"Once my fortune teller told me that I have five horses.
Five horses in my fortune, in my life. That means that I
travel a lot. I’m destined to leave home and live somewhere
else and travel to many places...that’s a story."
"The experience was about transporting space from one
place to the other. A way of dealing with cultural displacement."
"In Korea we call people who keep traditional techniques
and craftmanship alive national treasures."
"In the traditional house you hang white papers on
the wall. And on the ceiling you have this sky blue or jade
colored wallpaper. It symbolizes the sky or universe. That
house is for the scholar, so when they study in that room
the color allows them to think about the universe or a bigger
space, things like that. So I used that color for my piece."
What was your training in art
in Korea like? What did you study?
SUH:
It was a traditional painting
technique that I learned there.
Basically ink on rice paper. Mostly black and white, with
a very flexible brush. For the first through the second year
of college you train how to use your brush well and how to
grind your ink well. Very ritual kinds of things. And then
once you get comfortable with the brush, in other words, once
you reach the point where you can have a really good-quality
line, then you can actually paint or draw what you want. So
it was a rather boring process.
And there were many different classes for example, like calligraphy.
I’m really bad at that and I’m probably worse than
you. But I was able to sort of get around it. It was senior
year, I think, when I was able to do something I wanted. More
creative stuff. Teachers didn’t allow us to really explore
many different things. That’s something that I really
regret. We never had a crit, and it was only one direction—from
teacher to the students. There was no exchange or dialogue
between the teacher and student. If the teacher says something
then you just have to follow that.
So it was very awkward and at the same time interesting when
I first came to the United States. One thing was my English,
but at the same time I wasn’t really trained to express
my feelings or thoughts on art. I was not trained to do that
at all. So it took me an entire semester to just say, "I
like this work" or "I don’t like this work."
And then, gradually, I started to learn how to talk about
my art. And ironically, I had never talked about my art in
Korean before. Even though my English is not good, I think
I feel more comfortable actually talking about my work in
English than in Korean. That’s something that I find
interesting. So when I give a lecture in Korea, for example,
I realize myself actually translating my thoughts in English
into Korean. So yeah, it’s a funny thing.
ART:21:
Is language the only thing that's
been a real challenge for you?
SUH:
When I go back to Korea, Seoul
is a very crowded city and on the street people bump into
each other. And somebody could just hit your shoulder and
that’s normal. So nobody complains about it. But I realize
that’s different here. And when I go back to Korea, when
somebody touches my body I get really annoyed. So I think
since I've spent eleven years here in the States, my perception
of this personal space, this dimension, has changed. So that’s
something that I found quite interesting.
ART:21:
And that's related to your evolving
work "Seoul Home/L.A. Home..."
SUH:
I would say the Korean House
project started from this need to fulfill a certain desire
when I graduated from RISD. I was in New York for a year before
I went to grad school. I was living on 113th Street, near
Columbia. And my apartment building was right across the street
from the fire station. And it was really, really noisy and
I couldn’t sleep well. And I was thinking when it was
my last time to have a really good sleep. And that was in
a small room back in Korea. And I wanted to bring the house
somehow to my New York apartment. So that’s where everything
started. So I started to think about the materials and the
practicality of that project or the possibility of the project.
And the choice of fabric came very naturally. Literally, I
was going to install that fabric Korean house in my New York
apartment, but apparently my apartment was much smaller so
I couldn’t really do it. But it turned out to be a project
later. I did do a test because it was a fairly large project
for me to tackle at that time. I did the test in my small
studio
in New York in muslin cloth. And it worked. But I didn’t
have time and money to actually do the Korean House project
until 1999.
ART:21:
What was that experience in your
studio about?
SUH:
The experience was about transporting
space from one place to the other. A way of dealing with cultural
displacement.
And I don’t really get homesick, but I’ve noticed
that I have this longing for this particular space and I want
to recreate that space or bring that space wherever I go.
So the choice of the material, which was fabric, was for many
reasons. I had to make something that’s light and transportable.
So something that you can fold and put in a suitcase and bring
with you all the time.
That’s actually what happened when I first made that
piece, the Korean House project. I brought that piece in my
suitcase—two suitcases—to L.A. where I showed that
piece for the first time, at the L.A. Korean Culture Center.
It was about challenging this notion of site specificity because
the piece was made inside the house. Everything was made in
that space, so it was a site specific installation.
But once you take that piece down from its own site and display
and transport it in a different place, this idea of the site
specific becomes highly questionable and reputable. And that’s
what I was really interested in, because in my mind I think
this notion home is something that you can infinitely repeat.
ART:21:
What do you mean by that?
SUH:
I mean at some point in your
life you have to leave your home. And whenever you go back
it’s just not the same home anymore. I think home is
something that you carry along with your life. That’s
what I mean by it’s something that you can repeat over
and over again. I just dealt with that issue visually. In
a physically minimum way, it’s this light fabric thing
that can recreate this ambiance of a space. I didn’t
want to sit down and cry for home. I wanted to more actively
deal with these issues of longing. I decided not to be sad
about it. I just want to go with it. I just want to carry
that with me, you know, all the time.
I think the process of making the Korean project has a really
important meaning to it because in order to make that piece
you have to measure every inch of the space. And you really
get to know the space and you often find little marks that
you did when you were a kid and that brings all the memories
of your childhood. And when you go through that process, this
space becomes part of you and you really feel like you know
it. It’s in you and you can actually leave home without
any kind of attachments. Does that make sense? I mean, I would
say it’s one way of dealing with homesickness.
I had a conversation with a friend of mine the other day:
"It seems like it’s a lot of sacrifice for you,
that you have to deal with the cultural barrier, language,
you know, it’s a kind of constant thing. And at the same
time, you have this homesickness." She asked me whether
I have homesickness or not. I told her that I don’t have
that much homesickness, but if there’s something I miss
it’s probably my parents’ house in Korea and my
mom’s home cooking. So I decided to learn her recipe,
everything, and just practice that recipe with her every time
I go back to Korea and then make those recipes mine. And then
it becomes my recipe so I don’t really have to miss that
because I can make that. And then I decided to make this into
some kind of project. I want to make my mom’s cookbook.
It’s a very simple thing, but in a way it’s kind
of the same project as my Korean House project, but in a different
kind of form.
ART:21:
And where is home now?
SUH:
It’s really a tough question,
actually. Like I said before, once you leave home then it’s
not the same anymore. I mean, you miss certain things, but
whenever you go back it doesn’t meet your expectation
because you change and things change over there too. Intrinsically
this awkwardness and unfamiliarity, being in different cultures,
will remain with me for the rest of my life. But I found every
time I come back to New York, I feel like certain things are
very comfortable because I’m surrounded by more strangers
than in Seoul. Somehow that makes me more comfortable so I
can relax more here. I’m telling my friends now that
"Oh, New York feels like my home now." Just because
of that. So you too can have more quiet time here.
ART:21:
Do you think of yourself as an
international voyager?
SUH:
Well at least I have means to
travel. At least I can say I’m living in this era that
these means to travel are available. So if I want, I can go
back to my home, to my parents' place. It’s not that
much of a problem I think. But I wouldn’t say that I’m
an international voyager or whatever, not yet I don’t
think. But I spend a lot of time on the airplane. And I’m
not in one place. Just in between, definitely, that’s
how I feel.
ART:21:
What prompted you to move to
the United States?
SUH:
Once my fortune teller told me
that I have five horses. Five horses in my fortune, in my
life. That means that I travel a lot. I’m destined to
leave home and live somewhere else and travel to many places...that’s
a story. It’s something that I realized fairly recently,
but I think I also wanted to leave home because of my father.
He was a successful painter, very successful. I think I was
doing really well back there too, but I think somehow I felt
that his fame overshadowed me and I wanted to do my own things
without any kind of attachment to my family background or
my father. So I think that was probably the main reason, but
I wasn’t really sure. I didn’t really realize that
in Korea, but now I think it was probably the main drive to
come here. Like whatever I do, people always connect me to
my father and you know this is through village kid and so
on and so forth. I think more independently here because whatever
I do here, if I fail it’s all my fault. I kind of like
that idea. And if I make it, then that means I started from
scratch all by myself and I think that’s more meaningful
than doing something in Korea. So I think that’s it.
And I had other reasons to come, but that was more related
to my first marriage. My ex-wife was Korean but born in the
States and she was studying here, so it was a pretty natural
way to come. Right after we married I came here.
ART:21:
Can you talk about the process
of making the Korean House project?
SUH:
The "Seoul Home/L.A. Home"
project is actually the first kind of project that I've collaborated
on with so many people. And not just numbers of people, but
also people from different fields. My mom helped me to find
right fabric. She introduced me to many different fabric manufacturers.
So for that piece the fabric was custom-made. I couldn't find
the right color, so we produced for that specific color. And
also , she knows a lot of seam dressers, old ladies, national
treasures. It's kind of an awkward term. I'm just translating
literally. In Korea we call people who keep traditional techniques
and craftmanship alive national treasures. And those old ladies
helped me to make small ornaments on the pieces. And they
taught me how to sew certain seams. I mean it's hard to see
the difference, but there are many different kinds of sewing.
And my main assistant, he studied industrial design
at college and he worked with me together at the planning
stage. So there were a lot of people involved, always. I do
something always totally different each time. And for example,
those seam dressers, they only make traditional dresses and
had never done these things like this. So at the beginning
it was kind of difficult to explain the scope of project.
But they catch things so fastly, catch up so fast. And they
really got into the project. And I see that all the time,
because it's something that they don't do normally so I think
they found it interesting. I like that when it happens.
ART:21:
What is the signifigance of the
color of the piece?
SUH:
The color of "Seoul Home/L.A.
Home" is a kind of light jade color, or celadon color.
I just picked the color from the ceiling wallpaper in the
traditional Korean house. In the traditional house you hang
white papers on the wall. And on the ceiling you have this
sky blue or jade colored wallpaper. It symbolizes
the sky or universe. That house is for the scholar, so when
they study in that room the color allows them to think about
the universe or a bigger space, things like that. So I used
that color for my piece.
ART:21:
The scholar's house was the original
model for the piece? What was it like visiting that original
house?
SUH:
Yes, my parent's house was modeled
after this civilian style scholar's house which was built
in a palace complex in the early 19th Century. And my house
project, "Seoul Home/L.A. Home," is the replica
of the interior of my parent's house.
I was walking with my mom and that was my first visit since
my parents and me and my brother first visited that palace
complex in the early seventies. So we're talking about changes.
And because it was a very memorable experience for me, we
went there to measure the original house in the palace complex
with a couple of engineers and architects.
We took the entire day to measure it and my mom and I talked
about this wild pear tree in the garden. And it was there
in seventies and still it was there and so we talked about
that. And I told her that the house looked much smaller than
I thought. Because I was little, so everything looked probably
bigger. And most of the time I was upset because the house
wasn't maintained well enough. My mom is involved with renovating
that palace complex and she has to face a lot of obstacles.
Mostly bureaucratic problems and things like that. And we
talked about that. And because my parent's house was just
part of that complex, so much smaller, just one section of
the house was the master's quarter. So it was interesting
to see that segment in the larger context.
