The Mullae-dong “iron district” is an alley that was formed naturally when small-scale steel mills opened in the area at the start of the economic and industrial boom in Korea in the 1960s. The buildings and factories that were built at that time still stand and function to this day, in 2015. Meanwhile, artists of various genres also started to move into Mullae-dong starting from the beginning to mid-2000s, making it a sort of an art district as well. However, Mullae-dong has a distinctive look and feel to it, which set it apart from other art districts such as Seongsu-dong and Yeonnam-dong. The way that the area is being redeveloped is also quite different from the afore-mentioned neighbourhoods.

I believe the uniqueness of Mullae-dong comes from the steel mills of the area, which are still up and running since they first opened in the 1960s. In other words, Mullae-dong continues to be an active site of industrial production and labour. Here, the usual movements that can be observed in other art districts whereby interested parties try to exploit the presence of artists to drive up real estate prices or attract young people in pursuit of the latest trends have been discouraged, at least up to now. In fact, there are quite a few artists who came here thinking that it was another “hot place” not unlike Seongsu-dong or Yeonnam-dong where they could do “their kind of art”—let us call it “art for the sake of art”—who were unable to adapt to the neighbourhood and left. Despite the differences though, real estate agents all say that rent has gone up significantly in the area. The rent here is outrageously high compared to other similar districts. The reality is especially hard for those who do not have a steady income whether they are artists or day-to-day ironworkers.

My reflection starts from this point. Despite everything then, why do artists continue to move into Mullae-dong? Despite everything, what can be derived from this co-existence with artists?

Functional Dissonance the first project of 2015, borrows the traditional form of fashion shows that have changed little since they first appeared at the end of the 19th century. (Clothes started to be mass-produced with the industrialization in the late 19th century and the fashion show format as we know it today was first introduced in Chicago, U.S.) However, I intend to deconstruct the existing framework of fashion shows, and thereby expand it to include the diverse sensorial realms of different artistic genres. This will serve as a starting point to investigate what we are failing to catch as we pursue and copy art in (or outside of) today’s capitalist society.

As Functional Dissonance covers fashion, film, music, and art, I have invited artists from these genres. The invited artists each receive a role based on the theme of the project, not unlike being given a set of rules before playing a game. Each artist then goes on to produce his or her work. They exist independently within the project, but each must using their own senses, analyze, interpret, and assume a position within the given environment and conditions in order to function together. This individuality will be perceived and remain as a fragmented sensorial experience in the memory of each viewer.

Functional Dissonance is ultimately a deconstructed fashion show, film, and reflection of our reality. The participants of the tour organized for the project are at once the audience, the models of the deconstructed fashion show, and the persons appearing in or outside the frame of a film. It goes without saying that the ironworkers of the surrounding steel mills who witness this strange tour are at once an unfamiliar “other” from the perspective of the participants as well as the models of the deconstructed fashion show. Observation of the other is an important element linking the inside of the frame of the film and the outside; for “me,” “the other” is a mediator that upsets the boundary between reality and fiction. As a result of the confusing and unfamiliar situation triggered by the project, everyone—participants and non-participants alike—end up coexisting despite themselves, and in their continued consciousness of each other, the tension reaches a maximum level. Through Functional Dissonance, we leave with a short but deep impression of the reality of the Mullae-dong iron district, which we do not sense or perceive up until then. In the end, the project becomes an artistic work that copies and reproduces reality. This project starts when tour guide Lee Gyeyoung, the main actor of Film Script Serving Functional Dissonance (2015) written by experimental film director Kim Sukhyun, leads the audience into the frame of the film.

Uniforms Serving Functional Dissonance (2015) starts with the incorporation of the daily lives of the six workers of Eojin, a company specializing in cutting iron bars located within the Mullae-dong iron district, into the Functional Dissonance project. I asked Park Hyesu, a student majoring in fashion design, to design and produce made to order uniforms for the six workers (models). The human body is not symmetrical on the left side and the right side. However, we go through life wearing perfectly symmetrical mass-produced clothes, unaware of our asymmetry. Uniforms Serving Functional Dissonance explores the sensations that wearing perfectly fitted made to order asymmetrical clothes—of which the asymmetry is not overtly noticeable on the outside—may incur. The models wearing the made to order uniforms reveal their everyday lives to the audience.

Performance Serving Functional Dissonance (2015) is a recital performance by cellist Nam Yumi and percussionist Cho Insuk. Dissonance in classical music involves a discordance between pitch, interval, and rhythm. The performers perceive the different sounds that surround them with their senses and attempt to produce sounds based on their perceptions. For this project, “playing” an instrument implies responding to the surrounding noises in order to integrate with the other genres and complete the project, something that is taboo in traditional classical music; as such, it becomes an attempt to go beyond genres. I question whether such an improvisational performance can find a place within the genre of music in the name of “contemporary music.” What is sure is that their performance is an act that perceives, reproduces, and copies all possible surrounding elements that exist—thus function—at the time of the performance.

In Deconstructed Defensive Measure (2015), artist Son Jongjun deconstructs the series of works that he created for his previous project, Defensive Measure. It is a sort of disarmament. “Defensive measure” is a U.S. military term that the artist borrowed to use as the title of his work; the term indicates the military actions to be taken by the U.S. Marines based in Okinawa in case of an emergency situation on the Korean peninsula. Functional Dissonance asks the artist to disarm himself/his work for the sake of his senses and to coexist with the others.

Ryu Jieun’s Collision of Reveries (2015) is a series of pen drawings on paper of the artist’s repressed desires. The key to her work is to see how others perceive these hidden desires within the artist’s images.

The different initiatives of Project 7 1/2 each exist on their own but are connected within the common project. As such, the above is a story that has not ended yet; the exploration will go on. Functional Dissonance will be followed by the second project, Pollination.