garden trees that local residents wanted to cut down. After the invitational exhibition held in Olavarria, I received a truckload of good carving wood as a gift. Tis helped me learn about Argentina’s high quality woods, and after that I purchased them through a timber merchant.


AAN: Does the wood dictate the sculpture? KYS: Soft wood is easy to work with using a saw or chisel, but is difficult to preserve. Hard and heavy wood is difficult to work with, it is so hard that it sometimes breaks the chisels, or is difficult to lift or move alone. But they are resistant to pests and have no preservation issues.


AAN: Did being away from Korea lead you to rediscover the essence of your country’s culture and philosophy? KYS: When I came to work in South America, I became more aware of my surroundings in Korea. South America has a vast natural environment that is completely different from that in Korea. I felt that the Korean natural environment – smaller-scale scenery with connecting mountains and villages over the hills – and my life in that space, was really translated into my work.


AAN: Your practice also seems to be driven by a spiritual and meditative aspect. How so? KYS: At some point in my life, I developed the habit of erasing all complicated thoughts and clearing my head before starting work. In that state, I repeatedly take in and examine the given materials for a few days. In the case of green wood, I look at it for several days to understand the details of its appearance – the difference between the bark and the core, the grain, and such things as its scent, texture, and vitality. Ten, at a certain point, I become focused just on the material. At this moment, my work begins without hesitation, using tools like a chainsaw, chisel, or brush to shape the ingredients into a sculptural field. During this process, the hard and rough materiality of wood and stone is suddenly transformed into warm, powerful, and flexible material. From then on, the material mystery in my work begins to unravel. My whole spirit and attention is poured into each work. I become entirely immersed. It is in that precise moment that I become one with my art, transcending time and space. Even the tools become an extension of my body. Te work progresses as my hands and tools become one, connecting the separate spaces.


AAN: How do these philosophical elements translate into your work?


Add One, Divide Two Divide One. Can you explain? KYS: In the sculptures from 1975, the theme is shown in the title, Add Two Add One, Divide Two Divide One. Te title is derived from the Eastern yin-yang ideology of union and division. Here, two entities meet as one, and that union is divided again into parts. ‘Union’ and ‘division’ are the foundation of Eastern philosophy and the basis for the existence of the world. In Eastern philosophy, Add Two, Add One, Divide Two, Divide One refers to yin and yang, which is a natural and universal concept. Yang means division and yin means unity. Just as yin exists simultaneously with yang, division exists alongside integration, and unity exists within separation and growth. Two different things must meet to become one, and later be divided again for further growth.


Add Two Add One, Divide Two Divide One 2020-906 (2020), acrylic on recycled wood, 39.37 x 13.39 x 7.48 inches


KYS: Te reason why there are no repeating works is because my practice and art represent life. Living means changing from moment to moment and since all moments are fleeting, life as we experience it day-by-day becomes the only absolute. In my abstract sculptural works from the early 1970s, I was influenced by totemism to reflect the natural and historic human desire to seek refuge from an absolute or god-like entity – to understand the universe and carry on with life. In my print works from this time, I reinterpreted the text of the Korean talisman (bujeok) used in culture of Shamanism and folk religion. In my wooden sculptural work, I show the spirit of unity and division translated through the idea of Add Two Add One, Divide Two, Divide One. During that process, I was hoping and praying that my mind, body, and soul would become one, blessed by God. Te paintings I completed up to 2018 address the moment of life from which all things were conceived to the death and resurrection of Jesus. Tis theme in particular reflects on the words of God, emphasising shared eternal life. Te essence of sharing is love, and within love, we can observe the primal vitality or strength of life. Waves of various colours come together to formulate lines and planes within the Song of My Soul works. Tis expresses the idea of love and sharing.


AAN: With your sculptures being vertical, an Ode to the Sky, do you see yourself and your work as a link between the earth and the sky? KYS: If Ode to the Sky refers to stacking wishes, then yes. Te vertical sculpture represents a wish that spans from the earthly grounds to the heavenly absolute. Wishes are often vehicles that connect heaven and earth. While the work pursues sculptural flexibility and fluctuating form, the material cross sections form an oblique diagonal shape, avoiding absolute vertical or horizontal cuts. Tis signals the removal of rational control or aesthetic prejudice. Instead, the work reflects the evolving and foundational human wish to reach the sky.


AAN: Your practice is based on important principles, such as Add Two


AAN: Beyond relying on these principles, your childhood memories also seem to represent a foundation for your work. Is that a world you want to hold on to? KYS: Yes. As I get older, I think more and more about my childhood. Following my mother’s death in 1969, I fully came to understand her as someone who prayed for her brother who escaped conscription during World War II, not knowing if he was alive or dead. She prayed everyday with purified water and lit candles on the traditional jangdokdae (an outside space where food storage jars are usually kept). Tis became a theme of my work in the 1970s. As a child, I also remember seeing the twinkling stars in the night sky, and I have memories of talking to these countless stars.


AAN: As you indicated before, you have the ability to let go when starting to work on a new piece: it seems like an act of purification. Creation thus becomes a meditative and spiritual process. Can you elaborate? KYS: When we were evacuated during the Korean War, I met a monk with a white beard. Te monk said to me, ‘Child, for the rest of your life, think about where your heart is, what colour it is, where it came from, and where it is going’. I will never forget those words. Tey have stayed with me and, when I work, I try to answer those questions through my practice.


AAN: Today, when technology plays an increasing role in life, even in art, how do you view the importance of the artist’s hand? KYS: My work is completed by my soul and my hands. I become one with nature in my practice, creating work that stems from nature, the senses of my hands, the movements of my heart, and my soul. Te works resulting from this become truly one- of-a-kind creations. Of course, there


are many great works today that use advanced science and technology, as numerous copies can be made easily. I am amazed by these works. However, personally, that admiration does not last long. Perhaps I am old-fashioned and accustomed to more handcrafted, traditional methods?


AAN: At this stage in your career, what keeps challenging you? KYS: With the financial help from my galleries, Lehmann Maupin and Kukje, I have a new workspace and storage facility in Korea. However, I am worried that I will not be able to work as much as before due to the arthritis in my knees, as I am now nearly 90 years old. However, I still feel motivated to continue my practice, to show hope and resilience to young and aspiring artists as well as audiences through my work.


AAN: I understand that your museum in Buenos Aires is no longer in operation. What will happen to its collection and are there any other plans for a similar project elsewhere? KYS: Museo Kim Yun Shin opened in 2008. It was difficult to operate at personal expense for 15 years. So it closed in February 2024. During its time, it held many exhibitions for local culture. It also participated in the Buenos Aires Museum of Art Night (La Noche de los Museos) every year. Upon closing, the collections were all shiped to Korea in early February 2024 and stored in new storage facilities. If the opportunity arises, I would like to do another Museo Kim Yun Shin project sometime in the future.


AAN: As part of the 2024 Venice Biennale, what are you presenting for the theme of Foreigners Everywhere? KYS: Tere are four wood sculptures and four stone sculptures, which were previously exhibited during my Nam Seoul Museum of Art retrospective in 2023. In addition, there are two wood sculptures from 1979, and two wood sculptures made in Argentina in the early 1980s. Tree pieces made of Mexican onyx were created between 1987 and 1990, and a piece made out of Brazilian semi-precious stone was produced in 2002. I believe these works cover important moments and aspects of my practice. Adriano Pedrosa, the curator of the 60th Venice Biennale, visited my exhibition at the Nam Seoul Museum of Art and contacted my studio, inviting me to participate in the Biennale.


AAN: It must be an enormous satisfaction to share your art with more people at this stage in your life. How do you feel about it? KYS: It is an amazing honour. I was really excited to be invited to such a big event that I never expected to attend. Tis is my second Biennale invitation after participating in the São Paulo Biennale in 1974, where I had to send the works as I could not attend in person. Tis year, I attended the opening of the Venice Biennale and received so much interest and support from numerous visitors, reporters, and gallery officials! I am also grateful to see how many people are interested in my work through social media. I promise to repay each one of them with more and better work in the future.


Kim Yun Shin’s exhibition at this year’s Biennale in Venice, Foreigners Everywhere, showing works from the series Add Two Add One, Divide Two Divide One. Photo: Matteo de Mayda


• Kim Yun Shin’s work is on view at the Venice Biennale until 24 November.


It will also be featured in the curated Studio section of Frieze Masters in London taking place from 9-13 October


ASIAN ART | SEPTEMBER 2024


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