THERE IS WATER INSIDE: 안에 물이 들어있어요

22.07.07(THU) - 07.20(WED)ADM GALLERY 4F

박도윤

EXHIBITION NOTE

작가 박도윤은 대학에서 조소를 전공했다. 학부 초기 인체 조형을 통해 ‘경계’라는 개념에 관심을 가지게 됐고 작업을 계속하면서 점차 ‘구조’와 ‘체계’를 다루기 시작했다. 이후 유학생활을 통해 다른 언어가 만들어내는 다른 사고체계를 접하면서 ‘언어’에 집중했다. 이를 바탕으로 문자, 또는 책을 작업의 주요한 소재로 삼아 세계를 구성하는 여러 체계들의 가변적 속성에 대한 작업을 이어왔다. 이러한 일련의 과정에는 나름의 인과성이 분명 존재했음에도 불구하고, 작가는 작업을 연속하는 데에 어려움을 마주하게 된다. 이번 전시 <안에 물이 들어 있어요>에서 작가는 스스로의 고민을 파고들어 처음으로 돌아가, 경계가 자신의 역할을 수행하기 이전의 근본적 조건과 상태에 대한 이야기를 풀어내고자 한다.

“작업을 하도록 추동하는 심상들이 있었습니다. 이름과 역할로 나뉘지 않은 관계, 경험과 시야로 제한되지 않은 풍경, 작품이 되지 않은 형태, 글이 되지 않은 생각… 작업을 하는 동안 이 심상들을 마음에 간직하는 것 외에 다른 생각들은 가능한 한 하지 않으려고 애썼습니다. 이번 전시를 통해 언어로 제한되지 않은 각자의 심상들을 얻어가시길 바랄 뿐입니다.” - 박도윤

 

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CONTENTS

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Our language is different from Chinse, and the two ciuntries’ characters do not match. For this reason, my foolish people want to write something, but they could have pitied my people, and I made 28 letters. I wish all my people would easily learn these new letters and make their lives more convenient.

Till I die, looking up the sky, let me have not a single blot of shame. By nothing but a wind coming up to a leaf, I’ve been tortured. With a heart singing a star, I would love all the things that are dying.

Then, I should walk the way given to me. Tonight again, the star is flitted by the wind.

 

 

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Till I die, looking up the sky, let me have not a single blot of shame. By nothing but a wind coming up to a leaf, I’ve been tortured. With a heart singing a star, I would love all the things that are dying. Then, I should walk the way given to me. Tonight again, the star is flitted by the wind. Memory for one star, Love for another star, Loneliness for another star, Longing for another star, Poetry for another star, And, oh, mother, mother for another star.

 

 

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Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood and looked down one as far as I could to where it bent in the undergrowth. Then took the other, as just as fair, and having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear. Though as for that the passing there had worn them really about the same. and both that morning equally lay in leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day ! Yet knowing how way leads on th way. I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh. Somewhere ages and ages hence. Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by. And that has made all the difference.

 

 

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Until East Sea dries up and Mt. Baekdu wears away, Long live ur homeland, under God's blessing! O six thousand furlongs of range and river, bedecked with roses of Sharon, We Koreans shall long preserve thee as Korea. As that pine tree standing ironclad on the mountain before, Unchanging is our spirit, come wind, come frost. O six thousand furlongs of range and river, bedecked with roses of Sharon, We Koreans shall long preserve thee as Korea.

 

 

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In the clear and vast autumn sky, high and cloudless, The bright moon represents our sincere and steadfast heart. O six thousand furlongs of range and river, bedecked with roses of Sharon, We Koreans shall long preserve thee as Korea. With this spirit, heart, and utmost loyalty, Let us love our country, come grief, come joy. O six thousand furlongs of range and river, bedecked with roses of Sharon, We Koreans shall long preserve thee as Korea.

 

 

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My love has gone. My sweet love has gone. Torn away from me and gone, down the short path that formed, towards the severed mountain light and maple grove. Promises of old, once as firm and as bright as the Golden Flower, turn into dust, floating away in a single breath. The piercing memories of that first kiss, which spun the threads of my fate, retreat then evanesce. I was blinded by your beauty, deafened by your sweet voice.

 

 

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Love is a man’s affair. Despite the careful eye we kept and fear we held for parting when we first met, my heart tore afresh with grief at such a sudden farewell. Yet, I know that making farewell the source of all these futile tears will only crush love itself. So I take these uncontrollable forces of sorrow and baptize myself in new hope. Just as we dread parting when we meet, we believe that we’ll meet again when we part.  Oh, my love has gone. But, I didn't send her away. The song of love, overcome by its own melody, wraps itself around the silence of love.

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