Kim Honggi (Art Critic)
Unpretentious public art
Jaeyeon Chung prefers public spaces where ordinary citizens are out and about over institutional places like art museums and galleries – be it a park located in the middle of a metropolis, or a run-of-the-mill public restroom. People often associate public art with large sculptures in front of buildings downtown or large heavy objects that resemble monuments. These objects usually look like they are preoccupied with outshining one another. Chung’s works are different. They possess the bare minimum of materiality, and so they are never pretentious. She doesn’t erect near-permanent monuments, but instead, orchestrates temporary events with minimal intervention. Still, Chung ventures into the world of public art. What, then, is public art to Chung? She replies, “it is an artistic gesture that sets the stage for historical, social, cultural, and political communication.” The publicness that Chung pursues through her art isn’t just about creating a beautiful object in a public place somewhere but is the act of creating a communal environment where individuals can gather and connect. This act links each individual’s personal memories with public history. Arranging this encounter between the public and the private – this is the essence of public art for Chung. Here, the artist acts as a bridge of sorts that brings the private and public spaces together. Individuals and groups meet, mingle, and begin to swap different stories on the bridge called Jaeyeon Chung.
Placing intimate emotions out in public
There are stories that personal memories can tell us in a public place. Six emails are printed on large pieces of paperlike pvc scrim and placed near the Italian Gardens in Hyde Park, London. At a closer look, they are love letters from a man to his significant other. They contain the memories of intimate exchanges from petty nit-picking to sweet nothings. Chung relocates her personal memories to a public place. The artist leaves extremely personal traces in the form of love letters in a public space – a park – and in doing so, she hopes that the memories of the romantic relationship between the two individuals become the inspiration for more stories. Her work doesn’t stop there, however. The man in the story becomes enraged that his letters are displayed in the park for all to see, and his significant other retaliates by saying that publicizing personal memories is a form of contemporary art. The two subsequent letters sent by the man define his partner as “a pathetic artist wanna-be who has no original ideas.” Chung adds these follow-up letters to her collection of publicized letters and holds another exhibition at a gallery in London. As such, Chung sheds light on the provocative and voyeuristic nature of contemporary art with no lack of sarcasm and goes so far as to self-criticize in her work.
Same space different scenery, same symbols different reactions
Considering Chung’s working process that intervenes in the public sphere, scouting for and selecting the right place for an intervention is one of the most important steps in her practice. A case in point is Howick Place, which illustrates that a public space can be perceived as a completely different place by individuals depending on the time of day. Howick Place is a small street in the City of Westminster in London. Here, it becomes two very different places during the daytime and at night. It serves as a place of rest for the public and corporate desk job workers during lunch breaks. It is also usually packed with pedestrians as it is a shortcut that leads from Victoria Station to the city center. But homeless people start to gather over sundown and line up to receive free food, and the rest of the city starts to avoid it. Howick Place is a place that offers two completely different perspectives. Chung stands in the middle of the street, holding a sign that reads “On Diversion” (a commonly heard announcement on London’s problematic bus service) all day and into the evening. This simple gesture illustrates the duality of life on the street in a roundabout way. The pedestrians during the day, and homeless people during the night react in different ways to the same sign. During the day pedestrians often disregarded the intervention, while at night it was sometimes seen as condescending to the homeless people. The same space encompasses different social classes and sceneries, while the same sign elicits different reactions and responses . The viewers are hit with the realization that one and the same public space is recognized in completely different ways depending on the circumstances, and individuals.
Stories written in cement blocks
When Jaeyeon Chung was an artist-in-residence at a 150-year-old church-turned-studio, her works there exemplified her methodologies in a coherent way. The medium she chose this time were tablets made from cement that seemed to be in no way remarkable. However, these very same cement blocks were instilled with different meanings in different locations and contexts. The artist started by making the stone tablets with her hands – one cement block at a time – in her attempt to adapt to the formidable residency building and piled the tablets up on the floor. This purely individualistic act was repeated daily until it became her personal ritual (24/7). When Chung participated in an exhibition that was held in a solitary confinement cell of an old police station building, she moved these blocks into the cell, and erected one of the blocks, like a stele, to commemorate her repetitive action.
The cement blocks were returned to the residency building after the show were then transformed and given a new life in St. Saviour’s Emergency Private Shelter. The blocks that were once a medium used to bring about psychological stability have become devices for contemplating the changes the location has gone through throughout its history. This work begins with the reflection that the church has now turned into a venue for an artist-in-residence program. Chung imagines that it had been used by the local community as an air raid shelter during World War II. She speculates that in the future, the building could become a luxurious private shelter that protects the owner from radioactive spills and natural disasters. She arranges the cement blocks in the front yard of the building to create a virtual exit from the shelter and builds a metal fence in the corner inside the building to create the entrance. She then films and screens an advertisement for a top-of-the range private safety shelter. Chung uses the humble and inexpressive medium of cement blocks to highlight a shift in their signification depending on the circumstances in which they are placed. This small device creates an unfamiliar scene at an ordinary location and provides us with the opportunity to ponder over the changes a building goes through from the past, into the present and the future. A place that served as a public shelter for the entire community can become a luxurious shelter for one single privileged individual. This work amplifies the artist’s concerns over more and more public spaces becoming dominated by a handful of individuals for their personal use.
Large scale co-work
In essence, Jaeyeon Chung’s works swing between the public and personal realms within different temporal and spatial contexts, as well as being situated at the interface between the individual and community. These invisible boundaries are visualized with the use of seemingly insignificant and mundane objects like love letters, signs, and cement blocks. Chung’s work has revolved around making small, passive gestures until now, however, she hopes to make larger gestures by collaborating with others. If her past works have been a way to determine whether she is leading a good life or not, then her hopes for future collaborations seem to also be her hopes to live a good life with other people. I look forward to Jaeyeon Chung’s future artistic endeavors that will undoubtedly remain graciously unpretentious even if they do grow in scale.