You-Seok's ceramic works: 2015 ceramic canvas

“The unbearable lightness of existence”

If the importance of existence must be compared between its “lightness” and “heaviness”, then are all light existences in this world meaningless? Clay, or earth, is heavy. Humans, at the end of their lives, must go back to that earth. I work with heavy clay. And ultimately, my work is called by a heavy name, ceramics. However, the actual weight of my works is light. The lightness of the weight of my works may make it seem meaningless, and the results may feel distant to the endurance that the heavy human must go through. However, I have always longed to lighten the great meanings that the heaviness of existence provides. Heaviness is not always important, and lightness is not always trivial.

I start my work by melting clay in water in order to lighten the heaviness of the clay. Then, I brush the clay water hundreds of times on a metal mesh, as if to create sediments, to form a thin clay tablet. The hundreds of repetitive brushing not only deposits clay, it also deposits time. Second by second, time is deposited until it becomes one minute, ten minutes, one hour... Time is sedimented layer by layer along with every brush stroke. The clay tablet that is formed is different from the heaviness that clay itself possesses; it is light. However, the marks of time that have been covered by layers of clay water and my seemingly unending labor are not light; they are heavy. At times during the repetitive brushings that I perform, happiness passes by the tip of my head, while at other times, the weight of life presses on me while I struggle to continue brushing. In this way, my emotions are also deposited within the clay tablet.

The hardened clay tablet goes into the kiln and comes out as a bisque.The bisque firing turns the clay tablet into pottery; the essence of the pottery's existence is heavy, yet I feel light. Then, heaviness is instilled upon the pottery through colors, and glaze firing takes place. After glazing in 1260 degrees of heat, the surface cracks and falls away as if to expose my emotions that were deposited within. I make an effort to hide my exposed emotions by filling the cracked, broken crevices with clay water and drying it. But for reasons untold, I carefully peel it off again. The color and surface that gradually reveal themselves while I peel off the clay that had once covered the pottery are no longer light. Once the pottery goes back into the kiln, the surface becomes completely fixed. The lightness of its existence creates an unbearable weight in the eyes of the perceiver.

These light existences express the emotions contained within them by being gathered in twos or fours based on their symmetry and asymmetry. I categorize these as antonyms, synonyms, and polysemies. Human emotion is delicate; it cannot be determined as a single state. These delicate emotions become more distinct through opposing emotions. An opposing force that corresponds to a certain emotion makes it more distinct. Likewise, a similar force helps clarify both emotions. Furthermore, diversity enables a single emotion to become more clear. The emotions expressed within a piece can collide antonymously with one another. At times, they synonymously rely on and support each other. At other times, diverse connections create rich emotions, just as language evolved into an almost infinite amount of antonyms, synonyms, and polysemies in order to clarify complex human emotions. Mark Rothko once said, "I'm not an abstractionist. I'm interested only in expressing basic human emotions." I repeatedly think this to myself and long to become like him.

Another reason I wish to lighten the weight of existence is because I do not wish to enforce meaning upon others. Enforcement may insult others, and it may also act as a form of intangible violence regardless of art not being able to possess physical force.

My life of 40 years has not always been smooth sailing. The weight of my wound-filled life always longed for healing. Perhaps ceramic art has been that healing process for me. Just as the self-discipline-inducing process of creating a piece has healed a few wounds in my heart, I have a longing to touch people's hearts in a gentle, echo-like manner through this exhibition. A limitation I realized was that the conditions of my kiln did not permit size. However, I am making an effort to overcome this limitation. Pottery, even though it is enlarged in size, possesses an unchanging lightness. As I look forward to the light, yet unbearable existence of pottery, I start my work again.