Focus on Exhibition
No sooner has the spring wind caressing cheeks urged us to keep our jacket front ajar than the magnolia in the neighbor's front yard is in bud and the windows, the coffee shop terraces and even the school gates are open wide. And in this spring, some have opened their mind toward the world, and others may have opened themselves toward you with the cheeks flushed as if they were heated by the spring wind. I wonder. Are you who read this text opening that huge and heavy door toward the world or yourselves?
Song, Jin-Hwa works keeping the grains and shapes of the tree. Quite naturally, her atelier is full of trees. Some have their original shapes, and others are fragrant enough to fill the room with the flavor. However, there are many trees bent, twisted or eaten by worms. I wonder if such trees can be used for her sculpture. Nevertheless, she does not paste or cut them by force. Nodes and worm-eaten parts remain on the works. To her, keeping grains and shapes of the trees is more meaningful than simply forming the works. If you follow the grains and shapes, you will ultimately meet the process of growth or the history of life. The trees which were born, grew and now have become the artist's objects keep their own small history in the their annual rings hidden. Cutting the tree following its grains is a journey tracing back to the process of its life as well as artist's way of talking with it. While she talks with the tree, she ruminates on the grains of her life, her way of life or her personal history. After all, Song, Jin-Hwa's atelier full of trees and her trivial events would turn into a small but complete universe created by herself and her history of work, and the saw dusts and wooden fragments there from continue to encrust her life.
While she has been cutting and refining the trees to produce complete works or just dispose the unsatisfactory semi-works in her atelier, she must have agonized much, experiencing various trials and errors. Anyway, the numerous personal events about the artist herself and her trees are combined for some universal validity. While she is revealing the grains of her life through her works, Song, Jin-Hwa discloses our stories one by one advertently or inadvertently, each of which is valid universally. And the works become a tree mirror, saying, 'Please, tell me the story about you mirrored on me.'
Just as the trees in her atelier do, her works wish the spectators to talk about their long journey of life open-mindedly. I wonder. Who are you and who is the woman standing beside you? I would like to urge you to illuminate your body and your inside on the tree mirror wrought by Song, Jin-Hwa. And I wish that her solo exhibition at UNC Gallery this time would provide you with an opportunity to read 'your complete history' you have built up so far, whether it is long or short. Just as the artist Song, Jin-Hwa talks about her life quietly and smiling through her works sculptured following her life course, so you may talk about your own stories open-heartedly before the works displayed at the exhibition.
Now, she is speaking to you.
"Now, open your mind,
yourselves standing before the mirror.
In a louder voice.
You are such a women."
Song, Jin-Hwa Press Release as pdf-File in Korean language