Optical Landscape: Seeing the World Through a Blue Lens
Perception – Just Looking (2012-2014) and Blue Scape – Just Looking (2015-2016) are the titles of the paintings carefully chosen by artist Chung Young-hwan himself. Subtle changes are found in his artworks over time, but nothing significant or prominent that can differentiate Chung’s old works from new ones. Putting these elusive changes aside, the artist has consistently worked on the same theme and the same form over a certain period of time. In this context, the slight changes and variations that are noticeable in a series of his works can be considered a process or an attempt to enhance the sensational completeness of paintings.
This kind of consistency may be a product of Chung’s strong belief on the theme and form that he has chosen for his work. Finding which theme and form that the artist selected is key to understanding his work. As suggested by the overarching theme, Chung’s paintings are full of landscapes in blue. It seems that the artist first sees through bluescape and delves into the process of perception and cognition. Or he may be coming from the opposite end of the spectrum by starting with a question on the process of perception and cognition and arriving at bluescape. At any rate, Chung ponders over the question of “seeing” through his work, posing a big question about painting itself: how to integrate the question of visuals with that of representations and the question of “seeing” with that of painting. In this way, Chung not only explores these questions about not only his work but also painting in general. In other words, the process of painting and questioning the essence of painting may coincide (the paradigm of modernism) or the subtle act of self-reflection and self-criticism on painting may be performed through a work of art as a medium (meta painting).
What exactly is “seeing (or the question of visuals)” which forms the basis of these acts and conducts? What does “seeing” mean? When people see an object, they analyze, evaluate and judge, going beyond looking at it. To put it another way, “seeing” is a comprehensive and simultaneous act of viewing while analyzing, evaluating and judging. These actions occur almost instantly and automatically, which make it difficult to differentiate the process of perception from that of cognition. Such processes are driven and underpinned by our animal-like senses such as the law of self-preservation and the principle of homeostasis (if these senses are harmed in any way, our survival will be threatened) as well as accumulated experiences based on senses (sensory experiences).
Can an optional act of individuals be added to these processes or what occurs simultaneously while seeing? Don’t we all want to see the world the way we like to see it? To put it into perspective, it comes down to the question of seeing what we want to see, how we want to see it. The process of perception and cognition through the act of “seeing” is closely linked to our desires. The act of “seeing” is not objective (the act itself is subjective since it differs from a mere response). Each of us sees and interprets the same object (or event) differently since we have different desires (as well as a much different sense of self-awareness, environment, humanities background, interests and relations). This explains why reality is difficult to achieve and realism remains valid consistently, and also why rhetorics such as “true” is often added before the word “reality.” To sum up, “seeing” is to desire and to choose. It can also be considered an act to actively express oneself.
Apart from the visual matters, there are other things to consider such as the question of representation and painting. As widely known, representation refers to the attitude of pursuing something that resembles a target object (here, it is limited to physical things) based on senses. According to art historian Ernst Gombrich, representation is a subjective and selective act, which is worthwhile to mention. For example, we can paint an image that look like a spitting image of a target object. But no matter how much the image resembles the object, it can never be treated as the object itself. It is simply an image that bears a striking resemblance to the object. Representation is considered an act of bringing an object into a painting. Through the process of representation, the artist selects one option to depict the object among an infinite number of possibilities, which is called his own technique or method. This applies to all representations without exception, including those that appear to be a duplicate of the object. As I mentioned above, the scope of objects is limited to physical ones for the purpose of this article. But it goes without saying that there are countless options to produce an internal or even a conceptual representation of an object since the same can be said for a physical representation. To put it simply, creating an internal or external representation of an object is to select one option among an unlimited number of possibilities to express the object. Other than this, there is no other way to explain different paintings that all depict the same object.
Both “seeing” and “painting” is a selective act. Visual art and representation are intertwined with desires. The act of “seeing” or creating a “representation” is not an objective phenomenon. Gombrich argues that a painting (, especially and frequently, a representational painting, is a product that is created as a result of close interactions and mutual interferences where expression meddles with representation and objectivity interferes with subjectivity. Chung’s paintings of blue, nature-themed landscape touch upon the questions of “seeing” and “painting” through an active act of selection (where subjectivity and objectivity closely interact with each other), delving into the nature of perception and the essence of painting.
What, how and why does the artist select, how does the selected scene characterize Chung’s work and what effect does it bring? As we all know, his paintings are colored in blue tones as if they are the optical landscape seen through a blue lens. This train of thought suddenly brings back a strange memory of mine. One day, I was looking outside the window covered in yellow cellophane. Although I was enjoying the view at that moment (which was my reality), it seemed as if I was summoning the landscape from the past. It was like the scene from the past was overlapped on the image of the present as if I was watching a scene from an old movie. Like this, colored filters (monochromatic tone) can distort reality. Maybe they delicately and secretly reveal a layer between what’s real and what’s not.
Chung’s paintings are a faithful, sense-based representation of an object at least on the outside. Nevertheless, his use of a single color, blue, provokes a certain feeling, making reality seem somewhat distant and unfamiliar. The monochromatic bluescape is the selected landscape among real landscapes (strictly speaking, a cross section of landscapes). Maybe the artist extracted the color of the atmosphere, the air or the foggy dew at dawn before darkness fades into sunlight to depict the scope of real landscapes (depth and width of landscapes). Additional elements may come into play such as feelings driven by the colors of other natural phenomena. Or the color blue may just be Chung’s way to express an entirely conceptual object (for example, his view of nature) to bring about emotions associated with it. The artist only extracts (selects) the scenes of forests and trees from the landscape and eliminates the rest by leaving them in blank (white). Such technique reminds us of a white empty space in traditional Korean art. In Chung’s paintings, these white spaces are not blanks, but implicit spaces. In other words, they are the places where the audience fills and completes their thoughts, thereby expanding the form and significance of a painting.
Chung’s works of art seem familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. They seem familiar since they are faithful, sensory-based representations of familiar objects, and unfamiliar since only selected scenes of the landscape are painted in blue (as if they are images of an optical landscape) with the rest left in blank unlike the real, colorful world that we live in. In fact, his landscape paintings are edited and reconstructed versions. To put it differently, Chung’s paintings are not an exact copy of the landscape he sees. Instead, he collected partial images of landscape from different sources such as pictures, movies, magazines and Internet sites, and edited and reconstructed on his canvas while creating a few images from imagination. This is how Chung produces a representation of the landscape that he has in mind (ideal landscape or utopia). As you can see, Chung’s works engage the viewer with a sense of familiarity and strangeness at the same time. In this way, the artist brings to light double-sided, multiple layers of a target object, landscape, nature and reality. He uncovers the hidden side (ideal landscape) while painting what’s on the outside (sensory-inspired landscape). Sometimes, the artist intentionally superpose the outer layer on the inner layer to create a single overlapping layer of the landscape.
Against this backdrop, Chung’s paintings can be considered an optical landscape. It is a combination of an extracted and eliminated landscape, and a mixture of an edited and reconstructed landscape. They remind us of something artificial, man-made, mechanical or media-like. His work depicts the landscape and natural sceneries that best fit the modern media landscape. Today, we are bombarded with a countless number of images from a broad range of media including pictures, movies, Internet sites, printer, digital media, Photoshop and social networking sites. We are living in a strange world where we can own and consume images that we like. These images can be easily extracted, eliminated, edited or reconstructed with just one click. A simple access to an immense number of images has an impact on our senses and changes our cognition. This is why many people feel more familiar to images of nature or landscape than real nature or landscape. They think images are much more real, expressive and stimulating than reality. To stretch a bit, images replaced the world (and reality) itself.
In this media-driven world, Chung ingeniously suggests different scenes of nature and landscape through a series of his blue-hued paintings. His depiction of landscape seems familiar and unfamiliar at the same time as well as strange and different, cold, static and silent. It feels like a déjà vu or mirage as if the world is put to a stop and everything is frozen with the time standing still. His landscape paintings cordially invites the audience to open a chasm between reality and unreality. Those with a keen eye may even sense a slight touch of artificial or media lyricism added to his work. Chung says viewers can heal and calm their mind just by looking at his paintings. It may be Chung’s way of connecting and sharing feelings with his audience. Maybe the artist is sending us an invitation to a quasi- or para-utopia in the world where we have lost the meaning of true nature and landscape through his bluescape.
Art Critic Kho Chung-Hwan