Bak-Go-Ji-Geum: Southward-bound “Buncheong”¹⁾

March 9 – 24, 2020, Soemardja Gallery

Curated by Asmudjo Jono Irianto, Sunyoung Oh

Organized by Project 7 1/2, Visual Art Study Program, Craft Study Program, Faculty Art and Design, ITB

Supported by Arts Council Korea

Ceramics, worked by hand as clay and fired in a kiln heated to more than 1,300℃, can come out differently even if made by the same person. The results can depend on the time, location, clay, humidity, temperature, air and the kiln itself. Achieving the same color and shape is hard. People, too, depending on where they’re from, use different languages and accents; they have different attitudes, appearances, and cultures. But if there’s one thing everyone has in common, it’s that their mortal bodies return to the soil when they die. So, pottery worked by hand and fired in a kiln is very much like a person. While taking part in the artists’ residency program of the 5th Indonesia Contemporary Ceramics Biennale in 2019, Cho Jang-hyun introduced for the first time in Indonesia the Korean ceramics technique Buncheong.²⁾

The process of making Korean Buncheong in an environment whose clay, humidity, temperature, air, and kilns are all different from Korea’s was like moving from one’s hometown to somewhere unknown. The Buncheong ceramics made last year in Jatiwangi, unfortunately, could not adjust to the differences in the local environment and all cracked and broke. But there was something to take away from that process of recognizing and accepting something of great meaning. Extending from that, Cho is giving a lecture and holding a workshop in March at the ceramic studio of the Bandung Institute of Technology (ITB). He was invited by the “Visual Art Study Program” at the ITB Faculty of Art and Design. And at the Soemardja Gallery, founded at ITB in 1974, a solo exhibition by Cho (Curators: Oh Sunyoung, Asmudjo Jono Irianto) is being held from March 9th to 24th. The exhibition title, “Bak-Go-Ji-Geum,” is a four-letter Chinese phrase meaning that if you know what happened in the past, you will know what is going on in the present day.

There are various perspectives from which to see the works of contemporary Korean ceramic artist Cho Jang-Hyun. But rather than a private matter for the artist, I think this is something for us to think about and discuss together. To embrace and understand these diverse perspectives, I have invited as contributors to the book Asmudjo Jono Irianto of the Bandung Institute of Technology in Indonesia and Tessa Peter of Westminster University in the U.K. I sincerely appreciate their efforts. While preparing for this publication, I not only learned how Tessa Peters and Asmudjo Jono Irianto interpret the work of Cho Jang-hyun, but also how the different knowledge and ideas of the two authors regarding ceramic art connect and reach a consensus. This means that while we all come from different cultures and backgrounds, we ultimately face the same problem. I was also brought back to the points I need to reflect on in the Korean ceramics industry and art scene. I think the process of carrying out this project will have been mutually productive.

The interview below with Cho Jang-hyun was conducted to achieve an understanding of the artist and his previous works. In the time spent editing this book and planning the exhibition, I came to understand that Cho is an artist who values locality and the cultural traditions of the place in which he has his roots. And I could see that he cherishes each step of the work process from the very beginning; that he develops his work carefully albeit slowly, and for these reasons, I look forward to his future works as well.

Behind familiar traditional ceramics like celadon and white porcelain is the country of China. That ceramic culture spread to other regions, fusing with those regions’ personalities to develop individually. The celadon and white porcelain made in Korea inevitably took on characteristics of its own, different from those of China. Of those forms, Buncheong is infused with the feeling of the Korean people. It can be said to be an original and distinctive ceramic technique. Through Buncheong, contemporary ceramists are contributing in various ways to the passing down of traditions while at the same looking at them in new ways, which is exciting. This is because the creation of newness based on traditional techniques is not traditional art, but contemporary art. From that point of view, the development of Korean Buncheong can be seen as contemporary art with an expanded range of emotional expression. Contemporary artist Cho Jung-hyun, the first to introduce these techniques to Indonesia through a solo exhibition, is working primarily in celadon and Buncheong. Through his works, we hope audiences will be able to find the characteristics and present-day forms pursued by the contemporary Korean potter based on tradition, along with a deep understanding of celadon and Buncheong that encompasses the 9th to 16th centuries. We also look forward to an opportunity to connect the dots between the characteristics of Korean contemporary ceramics and traditional ceramics more broadly, and we hope the audience will not just see this as a display of ceramics but also think together about what kind of discourse there might be in this regard within contemporary art.

Sunyoung Oh: In university, you majored in fine arts. Now you’re carrying on the techniques of traditional ceramics as a ceramist. I’d like to ask why and when you started your work using the traditional techniques of Goryeo celadon.
Cho Jang-hyun: I had dreamt of becoming a ceramist since I was little when I would play with clay as I watched my father working in his studio. My father’s ceramic studio, which was a little more traditional than the ones we have today, was a playground for me and a place of dreams. I later went to study in the United States, where, interested in everything related to the arts, I experienced as many different areas as I could. On coming back to Korea, I started doing ceramics in earnest. Applying my understanding of tradition along with contemporary concepts, I needed more than ten years of very basic practice. It’s simple to find materials in nature and to gain understanding through experimentation, but this required patience and time, and of course I think this process was absolutely necessary. Also, to understand contemporary concepts, I took an active part in local art forms. All of my works spring from tradition. I try to do this not only in molding and ornamental techniques but in the way I work too. In this, there can be found even more understanding and intention because my work consists of reconnecting ceramic traditions that have been cut off.

Sunyoung Oh: You’re carrying on the traditional techniques of Goryeo celadon, but I introduced you as a contemporary ceramist. This is because you bring out contemporary characteristics from a foundation of tradition. What does it mean to you to inherit tradition?
Cho Jang-hyun: For me, the foundations of tradition could be called “standards.” If standards are set firmly, then they enable many variations and create the freedom to accept many things. Sometimes in our society, there are moments when we have no choice. Among ceramists who inherit and pass down the techniques of Korean traditional ceramics, a criterion for evaluation is knowing how to reproduce the traditional technique almost exactly. And in the name of differentiating between contemporary ceramists and traditional artists, we are tacitly forced to go in one or the other direction, and in fact, there are these prescriptive categories of activity. But on the basis of tradition, my “standards” serve as a compass that gives me unlimited freedom while preventing me from losing my way.

Sunyoung Oh: In the latter half of 2007, as a project manager at the Uijae Museum of Korean Art, you were involved in a range of international exchange projects. I understand you also took part in curating some art projects for the Gwangju region. Would you talk a bit about your artistic activities in Gwangju at that time? I also wonder what you were feeling in that process.
Cho Jang-hyun: In 2007, the international residency program they offer at the Uijae Museum of Korean Art had a problem with communication in terms of languages. So, the museum was looking for a coordinator who could serve as project manager and who could speak Chinese, English, and Korean. This was a good opportunity for me, having had no real interaction or experiences in the Gwangju area, and so for that reason, I joined. I was tasked with managing programs that would facilitate the participation of artists on international residencies. and I served as an on-site exhibition director. Later, I would take part in one of the cultural projects put on by the Asia Culture Center as curator and secretary of the 1st Art Fence project. And in a group called mediated art space “Minari,” based at Gwangju’s Daein Market, I served as curator, carrying out a variety of artistic projects, including international residencies for Asian artists and support projects for the Arts Council Korea. I remember many of the support projects at the time having very strong experimental aspects. I understand there are still sustainability problems due to the lack of long-term support, which has not been resolved.

Sunyoung Oh: In your view, what are the characteristics of Gwangju as a region?
Cho Jang-hyun: To me, remembering the passion of the artists I saw when I was young and the May 18th Democratization Movement, Gwangju is a place that might not be wealthy economically but that has a wide variety of culture and arts to enjoy. Also, the people there are themselves rooted in Gwangju by political conviction with a sense of belief and self-respect. These regional characteristics are present in the activities of Gwangju-area artists, which I think undoubtedly has had a big influence on me.

Sunyoung Oh: Then as a ceramist and a resident of the region, how have you been influenced by the Gwangju region’s history?
Cho Jang-hyun: The phrase that best explains the Honam region in Korean history is yak-mu-honam, si-mu-guk-ga.4 In history, the essential role of the Honam region and Gwangju has been to have self-respect while living in a barren environment, and, through the mental intensity resulting from this paradoxical environment, to produce generation after generation of artists, and this has been expressed through art. (Many people in Korea still have a negative prejudice about the Honam region. But really, the reasons for that are not clear.)

Sunyoung Oh: I remember hearing from someone that those now in their late thirties or forties are the last generation that’ll carry on the tradition. It’s said that most young Koreans, the so-called “millennial generation” born between the early 1980s to the year 2000, have no interest in the passing down of tradition. Hearing this, I couldn’t help but think this is really too bad, for one thing, but also whether there isn’t something we can do about it together. I’d like to ask what plans you have for the Mudeung Kiln going forward.
Cho Jang-hyun: Rather than a problem just among the young generation, I think the problem started with ignorance of tradition among the older generation. The Miracle on the Han River is an illusion, and I think the price for this has been paid in tradition and culture. We are well aware that recovering culture once it’s lost is harder than preserving it. To demand that we take interest in a culture that existed in the past but not in our real lives, and to force us to preserve it, is just sophistry and neglect. But I think to depend only on measures from the government is to rely on something uncertain. So, to recognize the responsibility and thereby fulfill it is the obligation of those who perceive it, and to do this demands sacrifice. Plans for Mudeung Kiln are uncertain. We can only try to be faithful to the desires and duties of our times.

Sunyoung Oh: You’ve recently had individual exhibitions in China and Korea. And you have your fourth exhibition in Bandung, Indonesia. Tell us about these exhibitions “Jing” (Nogo Gallery, Beijing, China, 2018), “Look East with Longing” (MOL Gallery, Xian, China, 2019) and “Chime the Musical Stone” (Gallery Min, Seoul, Korea, 2019).
Cho Jang-hyun: For the first exhibition in Beijing, called “Jing,” the title explains the special characteristics of Korean celadon, namely that it is clear and bright. The Xian exhibition “Look East with Longing” was chosen by the exhibition manager. It can be understood as a question asking, “what is longed for in the east?” That is to say, the problem of traditional ceramics lacking direction and stagnating is not a problem of the present-day but rather a question of the future and direction of the ceramic arts. And as for the exhibition in Korea, “Chime the Musical Stone,” its title comes from a verse in the Confucian Analects. It means that the sound of the ancient stone bell is imbued with the heart, and I chose it in the hope this exhibition could convey my inner feelings. It was an exhibition of previous works and new ones. It presented a wide range of pieces intended for communication, including the changes to celadon used in Chinese tea culture, the mere thoughts of the artist and works reinterpreted from a contemporary perspective. Starting with Cheol-Chae-Toe-Hwa5 underglaze iron, this piece uses a patterned form, white engobe shading, and kiln placement appropriate to these. Ordinary, traditional underglaze iron emphasizes the contrast between black and white, but this style creates friction with the environmental aspects of the times. Sometimes when I’m working, I set a standard and then rearrange elements to blend pieces in countercurrents of technique and time. In these works, there is no need for clear and elaborate lines. Head Vase #1 (2019) uses a style and concept that had not been seen in Korean celadon. If conventional celadon is in a high state of completion and elegance, this piece is simple and crude, showing a variety of colors on the surface and broadening the bounds of celadon. Celadon Prunus Vase with Inlaid Design (2019) is patterned with traces of the process of its creation. Traditional ceramics, depicting nature as it often was encountered in everyday life, was typically filled with meaning and desire. But in contemporary times, any kind of pattern, through its intention and concept, is recognized as meaningful and beautiful and can serve as a substitute. Also, I think this kind of change in thinking will bring change to contemporary ceramics.

Cho Jang-hyun is a contemporary ceramist carrying on the tradition of Goryeo celadon at the Mudeung Kiln in Gwangju. The Mudeung Kiln is where the master ceramist Cho Ki-jung, an Intangible Cultural Asset of Korea who contributed to the revival of Goryeo celadon and the development of ceramics culture, trained and produced his apprentices. Cho Jang-Hyun studied painting and learned the techniques of Goryeo celadon from Cho Ki-Jung, his father. Currently, Cho Jang-Hyun is working at the Mudeung Kiln and is making great efforts to modernize Goryeo celadon and develop and proliferate Korean ceramics. His representative exhibitions are “Jing” (Nogo Gallery, Beijing, China, 2018), “Look East with Longing” (MOL Gallery, Xian, China, 2019) and “Chime the Musical Stone” (Gallery Min, Seoul, Korea, 2019).

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[1] Starting from the late 14th century, around the 1419-1450 year of King Sejong’s reign, the foundation of the Joseon Dynasty, the quality, shape, type of pattern, and technique of painting patterns of Buncheong developed significantly, refined, and displayed the unique beauty of Joseon’s pottery. Unlike the white porcelain for the royal family produced in Guan-yo(Gwangju Joseon Royal Kiln), Buncheong ware presented as the commoner’s container. Therefore, the patterns of the Buncheong ware are characterized by its lively and folklore. In particular, the reconstruction and abstract transformation of the designs show the artistic excellence of potters during the Joseon Dynasty.

[2] The ceramic technique of Buncheong is characterized by the use of dark, iron-bearing clay, a white slip for decoration and a clear glaze. Decorations can be white slip brushed on, drawing through white slip to reveal the dark body, iron oxide pigments applied with a brush and other methods all employing white slip on the dark body. In this book, Tessa Peters and Cho Jang-hyun talked about it in their interview.

[3] An experiment in material and expression, In Progress (2019) is like an old habit of Cho Jang-hyun’s of seeking communication and development. The project is an extension of his previous works. As an experiment exploring materials that would suit the kiln at Jatiwangi, it was done together with friends from the Jatiwangi Art Factory.
They arranged materials that could be used for ceramics on a table. The materials on the table were used by Cho Jang-hyun and the other participating artists, who looked forward to seeing them appear in a variety of forms as they were worked by different hands.

[4] This phrase was said by Admiral Yi Sun-sin after the Battle of Myeongnyang, meaning “if there were no Honam, there would be no nation.”

[5] Cheol-Chae-Toe-Hwa (철채퇴화) is a technique for making patterns by thickly applying iron-containing pigments on the body of pottery.