Visiting Korea

After missing a bus, getting off at the wrong bus stop, and turning a 30-minute trip into a 1.5-hour trip, I finally made it to Mangdon Station to meet Chun-Li for her Korean cooking class. In this class, we first visited the local market before making bibimbap (mixed rice with meat and veggies), dakgalbi (stir-fried chicken), haemulpajeon (seafood pancake), and doesnjang-jjigae (fermented soybean paste stew). After cooking we came together to eat the food we made and the various side dishes laid out and some sparkling rice wine (that was *very* good).

This class included people from the US, Australia, China, and Japan. I found it really interesting that when we shared what we ate for breakfast, the host (who's Korean), Japanese, and Chinese all said they ate soup (I think either miso or some kind of broth) with rice. However the Americans and Australian and myself) answered that we ate yogurts, oatmeal, coffee, etc. I knew that different cultures eat different things for breakfast but I was surprised they ate something so different than what I'm used to.

Something I really appreciated about this museum was the abundance of artists who were women without labeling it as a "woman artist" gallery. The art could be influenced by living life as a woman, but the selling point of the gallery wasn't focused on having women artists. Many galleries I've been to--both in the US and around the world--mainly have galleries/museums filled with primarily men's art or there are women-specific galleries. I've always found this covert sex-based segregation ridiculous so it was nice to finally see a museum showcasing both men and women. While some of the art I didn't personally "get" or understand, I did appreciate the aesthetics. I posted some of my favorite pictures/ scenes above.

There was another exhibit I appreciated but wasn't allowed to take pictures of. Chun Kyung-ja was a painter that touched on themes of sorrow and solitude. She traveled to many different places around the world and is a well-known South Korean painter. I particularly enjoyed her more botanical-based paintings.

Finally, there was a quote I appreciated in a section that examined royal paintings:

PORTRAITURE AND THE ROYAL IMAGE

"The word 'portrait' often conjures a representation of an individual person, one that is identifiable due in large part to the naturalistic resemblance of the portrait to its subject. Mesopotamian systems of knowledge, however, did not accommodate such a notion of portraiture. Instead, representations of people - most notably, rulers - were an amalgamation of attributes stylized to portray the idealized version of the subject. These attributes were culturally coded and adhered to strict stylistic conventions so much so that portraits required inscriptions to identify one portrait from another. Furthermore, these portraits were not simply 're-presentations' of a person but were embodied with the essence of the subject. As such, portraits were endowed with agency and in times of war and conflict, regularly had their sensory organs defaced to 'kill' the image of the king. Without their eyes, noses, mouths, and ears rulers became senseless and their portraits were no longer powerful."

12th Annual International Sculpture Festa

March 4th 2023

I actually hadn't planned to go to this event but ended up stumbling upon it when I was lost inside of the COEX mall. Hidden down a weirdly dark corner of the mall, this exhibit changed the way I thought about sculptural art. I tend to not be drawn to this sort of thing (because sometimes I feel like I don't understand abstract sculptures) but with a $4 entrance fee I decided to check it out. And...WOW. This was completely different from the sculptures I've seen in the US and Europe. Many sculptures had an electronic component to them. Sculptures were dynamic--full of color, movement, and life. I have never seen anything like it. Walking through this exhibit made me wonder why this was the first time I've seen something like this. I can think of when I've seen--more or less--the same boring sculpture made at different times by different people. I feel like in art--and especially modern art--sometimes "meaning" is the driving force of what's considered "good" art instead of the art speaking for itself. With this, I feel like following this approach causes art to sort of lose itself. We end up getting galleries full of poorly painted squares and if we question what we're looking at, we're told "you just don't 'get it'" (I am referring to a gallery I saw in Santa Fe, NM that literally had this--just lots of (poorly) painted squares on a wall). In grasping for super meta art, I think we're left with... garbage. This is why I think I loved this exhibit so much; the actual craft of the various sculptures was upheld with the artist's intent. The sculptures had a unique style that only the artist could create. To me, this is what an art gallery is. 

Another side note: I don't know if it's just me but I had no idea Seoul was full of art. Europe and the US get all this attention for having different renowned museums and galleries but I am surprised that South Korea has not received this same kind of attention.

Open the images below to view them in another tab (I can't upload videos directly to the page)

National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art (MMCA)

March 5th 2023

I sort of touched on this in the previous section but whereas I think a lot of modern art is repetitive, this museum didn't conform to boring modern art. With a wide range of art and artists, the work here ranged from the literal to the abstract. Works like the head or the picture with different colored lines were made out of soil from the area and the self-portrait or colorful paintings were made from oil paint. I thought the integration of natural materials was interesting and something I haven't seen at a lot of galleries I've visited. I thought the head sculpture was cool because it was made out of soil but when you walked inside of it it was dark with a few lights and had an audio recording of someone breathing. I thought this was a unique mix of media: integrating a very natural material, mud, with a very technological material, sound and light. 

I also appreciated the bronze sculpture of the older woman. Although you can't see it in the photo, the woman is reflecting (both physically and metaphorically) and staring into a small pool of water. I like the weight and the message behind this piece. The sculpture itself looks and feels heavy while also portraying a more existential emotion. Aside from the meaning behind this piece, I also find her anatomy and form very beautiful--I like the look of the veins on her arms and the rib cage you can see on her chest.

While there were a few exhibits I didn't like (that's a given at almost every museum I visit), there were a number of exhibits and pieces that I enjoyed. As I discussed previously, I am honestly tired of artists claiming the significance of their work in the name of modernity. I think this leads to craft being lost within the work and a lot of repetitive designs. Artists like Mondrian and Still created captivating art that's considered modern because they were creating works that haven't really been seen before. As traditional art was their predecessor, their work rebelled against conformity. Mondrian upheld the craft within his work by creating beautiful clean lines that balance color. While Still also upheld craft, he also had "life-lines" in his work that really reveal his reflections on his own life. In both these examples, these artists helped define modern art; the work was modern. I think modern art--as a whole--needs to become modernized. Galleries and museums should give space to artists who create unique works that uphold craft. MMCA is one of the museums that I believe does this.

As sort of a side tangent, Mark Whalen, Cleon Peterson, and Bebhinn Eilish are active artists whose work I absolutely love. While I am not a fan of Mark Whalen's most recent sculptural creations, I love his pictures from the early 2000s-ish. I also like Cleon Peterson's earlier work and am a huge fan of Bebhinn Eilish's work. I've included pictures and links below showing off these works. I highly encourage you to watch the full videos for Mark Whalen and Cleon Peterson (they are very interesting) and to scroll through Bebhinn Eilish's work (she also has an Instagram).

Dojang Carving Class

March 5th 2023

A dojang, 도장, is a personalized stamp that Koreans use as a form of a signature. This class was taught by Helen in Insadong. She explained that many Koreans are given three different stamps over the course of their life. The first one is given at birth, the second given upon completion of elementary school, and the third given upon completion of high school. These stamps are normally hidden in safes and are used as signatures when buying a house or getting married; these stamps are registered with the government. Helen was given a fourth one when she started her job at a bank. I appreciated how she shared her story about how she got into this craft. Helen was working very hard to try to move her way up but when she had children, her company was less than accommodating. When forced to choose either her work or her kids, she chose her kids. She became very depressed and was recommended to try caligraphy and stone carving. Through this artistic process, she began to heal and eventually took a loan to open up her own studio--the studio where this class was held. 

I was appreciative of her sharing this story with me and another girl who was taking the class. It's interesting to hear how she used art to help her heal and find a new direction in life. 

I enjoyed the carving process a lot. the stamp is a solid block of jade and we were given a small hand tool to carve out the design we wanted. After some practice strokes on the side and a number of sketches, I went to work making the face of my stamp. For doing this the first time, I was actually really happy with how my stamp turned out and am glad I could incorporate both the Hangeul and English form of my name. I might actually stamp the back of art I make in the future with this.

I was so scared to go to South Korea. The night before an early morning flight, it started to hit me that I was leaving. I was spending time with my boyfriend, Joey, and as I began to leave I started sobbing. Months of planning, I kept telling myself that I would leave in a few months. But then, a few months turned into tomorrow. And my distanced feelings were brought into the foreground.

Even before then, I was hesitant about going to South Kore after a 10-week internship in Utah. Those 10 weeks felt like an eternity and I missed my life: my mom, Joey, and my cat. However with this feeling came the thought of "when will I have this opportunity again?" Almost conceding to the former point, you (you-who-are-most-likely-Justin) told me about your experience studying abroad in China. If there's anything I've learned in the past, it is to take advice when you need it and sometimes when you don't think you need it.

During my time at Mines, I have gotten do consumed by studying. Yes, this can be good because realistically I just need to grind for 4 (probably 4.5-5) years to get my degree that will help me with the rest of my future. But to do this, I have sacrificed so much of myself. Joey has actually helped me calm down a little more and enjoy life, but my average week consists of school, studying, researching, and more school. Time goes by so quickly with this life. I remember at the end of my freshman year when people were posting about all the new friends they've made and activities they've done. I realized--wow... I haven't made a single friend the entire year, I've lost my high school friends, and I haven't been anywhere except school or coffee shops.

Back to before I left. My life felt good. Although I had some family problems I didn't know how to deal with, I was happy with what I had. I'm in the healthiest relationship I've ever had, my grades are good, I can have lunch with my mom, and I have my cat to come home to. On the other side, I know no Korean, I know no one in Korea, I've never been to Korea/Asia, and ultimately I was putting a pause on everything I had good for something I had no clue about. It was a gamble.

With my practicum's "meaning" or "purpose" aside, this practicum experience has led me down rabbit holes and into opportunities; I don't think I could find or experience anywhere else. I enjoy that there are open expectations but still a feeling of needing to pursue a level of excellence. I wasn't really sure what "Explore your World" meant, but I'm beginning to realize it's an adaptable phrase unique to each person.

My world was one where I wanted nothing less than perfection-- straight As, beautiful drawings, insightful essays, and general success. My mood and emotions mirrored my performance but were weighted down more on the negative side. Success gave a burst of joy that was replaced by a feeling of "well I need to do even better" and failures led to panic attacks and depressive episodes. I determined my worth solely off of my performance.

My practicum helped me deconstruct and rebuild my world. Straight As forgo worth for simply measuring learning. Attempting first-attempt perfect drawings have been replaced by exploring the details of a place or person. Thoughtful reflections take the place of wanting the most creative essay I could write (that then doesn't make any sense). An eastern perspective and appreciation has joined a western one.

Though daunting and sometimes challenging, I'm so glad I'm here.

Honestly, I didn't want to go into detail about this experience but I think it was significant enough to talk about. Maybe not directly relating to my practicum. I don't know what it relates to... but this is also my website so I'm just going to add this. 

At Yonsei, there is a club called Yonsei Global. This club sends out posting for different types of events to do in South Korea. The groups are set up where half the group are Yonsei students (from Korea) and the other half of the group are exchange students. It's really competitive to get into a program because a lot of people are trying to sign up for it. The program I was particularly drawn to was a three-day program: a day of watching a cultural performance, a day of making traditional pottery, and (what I was less interested in) was a day of wearing hanbok. I know that Jason (another McBride student that went to Korea) told me to try hanbok, but this is normally not really my "thing." As I normally dress darker and less girly, I was a little nervous about dressing this way (even if it was only for a day). 

Because I wanted to do the other two events badly, I decided I would try it even if I was uncomfortable. So I did. 

We rented hanbok from a store that carried hundreds of dresses. I picked out a darker blue dress but was told it was too short and too wide. Long story short, there was only one dress in the entire store that they said would fit me. And it was burgundy. With a yellow top. After realizing I didn't really have a choice I just wore whatever they handed to me. It was hilarious how uncomfortable I felt, I have never looked like this before. (This whole experience definitely made me reflect on the Fashioning the Future class I had with Melanie)

As everyone else was wearing more neutral/pastel-colored tones, I felt like I had a tattoo on my forehead saying something along the lines of ATTENTION-HERE-IS-A-WHITE-GIRL-LOOKING-RIDICULOUS-WEARING-A-TRADITIONAL-KOREAN-GARMET. However, as the day went on, I focused more on having a good time with the other people in the group (they were--like all my other experiences--very nice).

Aside from this weird "princess" experience, I was also reflecting on cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation. We talked about this a bit in Meanie's class, but most of the time was focused on me and my partner presenting what we thought the difference was. I think on a surface level, it feels like appropriation in the sense that I am--with no background in Asia--wearing a traditional piece of clothing that has a lot of significance for Koreans. However, thinking about it more, I think more can be learned about the culture through different activities like hanbok wearing. Obviously, this would be a different story if I just wore this traditional dress in the US to school or something, but the experience here allowed me to learn about traditional dress and who normally wore it, and where they wore it. It was interesting to also see the different variations of hanbok from the more traditional styles to the more contemporary styles.

So I honestly got so lucky with this tour. While on another tour in February, I was told by the tour guide that her boss just said that JSA would be opening and their company would be the only one able to guide the tour. To be honest, I did not know what JSA was. I of course knew about the DMZ and the blue houses but was unaware of the JSA name. I signed up for a slot in March but it ended up getting filled and I was pushed to go in April--almost a month and a half later. Now, this tour is completely booked until June.

Originally there was a 9 am pick-up time, however, was changed to 4:50 am because of a military notice. As no buses or subways or anything run at that time, I had to wake up at 3 am so I could walk to get there in time. Walking directions are horrible here. They practically don't exist. I can use Apple Maps but it usually gives me poor walking directions... sometimes walking directions on highways... So, this morning I had to make some pretty stupid decisions to get to the meet-up point on time. I walked through a highway tunnel that had some construction (giving me a little space to walk and some bad looks from the construction people), walked through fairly dark streets, and some guy on a motorbike stopped in the middle of the street and faced me to rev his bike (turning around and leaving when I ignored him). Was this my best decision? No. Was I desperate to get on time? Yes. As embarrassing and stressful as this was, I used a country music playlist for comfort and told myself I would never do something like this again. With as ridiculous as that whole experience was, I made it! All 40 of us gathered on the bus and headed over to the DMZ.

The main DMZ area is definitely not what I expected. Yes, there was barbed wire and a military feel to the area. However, there was also--to my astonishment--an amusement park and lots of touristy gift shops. Again, AN AMUSEMENT PARK THAT IS NOT ONLY NEXT TO BUT RIGHT AGAINST THE DMZ WITH NORTH KOREA. Personally, this was weird to me.

The first part of the trip I enjoyed was going through the Third Tunnel that was discovered by SK--North Koreans have made a lot of attempts to tunnel their way into South Korea under the DMZ. Thankfully we were allowed to take a monorail into the tunnel at the last minute. It was a good thing they gave us helmets because I kept hitting my head in the tunnel. The height was maybe around 5 ft so I was crouched down the whole way I was walking. We weren't allowed to take photos. The history is interesting and can be found here. After we moved to watch a movie about the DMZ (which was surprisingly SK-nationalistic) and then looked through some binoculars into North Korea. Because it was a clear day, I was able to see North Koreans walking and riding bikes. I felt sort of weird looking at people as though they were in a zoo...it made me feel a little sad and sick.

The second part of the trip I really enjoyed was (of course) the JSA portion. I have watched so many North Korean documentaries in the past including VICE's famous documentaries (found here and series here) and was really excited to be next to somewhere I've learned a lot about (even if it was still limited information). Opposed to how JSA was before, there were actually no North Korean soldiers outside. It's said to have been like this since COVID--NKs don't want to catch it--and now they sit inside the building looking into South Korea 24/7. In the building, you can see cracks in the door or curtains where there are North Korean soldiers listening and watching. On our side, South Korean guards followed us to keep us in line (there are 2 million undiscovered landmines in South Korea) and prevent anyone from defecting (the joke writes itself). Previous to this experience, we were told a dress code because North Koreans have taken pictures of ill-dressed tourists to show their people how much more affluent North Koreans are than their southern neighbors.

On my way walking back to my dorm, I just had a moment of realization of how much freedom everyone has here. We can dress, eat, go, look, live, do, be, feel, say, think, and exist how we want. Growing up in the US, I definitely have taken this for granted. It was weird to think about how different my life could have been if I was born somewhere else to someone else.

Day Tour of Busan

For the full day I spent in Busan, I signed up for a full day tour--I thought this is the best way to explore the city in the shortest amount of time. It was a small group tour and we saw markets, a buddhist temple, and seaside. Also, when we were visiting one of the markets, I ended up being interviewed by a popular news company in Busan so I might be on the news in June!