Wonmi Seo
You were born and raised in Seoul. How was it growing up there and how did you know you wanted to be an artist?
Like many other metropolises, Seoul is a concentrated, busy, and hectic city. My generation’s parents tend to be dual-income; therefore, it was common that I stay alone at home and draw by myself. As drawing and painting have been something that I did on most days, I didn’t need a specific event or to make a decision to become an artist. It happened naturally.
What does your process look like?
Depending on the series or the characteristics of the work, the process varies. Some start off with collaging photographs, drawing exercises, and then I go onto the painting process, whereas others may start with a single motif on an empty canvas. Therefore, the duration of each work varies significantly too. Despite the size of the work, some are completed in a couple of days, while others may take months. I may start a painting without a sketch when the work values being spontaneous. Even when I do have thorough sketches for the painting, some elements of the painting may change as it evolves. I let the painting itself direct me. Whether I have sketches or not, the final outcome tends to vary from what I have imagined initially and I am satisfied with the change.
The completion of a painting is more of a ‘finding’ — I need to spot that right moment where the painting cries out that it’s done. Stopping to read and understand the painting in depth is the most important part of the process for me.
Death seems to be an important theme, throughout different projects you worked on. How did this become an important topic for you?
Since I was little, I thought about ‘death’ frequently and was afraid of it. I was curious why others don’t do the same. When I get a sore on my tongue, I continue to feel it, press it. Initially, it stings, then I concentrated on the pain. The sensation itself becomes foreign at last. The same approach applies to my interest towards death. When I continue to be forward towards my fear, it becomes impersonal and I am able to see the landscape of my feelings.
In personal experience, my healthy brother, returning from the army (Korean male serves the compulsory military service), suffered from Guillain–Barré syndrome leaving him only the skin and the bone and it left me traumatized.
Black curtain series, inspired by the Korean war, how did the series start?
During the Korean war, my grandfather came down to the South from the North, forming a new family, and had my father. He passed away when my father was 12 of a heart attack.
I have not experienced the war myself; however Korean war has not ended since its outbreak 70 years ago.
As so much has happened in Korean history over the past recent years, each and every Korean family holds the history of Korea, like it is in mine. The family history and the uncertainty in Korean society is the reason I began the ‘Black Curtain’ series. I do not understand how the Korean war could stay in history when it is still on hold today.
Introduce our readers to the South Korean art scene. What are the artists that we should know about, in your opinion? Since we focus here on female artists, maybe you can tell us about your favorites too.
Lee Bul, is a great Korean female artist. Her medium is in performance, installation, and so on. Her initial works are especially energetic more so than the artists today. Lee Bul’s installation work nowadays has a great level of completion. Haegue Yang is also one of the internationally renowned artists that I like.
Who influenced you the most, when it comes to your work and technique?
I admire classical painters. Caravaggio, Goya, and Rembrandt’s paintings taught me the characteristics of an oil painting. However, as a sole image, the Chauvet cave was the most shocking. The drawing from tens of thousands of years ago has a strong presence and vitality. I would like to remember and cherish those primitive and sensuous lines.
Photography by Gooyoung Kim, Jeongkyun Goh
https://www.seowonmi.com