[AS A MATTER OF CRAFT] No horsing around: Craftsperson shows horsehair weaving is no joke
Published: 30 Nov. 2023, 15:58
Updated: 22 Jan. 2024, 14:28
- SHIN MIN-HEE
- [email protected]
Editor's note: An old cultural genre in Korea has been gaining new recognition on the global stage: crafts. From finalists at the Loewe Foundation Craft Prize to featured artists in numerous exhibitions overseas, the crafts of Korean artists have, as a matter of fact, become reputable works of art. In this series, the Korea JoongAng Daily interviews contemporary craftspeople who each specialize in a certain medium that uniquely represents the prestige of Korean tradition and culture.
How does one calculate diligence?
By using horsehair, according to 34-year-old craftsperson Jeong Da-hye, who weaves intricately delicate yet robust baskets using the material.
Horsehair crafts are now entering a new golden age in the 21st century, after all but fizzling out after their peak during the Joseon Dynasty (1392-1910), and the revival is thanks to Jeong’s tenacity and affection for the genre.
Horsehair was initially used for traditional Korean men's hats that were cylindrical with wide brims, called gat, and for the two pieces that go inside them: tanggeon, a smaller cap, and manggeon, a thick headband. These helped preserve the hairstyle by preventing hair from sticking out, as men had long hair usually tied into topknots, called sangtu.
Historical photographs suggest that aristocrats and the wealthy wore hats and headbands that were densely weaved, while the lower class and the poor wore ones that were more transparent because it used less horsehair and would have been cheaper.
For women, horsehair was also used for norigae, a traditional ornament, and ayam, a traditional winter cap.
But toward the end of Joseon, men were ordered to cut their sangtu and the traditional headgear became useless, inciting the drop in horsehair crafts’ popularity.
After an absence of about 100 years, Jeong has revived the craft, upgraded it with a modern design, and watched it skyrocket in fame among the international craft scene.
Last year, Jeong made history as the first Korean craftsperson to win the Loewe Foundation Craft Prize. She was also the grand winner of the Cheongju Craft Biennale’s craft competition in 2021 and has held several exhibitions overseas, including in London, Paris and Milan.
When seen up close, the woven details on the horsehair baskets are astonishingly coherent and elaborate. The glowing aura that appears when light is shone on the works is a bonus in their distinctive aesthetic. But this is only attainable through hard work, Jeong stresses.
The Korea JoongAng Daily met with Jeong at her home in Seoul in mid-November, in which she had a separate room that functioned as her studio. The number of baskets, all different shapes and sizes, served as the symbolic answer to how one would count diligence.
The following interview has been edited for length and clarity.
What led you to the world of horsehair crafts? I understand that it’s not a family business.
I majored in sculpture in university, so I’ve always been fond of three-dimensional art. I wasn’t immediately drawn to horsehairs, but I learned that it wasn’t just men’s hats that the material was used for; It had many more purposes, like women’s accessories and even everyday items. Despite it being a type of fiber, and though most fibers tend to stay flat, it was intriguing to me how the horsehair could be weaved into three-dimensional objects. The fact that it was independent and could stand on its own, and the changes in color when reflected by sunlight drew me to it. I learned the techniques from manggeon and tanggeon masters in Jeju Island and did a lot of research on relics to try and reproduce their figures.
What is the general process of making a horsehair basket?
I start with the outline and then create a wooden mold that I can weave the horsehair against. Before that, I pick out the horsehairs, because they come in different qualities. I have to see if the strands are smooth enough, if the thickness is consistent and if the color is what I want. Then I start actually weaving the strands. After I’m finished, I take the wooden mold out and put the basket through a heating process, like boiling or steaming, or else the basket shape will be floppy.
What makes horsehair special as a material?
It’s difficult for a natural fiber, as opposed to synthetic fibers, to be formed into a 3-D structure, especially when the patterns have so many holes in between and are permeable. So the fact that horsehairs can do all this is extraordinary, even though it’s so thin and flexible.
Caring for horsehair also is not high-maintenance. They’re fine anywhere as long as they’re not in an environment that's too humid or dry. Dryness can cause the hair to break, and humidity will make the basket lose its shape.
What is your daily routine like?
My day starts when my husband leaves the house to go to work. I usually vacuum the entire house and then go into my studio room. I work about 10 hours a day, but I don’t think I’ve ever finished before my husband returns home. I tend to work late into the night, because I always have a set workload that I want to finish each day. It’s also important that I work regularly, about five to six days a week.
Do you ever find it hard to concentrate because you work from home?
When I’m in working mode, I don’t wear comfortable clothes that you usually wear at home. I have work clothes and I try my best to control my work-life balance, like refraining from going into my studio room on the weekends. But that doesn’t mean I ever log off from thinking about my work. I think it’s always softly embedded in my head, and that’s fine because I love what I do.
Your awards and achievements prove you are a pioneering figure in Korean horsehair crafts. Why is it important to promote the genre?
I didn’t necessarily dive into horsehair crafts with some grandiose goal to promote them from the beginning. Actually, I think it would have been harder for me to do as well if I had that sort of pressure. My only initial thought was that I enjoy working with horsehair. But I am proud of the craft itself, because it has a beauty that transcends all generations.
After the Cheongju Craft Biennale in 2021, I had so many people tell me that my horsehair pieces were beautiful. The fact that the same horsehair weaving technique has been passed down five, or even seven centuries means that it basically fits our culture like a glove. The craft practically disappeared for about 100 years, but even after it returned, people are still in awe of its craftsmanship.
What messages do you want to convey through your crafts?
I usually identify myself with my horsehair crafts. I aim to be a freewilled, independent person — just like how horsehair is able to stand sturdily on its own. My piece from the Loewe Foundation Craft Prize was called “A Time of Sincerity,” and it reflects the diligence and the time and effort put into making it.
Another thing I adore about horsehair is how flexible both the material and craftsmanship are. There isn’t a rule when weaving every single strand; the artist can adapt easily according to the situation, which I believe helps make them gain a flexible attitude as well. I think the Korean sentiment is similar in that people still know how to find flexibility within harsh constraints, which serves as an advantage in spurring something new. And horsehair crafts are back again after 100 long years, which in turn has become an opportunity to open up a new chapter for them.
BY SHIN MIN-HEE [[email protected]]
with the Korea JoongAng Daily
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