'Visualizing the invisible': Artist uses light and glass to capture memories

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'Visualizing the invisible': Artist uses light and glass to capture memories

Installation of ″Silence in Nature″ (2015) by Lee Kyou-hong [LEE KYOU-HONG]

Installation of ″Silence in Nature″ (2015) by Lee Kyou-hong [LEE KYOU-HONG]

 
[AS A MATTER OF CRAFT] 


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.
 

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The second floor of Lee Kyou-hong's studio in Ganghwa Island, Incheon. The stained-glass folding screen, titled "240201," is shown in the left window. [SHIN MIN-HEE]

The second floor of Lee Kyou-hong's studio in Ganghwa Island, Incheon. The stained-glass folding screen, titled "240201," is shown in the left window. [SHIN MIN-HEE]

 
GANGHWA ISLAND, Incheon — Glassmaker Lee Kyou-hong, 51, recently moved his studio over to Ganghwa Island in Incheon, which is about a 40-minute drive from his home in Banpo-dong, southern Seoul.
 
The first floor is like the workplace of any other craftsperson, filled with heavy machinery, materials scattered everywhere and barely enough floor space to set foot in. It's when one reaches the second floor that they understand why Lee has chosen to work in an almost-isolated, two-story building situated on an island that’s only reachable by driving all the way across Seoul.
 
A large, spacious room neatly furnished with cozy decor, the studio shows off glassworks that are tactfully placed. Lee's stained-glass mosaic windows and folding screens highlight the indoor space, which complements the spectacular outdoor ocean view. The added final touch is the sunlight, which penetrates through the tinted glassworks and allows the pieces to glisten like crystals — ultimately achieving pure bliss.

 
Such natural beauty is exactly what makes Lee’s glasswork romantic, but also poetic. He calls his works “phenomenological expressions” that are the result of the “reciprocal relationship” between sunlight and glass. In a more personal sense, his glassworks are like physical souvenirs of his past.
 
“With light and glass, I try to portray the greatness of the universe and its order and cycle,” Lee told the Korea JoongAng Daily in an interview at his studio. “It’s also my emotional approach toward objects and nature deriving from my own memories.”
 
This process is what he calls jeongjungdong, which refers to movements in stillness. Just like how space may appear as if it’s peaceful and quiet, but is in fact ceaselessly expanding, his glassworks continue to change in appearance depending on the different angles they are viewed from and the direction of light.
 
The ″Breathing of Light″ series by Lee Kyou-hong at a 2019 exhibition at a Leica camera store in Cheongdam-dong, southern Seoul [LEE KYOU-HONG]

The ″Breathing of Light″ series by Lee Kyou-hong at a 2019 exhibition at a Leica camera store in Cheongdam-dong, southern Seoul [LEE KYOU-HONG]

 
An example is his “Breathing of Light” series, which are reliefs made from chunks of glass irregularly pasted onto a matte, foggy mirror.
 
“The movement of light in these reliefs, from how the glass pieces hold in the light to how the light subtly bounces off the opaque surface, forms a harmony worth noting,” Lee explains. “It’s a dynamic process consisting of the formation and extinction of light, and an eruption of endless energy.”
 
Lee is one of Korea’s pioneering glass artists, earning his Bachelor of Fine Arts degree from Kookmin University. He then continued his master’s degree at the Edinburgh College of Art in the United Kingdom. He has worked as an architectural glass specialist for over a decade, with his commissioned works exhibited in churches, temples, hospitals and even train stations nationwide.
 
Lee Kyou-hong poses with his glass piece ″Trace of Time″ (2022), which was shortlisted for the Loewe Craft Prize in 2023 [LEE KYOU-HONG]

Lee Kyou-hong poses with his glass piece ″Trace of Time″ (2022), which was shortlisted for the Loewe Craft Prize in 2023 [LEE KYOU-HONG]

 
His “Trace of Time” glass piece, an otchil (lacquer-coated) glass wheel tinged with gold dust inside, was shortlisted for the prestigious Loewe Craft Prize in 2023.
 
“My decision to work in glasswork was based on an obscure ambition of wanting to do something novel,” Lee said. “I’ve just always been so mesmerized by the material that I think it’s the only reason I’ve come all this way.”
 
The following interview has been edited for length and clarity.
 
Colorful glass fragments scattered in Lee Kyou-hong's studio on Ganghwa Island, Incheon [SHIN MIN-HEE]

Colorful glass fragments scattered in Lee Kyou-hong's studio on Ganghwa Island, Incheon [SHIN MIN-HEE]

 
Q. What can you tell us about your Loewe-shortlisted “Trace of Time” glass piece?


A. This series is a manifestation of my memories into reality. Glass is a great material for metaphorically visualizing the invisible, the spiritual and the untouchable, thanks to its transparency. Basically, my memories have transparently morphed into glass, and the otchil and gold dust have been added to reinterpret these memories according to my disposition. It’s not about simply reenacting the memories, but the work acts like a conversation of our daily lives and the warmth that comes from it.
 
 
What is so unique about glass?


Glass has so many charming traits that it would be difficult to list them all. The material resembles a gemstone because of the way it can hold and reflect light and the way it doesn’t change state even after a long time. Of course, it will break if physical force is applied, but other than that, it stays the same even after thousands of years. The material is also similar to ceramics in that they both are made at high temperatures of around 1,000 degrees Celsius [1,832 degrees Fahrenheit]. Glass is also not susceptible to humidity, unlike materials like hanji [traditional Korean paper], which can explain why glass is used in interior items found in humid climates like those of Hong Kong or Singapore.
 
″Dadeumidol #2″ (2014) by Lee Kyou-hong [LEE KYOU-HONG]

″Dadeumidol #2″ (2014) by Lee Kyou-hong [LEE KYOU-HONG]

 
How is the Korean aesthetic reflected in your glassworks?


It’s never intentional, but I think it naturally derives from the fact that I have lived all my life on this very land and have been influenced by this country. The 'Trace of Time' series was inspired by the front lawn of my childhood home, where I would run around and play. And the nostalgia I have from the persimmon trees that grew in my front lawn inspired the glass-blown 'Silence in Nature' series. A lot of my earlier works used to take after the shapes of traditional millstones, dadeumitdol [traditional stone bat and tray used for ironing out wrinkles in clothes] or straw baskets, which all symbolize Korean sensibility. I remember them all as objects from my childhood. Although making them from glass may make them seem colder, my audience perceives them to elicit the warm sentiments of traditional Korean aesthetics.
 
Stained-glass windows by Lee Kyou-hong in the staircase of his studio in Ganghwa Island, Incheon [SHIN MIN-HEE]

Stained-glass windows by Lee Kyou-hong in the staircase of his studio in Ganghwa Island, Incheon [SHIN MIN-HEE]

 
What is a new glass piece you could introduce?


The stained-glass folding screen [titled '240201'] you see here in my studio was made recently. You could say it is a combination of both Western and Eastern aesthetics. The stained glass originated in Europe and the folding screens are from ancient China. But the pattern of the stained glass on my folding screen is reminiscent of the colors and lines of hanbok [traditional Korean dress], or even a hanji windowsill. It wasn’t my intention from the beginning to make it this way, but after a while, I started to realize that it came very naturally, all because of how I’m Korean to the bone.
 
Glass specialist Lee Kyou-hong works in his studio. [LEE KYOU-HONG]

Glass specialist Lee Kyou-hong works in his studio. [LEE KYOU-HONG]

 
The glass furniture and objects in your studio can be easily perceived as crafts, but others like your Loewe piece or your 'Breathing of Light' series seem more like artworks. How would you explain your work?


Lately, there’s been a newly coined word for the crafts industry: fine craft. This refers to how ambiguous the line between fine art and crafts have become. Of course, the regular glass bowls that we use in our everyday lives are, without a doubt, crafts, but sometimes my works resemble sculptures. Honestly, I wonder if setting boundaries between the two are really necessary. The more important thing is that we make the best out of a particular material. In my case, this would be glass.

BY SHIN MIN-HEE [shin.minhee@joongang.co.kr]
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