In conversation with Youngju Joung
“Home to me means my hometown – it is warm, full of humanity, and symbolises safety and abundance.”
- Youngju Joung
Youngju Joung’s paintings stand out for their quietness. They don’t so much shout as glow – quite literally in many cases, as the shanty village landscapes flicker with the golden light emanating from the windows of homes that stretch out into the horizon.
Though she now lives in Seoul, the South Korean artist is inspired by memories of her childhood town. A subject she would draw from a young age, capturing the sprawling urban scenes, it was on returning from Paris, where she studied Fine Art as a young adult, that she was enamoured once again. She returned home where she climbed Nam Mountain and saw the downtown of Seoul, lit at dusk. Combining this image of Seoul with the images of home from her mind, she now continues to create her unique cityscapes, stretching out beyond view with single storey homes and speckled with flickering lights that hint at a dense yet unseen human presence.
While her paintings are rooted in her remembered experiences, they are also symbolic of Korean society. The city or the hill village reflect poverty and affluence. The artful illumination of these spaces imbues the painted narrow streets, reclining walls and aged rooftops with authenticity; these spaces feel inherently lived-in, as if you could inhabit them yourself.
As much as these paintings are peacefully enchanting, they are also technically so unique. Youngju Joung creates her paintings by first crumpling and unfolding a traditional Korean paper called hanji, which is often used in homes to absorb warmth. By creasing, scratching and wrinkling the paper, the artist evokes a way of life that feels authentically dilapidated, used and reused; and yet it retains a distinctly warm and peaceful atmosphere. The medium itself has endured a wearing process, just as the buildings it presents.
These paintings do not beautify or exaggerate, they are honest representations of exposed bricks, slate rooftops and rusted gates. These homes are reflections of their humble occupants, dimly lit and ageing, we are absorbed into this world at a fleeting moment of natural beauty before darkness descends. At the centre of this peaceful transition lies a sacred domestic routine, where each light represents a life, faintly glowing amongst the hum of the living city.
Your exhibition at Almine Rech is titled Way Back Home – where was home for you as a child?
When I was young, my home was in the outskirts of Seoul. I was born in 1970 and Korea was poor at that time. Like the scenery in my painting, there were many shanty villages, side by side mixed with tile-roofed houses. That was where I was born. The villagers shared their affection, grew close, and lived hard. It was not a famous place, but a village where ordinary people lived together.
And is there an emotional feeling that to you defines the idea of ‘home’?
Home to me means my hometown – it is warm, full of humanity, and symbolises safety and abundance.
Some of your landscapes have a particular-coloured hue. Is there a reason behind these choices?
The colours are visually expressing the emotions I feel in each work. This also depends on the time, and the feel of the season.
Your most recent paintings are full of golden light. Is there a spiritual element to this? How long have you incorporated this feature and why is it important to you?
Gold is a colour that has been used for many reasons in the past, and was used here as a way to brighten the shabby shack with an element of hope. At one point when I was having a hard time, I looked at the shanty house and it looked like me. I wanted to give myself hope, so I started drawing on the subject of the shanty town in this way and drew light as a symbol of warm comfort and hope.
Please can you describe how you use hanji paper in your works? What is the process you employ and is there a deeper significance to why you use it (rather than any other type of paper, for example)?
My skills in using hanji have evolved little by little from 2008 to now. Hanji has the characteristic of absorbing light and emitting warmth, which is in line with the meaning of my work. I sketch on a canvas, crumple and unfold Korean paper on each side, cut it, paste it, carve it with a knife to make it one by one, dry it, and paint over the top.
And is there a reason why you never portray figures in your work?
People are like home to me. Because home is people for me. So each house represents the person himself.
How do you see your practice developing in the near future? What would be your dream project?
I plan to draw a landscape incorporating nature – with the idea that nature will also disappear, just like my hometown is disappearing. Of course, I will continue to use Korean paper…and the techniques will continue to evolve and change. Because I always like to study and explore.
And a quick fire 5:
Any upcoming projects of note that you can discuss?
We are considering a solo exhibition and museum exhibition in New York.
What have been the most rewarding moments of your career thus far?
When people say they are comforted by my paintings.
What’s the best advice you have ever received?
Don’t lose your warmth.
What do you love about London?
London is a place where the past and the present come together well. This is a very enviable point.
‘Way back home’ by Young ju Joung runs at Almine Reach London until 21 December 2024. alminerech.com