LEEKYUNGHO

What Can Artists Do in Response to Global Warming?

 

By Hyejeong Lee (Art Theory)

​

In an era of climate crisis, what role can artists play beyond being "quasi-environmental activists" or "quasi-scientists"? Particularly when the medium is photography, how can they go beyond the documentary conventions of recording the destruction of natural landscapes or the vast industrial panoramas replacing them? While much of the discourse around ecological art in photography focuses on the medium's longstanding aesthetics of "recording" or its role as a sentinel for environmental protection, artist Lee Kyungho offers a different approach—by photographing plastic bags suspended in mid-air.

Lee's ongoing project, colloquially referred to as the "Plastic Bag Series" (officially titled Somewhere), began in 2006 and continues to this day. The series captures plastic bags, ubiquitous in everyday life for carrying groceries or convenience store items, which are often discarded after a single use. These lightweight, tear-resistant, and once freely distributed inventions, which revolutionized modern convenience, are now emblematic of environmental degradation. Lee draws attention to this material, which has become universal and disposable, replacing paper bags globally since the mid-1980s.

Plastic bags are typically made from polyethylene, a petroleum-based product. Roughly 8% of the world's daily oil production is used to manufacture them. Few remember that, when petroleum was first considered as a substitute for coal in the 19th century, it was chosen over hydrogen solely due to its slightly lower development costs—or that plastic bags were initially designed to be reusable, not disposable.

In Lee's Plastic Bag Series, these objects serve as a stark reminder of the environmental consequences of unchecked resource extraction, mass production, and consumption. They highlight the cascading effects of petro-capitalism: resource depletion, waste generation, and global pollution. The plastic bags, photographed floating against iconic backdrops such as the Palace of Versailles, Notre Dame Cathedral, Florence's Duomo, the Great Wall of China, and Venice's St. Mark's Square, appear ghostlike—ubiquitous specters haunting the remnants of human civilization. These images evoke the omnipresence of plastic, the destructive use of materials under capitalism, and humanity's historical legacy, with the bags symbolically orbiting the Earth.

Having studied and worked in Paris from the late 1980s until his return to Korea in 2000, Lee initially engaged in experimental work across various mediums—photography, video, performance, installation, and sculpture—exploring themes such as life and death, money, nihilism, and art. However, following the birth of his son and his own heart surgery in 2010, Lee shifted focus entirely to ecological projects. Even before this shift, plastic bags held metaphorical significance for the artist, who saw them as akin to the fleeting and empty nature of human existence—born empty, briefly filled, then discarded. His early work, such as Traveler (2006), where a plastic bag floated aimlessly in a gallery space propelled by a fan, visualized the helplessness of life swept along by the winds of fate. However, with his ecological pivot, these bags have taken on a new, more purposeful meaning, symbolizing concrete responses to the climate crisis.

The Plastic Bag Series began as photography and later expanded into video works such as On Earth and Humanity (2019). These drone-filmed videos continue to follow the movement of plastic bags across global landscapes, but they mark a significant evolution by introducing human figures. Among them, the artist himself stands motionless amidst bustling crowds, his presence serving as both a representative of humanity and a prophetic figure warning of Earth’s perilous state. By merging his self-portrait with ecological concerns, these videos transcend romanticized landscapes or aestheticized distortions, compelling viewers to confront deeper issues.

The artist's presence within these works provokes fundamental questions about the nature of art and the role of the artist, especially in a time of ecological crisis. Lee’s work ultimately brings us face-to-face with art itself. The locations featured in his Plastic Bag Series often evoke the long arc of human civilization, warning that the climate crisis is, in fact, a crisis for art. Venice’s St. Mark’s Square, which frequently floods, is emblematic of cultural heritage sites at risk due to global warming, while recent research highlights how Mediterranean ruins are increasingly eroded by climate-induced changes. Lee’s works underscore the interconnectedness of environmental destruction and the fragility of human artistic legacy.

This theme of art’s potential demise due to climate change is further explored in Lee’s recent digital work, Deadline 1.5 (2021). Using computer-generated graphics, the piece depicts landmarks such as the Statue of Liberty, Rio de Janeiro’s Christ the Redeemer, Moscow’s Saint Basil's Cathedral, and Seoul’s Gwanghwamun Gate submerged underwater. The title references the 2015 Paris Climate Agreement’s goal to limit global temperature rise to below 2°C, ideally no more than 1.5°C above pre-industrial levels. While earlier works in the Plastic Bag Series refrained from depicting either utopian futures or apocalyptic outcomes, Deadline 1.5 strikes a more urgent tone. Yet, the work concludes with the statement, “Humanity will overcome this crisis as if by a miracle,” though this should not be mistaken for naïve optimism or faith in humanity’s inherent goodness.

Lee frequently invokes the idea of miracles in his work—not as divine interventions but as calls to action. In The Miracle of Humanity (2017), inspired by the biblical story of Moses parting the Red Sea, the title makes clear that it is humanity, not divine forces, that must perform miracles. Similarly, Five Loaves and Two Fish (2017) reimagines the biblical story with humans, rather than Jesus, distributing bread and fish (symbolized by Korean street snacks). For Lee, miracles are not about hope but necessity. Despair cannot be the answer.

Lee Kyungho’s works neither provide simplistic solutions nor merely showcase environmental disasters. Instead, they compel reflection on the aesthetic and ethical responsibilities of artists in responding to global crises. By refusing to abandon hope for humanity, Lee invites us to believe in the possibility of miracles—born not of divine grace but of revolutionary human action.

 

​

The New Journey of Plastic Bags: The "Black White" Series

By Kim Sung-Ho, Art Critic

​

1. Prologue

​

Artist Lee Kyung-Ho has consistently explored themes of art, capital, life, death, and ecological issues through a diverse array of genres, including performance, sculpture, installation, and media art. His notable works include Moonlight Sonata (2004 Gwangju Biennale), which metaphorically represented the citizens of Gwangju lost in revolutionary struggles through keywords like "moon," "lies," and "poverty" using a puffed rice machine; Circulation (2010, 30th Anniversary of the Gwangju Democratization Movement), where ten-won coins symbolized Gwangju citizens; and Vanity of Vanities, All is Vanity (2014), where he displayed gold-plated ten-won coins shortly before undergoing heart surgery. His Jackpot! (2014) satirically critiqued President Park Geun-Hye’s statement at the Davos Forum that “unification is a jackpot.”

Lee’s work is marked by metaphor and critical satire, which address the social demands of his time. Recently, he has shifted his focus to ecological concerns such as global warming. Since 2009, Lee has studied ecological thinker Thomas Berry (1914–2009), joined the research group Earth and Humanity, and delved into topics such as ecological issues, Earth law, and animal rights, which have informed his artistic practice.

In his latest exhibition, Lee unveils a new piece from his "Plastic Bag" series, titled Black White. This work continues to reflect the diverse social concerns that have characterized his practice, with a particular emphasis on the historical and political significance of Gwanghwamun Square, where the Sejong Center is located. This square has been the site of candles and flags, glory and resentment, and remains a space overflowing with diverse voices. Through Black White, Lee concretizes the complex social consciousness that plastic bags can embody.

​

2. Plastic Bags

​

Lee Kyung-Ho divides his exhibition into two spaces. One features archival video works documenting his past sculptural installations and performances, alongside video works originally conceived as standalone pieces. The other displays photographs from his "Plastic Bag" series, complemented by a large-scale installation of actual plastic bags fluttering in artificial wind.

But why plastic bags? While the term bongdari is often classified as a dialect specific to Gyeonggi and Jeolla provinces, it is widely used across South Korea, including Gyeongsang and Gangwon provinces and parts of Chungcheong. Derived from the standard term bongji (plastic bag), bongdari carries cultural and regional connotations. By choosing bongdari instead of the standard term, Lee underscores a familiar, universal term that transcends regionalism and ideology.

Moreover, plastic bags serve as a powerful medium for exploring themes central to Lee’s practice, including play and memory, ideology, environment, and ecology. They are a versatile material that is both profoundly simple and richly symbolic—a perfect subject for his artistic expression.

​

3. The Flight of Plastic Bags – Somewhere Series

​

The inspiration for Lee's creative journey with plastic bags originates from his childhood. He recalls, “As a child, I would kick rocks, sticks, or plastic bags all the way home. Though some fell into streams or drains along the way, I always felt proud when I saw my collection piling up under the house.” This “purposeful play” of kicking discarded items was a blend of play, exercise, and, at times, labor.

This childhood activity transformed into an artistic experiment during Lee’s university years in France. While backpacking across Europe during school breaks, he began experimenting creatively with plastic bags. This evolution from “childhood play and movement” to “youthful artistic exploration” became a defining aspect of his work.

One notable episode from Lee’s youth further highlights this transformation. In 1988, while living in an attic in Paris, Lee experienced recurring nightmares. To ward off these bad dreams, he drew two eyes on a Monoprix plastic bag and hung it on his attic window. This bag, with its elongated handles and glaring eyes, served as an improvised talisman.

By 2006, Lee began fully incorporating plastic bags into his art with the Somewhere series. This series captures plastic bags floating in the wind against backdrops of various landscapes—initially European cities and later sites across Asia, the United States, and beyond. Whether caught mid-flight or submerged in water, these bags became a recurring motif in Lee’s global travels.

The series grew in complexity, evolving to incorporate color symbolism. Black bags dominated his work, appearing in locations such as Gyeongju (2006–2019), Hong Kong (2006), Beijing (2009), Miami (2010), Naoshima (2011), Venice (2018), and Saint Petersburg (2019). Other colors made appearances: yellow at the Great Wall of China, white in Tiananmen Square and Pisa, and green biodegradable bags in Monaco. Recently, Lee has favored black bags as a symbol of "petroleum-based lumps," aligning with his ecological focus.

The Somewhere series further expanded with the integration of drone technology, allowing Lee to film the movement of plastic bags from the air. This technological shift added new dimensions to his work, amplifying the sense of flight and freedom.

​

4. The Journey of Plastic Bags – Traveler Series and Black White

​

The Somewhere series eventually led to the Traveler series, which brings plastic bags into the confines of a white cube gallery. In this series, Lee places multiple plastic bags in a space, where artificial wind (from fans) propels them into motion. Simultaneously, CCTV cameras track the bags, transforming their movements into moon-like projections.

Debuted in 2006 at Gallery Sejul, the Traveler series emphasized the tension between constrained motion and imaginative freedom. In the Sejong Center exhibition, Lee introduces a new work, Black White. In this installation, dozens of black and white plastic bags float and mingle, creating a dynamic interplay within the gallery space.

The title Black White intentionally omits punctuation, symbolizing the dissolution of boundaries between opposing forces. Inspired by semiotician Algirdas Greimas’ theory of binary oppositions, Lee’s work critiques the stark dichotomies of “black versus white.” Through constant interaction, the plastic bags blur the lines, creating a visual metaphor for coexistence and harmony.

​

5. Ecological Activism through Plastic Bags

​

Lee’s plastic bags represent a movement beyond rigid norms and structures. They embody flexibility and adaptability, transcending the binary logic of "black and white." However, this does not mean Lee embraces relativism. Instead, he firmly aligns himself with environmental sustainability and ecological ethics.

Why does Lee, a staunch environmental advocate, incorporate plastic bags—symbols of waste—into his work rather than discard them? He explains, “The way to overcome fear is not to avoid it but to confront it head-on. I want my work to serve that purpose.”

This paradoxical use of plastic bags redefines their meaning. Once seen as mere pollutants, they now serve as powerful symbols of ecological resilience. From the outdoor freedom of the Somewhere series to the ideological critique of Black White, Lee’s works resonate with a growing urgency for environmental action.

His personal experiences—becoming a father, surviving heart surgery, and switching to an electric car—have deepened his ecological commitment. Lee’s art challenges us to rethink the legacy we leave for future generations.

Through plastic bags—symbols of fossil fuels and consumer culture—Lee Kyung-Ho transforms waste into a call to action, leading the charge for an ecological art movement.

​​

​

The Romanticist in a Frock Coat

Kho Chung-Hwan (Art Critic)

Plastic Bags. Plastic bags drift in the wind, traveling across the world, with no set destination. They float through remote wilderness and urban landscapes alike, appearing in both serene and conflict-ridden regions. As they travel, these bags scatter seeds—the seeds of life. In his work, Lee Kyung-Ho personifies the plastic bag, presenting the world as seen through its eyes and depicting the perspective it offers. Here, the bag becomes a guardian of life, a messenger spreading the seeds of vitality.

To some, the wandering plastic bag may symbolize a metaphor for a nomadic, aimless existence. It could also evoke the philosophy of “empty-handed we come, and empty-handed we leave,” transforming the bag into an allegory of life's transient nature.

In another project, plastic bags appear indoors. This time, not just one bag but many, swirling and clustering in a corner, seemingly murmuring unintelligibly as they flutter. Occasionally, a bag soars high, only to be confined again to the corner. When the airborne bag brushes past a projected image of a full moon, it creates patterns on the moon’s surface and casts its shadow. Up to this point, the work, titled Moonlight Sonata, exudes an almost romantic quality.

However, the romantic scenery takes on a grotesque tone when excavators, humidifiers, highway models, and toy cars, alongside an unexpected visitor—a flying Atom figurine—enter the scene. What began as a sonata shifts into a requiem. While these are mere models, close-up footage makes them appear lifelike, with shadows towering on the walls, creating an unsettling atmosphere. Some excavators tirelessly scoop water, while others toss puffed rice into the air. Most, however, repeat futile movements, engaging in meaningless digging. The steam from the humidifier resembles pollutants spewing from industrial chimneys, critiquing reckless development and the relentless pursuit of economic growth.

The toy cars race down the highway at frenetic speeds, only to endlessly circle within a confined track, like hamsters on a wheel. This could be a commentary on the unchecked, breakneck pace of competition in modern society. Above this somber scene, the Atom figure hovers, leaving viewers to wonder whether it is a savior of this chaotic world or a surveillant sent by it.

Through the empty plastic bag's innocent gaze, the artist captures an apocalyptic landscape of the world. Set to the melancholic strains of a rhapsody, it evokes a noir film where a plastic bag drifts through the shadowed corners of back alleys.

Ten-Won Coins. Coins fall from the sky like rain—ten-won coins cascading down as if in a scene from Gustav Klimt’s painting of Zeus transforming into golden rain for Danaë. Occasionally, the coins fall slowly, catching the light and shimmering in a fantastical, almost sacred way. Is it fantastical? Sacred? This shimmering aura evokes the concept of fetishism, where mere objects are imbued with spiritual or emotional value.

People dream of wealth and jackpots, chasing the promise of prosperity. Overlapping these images, the backdrop features scenes from political history, both domestic and international. Onscreen, idealized figures pledge riches, utopias, and earthly paradises. Yet, these promises are ultimately exposed as empty lies, revealing the futility of utopian ideals—utopia, after all, means "no place." Promising what never existed is absurd.

Through this, the artist unveils the fragility of illusions (wake up!) and the emptiness of political rhetoric (stop lying!).

Puffed Rice. Now puffed rice rains down from the sky, launched from a concealed machine behind a building, shooting it out like a cannon—sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly. The rice piles up, and people gather to eat it. The imagery recalls the Biblical miracle of manna falling from heaven, or the story of five loaves and two fish feeding the masses. It addresses issues of sustenance, food distribution, and social justice.

The concept draws inspiration from the artist’s childhood memories of puffed rice. In another project, the artist packages this humble puffed rice using containers designed by Prada’s head designer. The cheapest of items encased in the most luxurious packaging—this irony is deliberate. People focus on Prada, ignoring the puffed rice. Here, Prada signifies nothing but packaging and logos, detached from reality.

The artist critiques a society obsessed with appearances and superficiality, a culture that values image over essence. This prompts viewers to reconsider what is truly important and reflect on what has been lost or forgotten in their lives.

Reflection. Lee proposes moments of contemplation: about kicking a bowl, about a collapsing building, about waiting for a bus, and about environmental issues.

In a performance, Lee kicks a rice bowl. Then, he pauses solemnly to reflect. He repeats the action, interspersing it with moments of quiet introspection. Why does he kick an innocent rice bowl? What does he think about as he stands before it?

This act should be seen as a paradoxical expression: by kicking the bowl, the artist is actually saying it should not be kicked. It recalls the poem by Ando Hyeon, which rebukes those who kick briquettes, questioning if they have ever selflessly warmed others as the briquettes have. Through this work, Lee highlights that the issue of sustenance is not merely about survival but about preserving human dignity—a truth so obvious it is often overlooked.

Recently, a news story featured a building leaning precariously like the Tower of Pisa. Upon hearing this, the artist rushed to document the site. The building, now dismantled using advanced techniques, is gone without a trace. The event feels surreal—as if it never happened. Lee asks viewers to reflect on what society hides, erases, and forgets.

In another work, he documents a rural bus stop where an elderly couple waits for the same bus at the same time each day. Their routine symbolizes the monotony of daily life, yet Lee reminds us of the subtle differences within repetition—what aesthetic theory calls difference within repetition. This underscores the value of living and practicing such routines, lending a quiet reverence akin to the figures in Millet’s The Angelus or The Gleaners.

Through installation art, Lee addresses glacial melting due to pollution and envisions a new era brought about by miracles akin to Moses parting the Red Sea. His environmental themes align with the principles of land art, situating art within the very environment it critiques.

The Romanticist Artist.

While primarily a video artist, Lee Kyung-Ho’s work is characterized by a consistent personal image: his long hair cascading over his neck and the raised collar of a frock coat, giving him the air of an anachronistic monk.

Lee’s art brings attention to the overlooked and the insignificant—plastic bags, ten-won coins, puffed rice, and bowls—using them to explore existential questions about survival, routine, and the environment. These marginalized objects remind us of the forgotten background of every significant issue.

Wherever the struggles of life unfold—whether through the kicked rice bowl (a metaphor for human dignity), the collapsing building (a symbol of societal failure), or environmental crises—Lee is there, bearing witness. His work positions him as both a chronicler of the moment and a witness of our times.

​

From the Report by Hyun In-Jung, Korean Art News – Leekyungho, 2014

​

The artist has consistently explored the paradoxical aspects of contemporary civilization, where the ironies of modernity intersect with personal daily life, through a wide range of works filled with bold experimentation, irony, and playful wit across mediums such as media and installation art. While his works are visually inventive and whimsically offbeat on the surface, they are imbued with deeply ordinary and emotional reflections on life and existence, often delivering unexpected, subtle resonance. This stems from the artist’s unique perspective—innocent, pure, or genuinely authentic—operating beneath the surface to address the complex and hybrid issues of this era, where disparate and heterogeneous elements are intricately intertwined.

The artist’s conceptual process adds meaning to what might otherwise be dismissed as trivial or chaotic aspects of the world. For instance, in Meaningless! Meaningless! Meaningless!, an installation featuring a delicate thread suspending a humble ten-won coin, the precarious and fluctuating existence of money invites a fresh contemplation of its ontology. Meanwhile, the Jackpot series critiques the shallow antics of the political establishment and ties the notion of worldly success to the turbulent landscapes of modern and contemporary history, balancing critical reflection with humor.

Additionally, works such as BABEL BABEL BABEL, Thinking about..., and Manna embrace the contradictions encountered during life’s long journey. These pieces unveil an unseen yet tender emotional core that breathes life into these paradoxes, revealing a sense of intimacy amid the unfamiliar. Through his work, the artist demonstrates the ability to reconcile disparate fragments of a disordered world, offering poignant insights into the hidden dimensions of existence.

 

 

Kyung-Ho Lee’s “Creative Paradox”

                                                      

Kim Sung-ho, Art Critic

 

 

In this exhibition Kyung-Ho Lee reinterprets “creative paradox” through his video and installation works. His work Jackpot!1), as its title indicates, explores this term’s paradoxical import. Lee reveals this work was inspired by the word, “daebak” (Reunification of the Korean Peninsula would bring “daebak”) referring to the “bonanza” or “jackpot” President Park Geun-hye used in her address to the opening session of the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland in 20132) and the “daebak” he used when talking with his son. Taking note of different uses of the same word “daebak”, the artist asks people what the true meaning of “daebak” is through his work positioned at the two extremes of “mocking problem posing” and “critical introspection”3).

This work consists of two parts: video work giving form to the money image and installation work unveiling the true nature of money. The video work starts with close-up images of a large number of falling coins videotaped with a high-speed camera and played in slow motion. The images appear beautiful and magnificent. The images projected onto the wall with the highest ceiling in the venue bring forth determined, solemn beauty. It is music that makes the slow falling of the coins something more sublime. As if dancing, coins slowly fall with the flow of Caetano Velose’s mellifluous, plaintive song4), Billie Holiday music and pathetic jazz melodies5). The money falling amid songs about human meeting and love is another metaphor for human desire. Like breaking up over and over again, we are in the same relationship with money. As we cannot live without those we love, we also cannot live without money. They both are all indispensable. The video images indicate an overlap of “money, desire, and love” and even the idea of falling in love with money.

 In the second half the video, images swiftly develop to the accompaniment of Canan Anderson’s electronic violin melodies.6) A heap of coins perform a circular dance in groups, which is depicted with computer graphics. The performance is very cheerful but displays a spectacle that makes us feel very sorrowful with panoramic video images of horrible events in contemporary world history mixed with the performance. The histories of modern and contemporary empires that rose and fell in glory and shame pass before our eyes with images of kings, queens, and dictators who engraved their likeness on coins, overlapped by images of politicians and artists. There are deplorable historical narratives on the First and Second World War, the Cambodian civil war, the Gwangju Democratization Movement, the Arab Revolution, and terrorism in the 20thth and 21stst century. Also included are scenes of UFC martial arts warriors being cheered by spectators, barbarous humors in a predetermined professional wrestling match, and Charles Chaplin’s comic yet gloomy gestures. Neo-liberalism occasioned by money commercializes even miserable history. Like the lyrics of another song by Billie Holiday7), in any age money is like “a strange and bitter crop”9) from the tree with “blood on the leaves and blood at the root”8). This is like the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge in paradise, tempting us to take the path of decadence.

 

Visible under the flow of gloomy, plaintive video scenes, on the floor of the venue, is a heap of ten-won Korean coins, and Taiwanese coins. It is “a mound of money”. While the coins - equivalent to 700,000 won - glitters, lit by lighting, three hydraulic shovels move, making machine sound. There is also a heap of gold-color toy hydraulic shovels. A hydraulic shovel operated by a sensor catching viewer movement commits itself to its duty. It tries to insert coins, but the coins slip from the shovel. It is a metaphor Lee often adopts in his work.10)

 

An example is one of his previous video installation works11) in which he videotaped a toy hydraulic shovel with a CCTV camera and projected it as an enormous moving shadow on a wall in real-time. In this work a hydraulic shovel reminded viewers of the Korean situation whereas its title Prayer made them realize confronting concepts such as wish/criticism and prayer/resistance as something hybrid. In this work a plaything excavator is a “metaphor” for the ruling class of the time and a “paradox” caricaturing and lampooning critical, resistant messages. That is why the excavator cannot insert a coin: it just makes a thundering noise. In his other work12) displayed at an international art show Lee Won-ill curated the artist has practiced a paradox through a narrative presenting “a contrast between the meaning of time – quick and slow - in the 20th century and the meaning of dream and illusion”13) by contrasting the enlarged projected image of a plaything rollercoaster with the secondhand of a watch. In the catalog essay Lee Won-il interpreted his work Digital Moon, conveying a paradoxical message based on such contrasting narrative, as constant affirmation and negation following “a duet of dream and chaos”.

 

“Kyung-Ho Lee’s new digital work ------- explores the nonlinear, inexplicable, mysterious area of the self and the world, approaching a flexible intermediate process between modification and silence through digital image processes. It is an artistic practice of constant self-renewal and expansion. It is a disquieting duet of dream and chaos, trying to see a world of uncertainty that cannot be completely reduced or absorbed in a monitor and the shaking world from the floating perspective of cyber-self, denatured in a pseudo-environment.”14)

 

“Money”, which comes to the fore in this exhibition, is a paradox per se. We are often frustrated by money enabling us to live a happy or resplendent life between have and have-not, fortune and misfortune. Money explicitly unveils a context in human life: we can be happy with money and also unhappy with it. The history of dominance and sub-ordinance repeats under the hidden side of happiness and flamboyance brought by money. “Daebak” is always nothing but a bare possibility, but at times infiltrates our lives and interrupts our everyday. As such, “daebak” creates a stir, drawing a line between fortune and misfortune in contemporary people’s everyday lives. Nevertheless, contemporary humans live for money, which is an irony itself or paradox.

 

Won-il’ Lee’s “creative paradox” is parallel to Tom Conley’s “creative paradox” referring to contradiction, irony, play, or anti-narrative while Kyung-Ho Lee’s reinterpretation and practice of “creative paradox” is rather playful and satirical. As travelers to Rome toss a coin into the Trevi Fountain to make a wish, Lee has placed a bowl on the floor, inducing viewers to throw coins into it from the second floor. The artist expects that viewers make wishes, tossing coins into the bowl in the exhibition. He seems to have an expectation that their playful engagement more obviously visualizes “paradoxical messages” pertaining to money. He has a plan to donate the coins collected to an organization for the blind15) because he unintentionally had an experience of being blind for one day when he burned his eye while welding in 1999.16) 

 

Crucial to understanding his work is his reinterpretation and practice of “creative paradox” is not always hilarious and delightful despite his playful performance encouraging viewer participation. His work superficially highlights amusement and satire, but brims with “jokes and satire with a hidden, solid meaning”. Sorrowful self-deprecation overlapped with irony and contradiction and critical messages twisting the “import of hackneyed words” are constantly found in the depth of his work.

 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

1) Kyung-Ho Lee, Jackpot!, single channel video, 6m & sensor, coins, excavator toy, pot_dimention variable_2014 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JzH8vV0_sXA

2) The 4th World Economic Forum, Davos, Switzerland, January 22-25, 2014.

3) Kyung-Ho Lee, artist statement, February 1, 2014.

4) Caetano Velose, Ay Amor!

5) Billie Holiday, I’m a fool to want you

6) Canan Anderson, Sultan-I Yegah Sirto

7) Billie holiday, Strange Fruit

8) “blood on the leaves and blood at the root”

9) “a strange and bitter crop”

10) Kyung-Ho Lee has displayed a work in which a tremendous number of hydraulic shovels wriggle, making a thundering noise under Astro Boy, flying endlessly in a circle, and also Mickey Mouse (Lee calls him Michey Mouse) wearing Superman’s cape before a unplugged microphone. The plaything hydraulic shovels are a metaphor used to lampoon and criticize the then President Lee Myung-bak’s economic growth policy led by civil engineering works. The plaything excavators are symbolic of the leaders of our time or the ruling powers who focus merely on development-led growth and economic logic. – Kyung-Ho Lee, Michey Mouse 2008-2013, 2011, i Robot, Chosun Ilbo Art Museum, January 7-25, 2011.

11) Kyung-Ho Lee, Prayer, 2007.

12) Kyung-ho Lee, No-Signal (Help), 2007. Thermocline of Art: New Asian Waves, Karlsruhe ZKM, June 15-October 21, 2007. / Won-Il Lee, Kyung-Ho Lee in Thermocline of Art: New Asian Waves, 2007, p.64.

13) Dong-Kun Kim, Interview with Won-Il Lee, Korea, Korean by Dong-Kun Kim, World Curator Won-Il Lee, July 7, 2008, KBS 2TV 

14) Won-Il Lee, A Duet of Dream and Chaos, Kyung-Ho Lee solo exhibition catalog essay, Gallery Sejul, March 21-April 10, 2002.

15) In 2004 during the 5th Gwangju Biennale, Lee sold puffed rice for one US dollar by putting it in an envelope he designed in collaboration with Italian designer Miuccia Prada, and donated all the proceeds to a local organization for blind people.

 

 

Leekyungho 2014

 

Excerpts from curator Won-Il Lee’s Creative Paradox Exhibition catalog essay

​

​

​

 

<Due of Dream and Chaos, Incessant Affirmation and Negation>

​

 

Rhee Won-il (2002 2006 Media-City Seoul , Artistic Director) 

 

The world of which Lee Kyoung Ho dreams is the indeterminate world. Same as It has found a certain rule in confusion, but it cannot yet predict the future of the unstable phenomena. Through incessant self-negation, he attempts to face the complex world of chaos which can be neither egated nor affirmed, while meditating seriously on such phenomena hidden in the shadow of reason as human body, nature, contradiction, confrontation and conflict of the society. Just beyond describing scientific theories and knowledge with artistic language, he shows us a 'paradox' suggesting a limit of science, philosophy, religion and history by using the most advanced medium called 'media'. For examples, in the work titled 'Chaos', an image shouting  'Yes' with the head bowed or an image slapping the cheek and shouting 'No' is edited into the digital media to be elongated and projected onto other screen. Thus, the cyclic flow of time and space is destroyed, because the non-linear dynamic system reveals complexity and noises regularly and repeatedly. Moreever, unpredictable 'stopped' time is set at a pre-determined rapid or slow speed to negate Newtonian absolute time and space. The result is a Chaos time and space. When a regular noise which cannot be endured is added to it, we will witness a symptom of anomie which has resulted from sense of loss and lack of value. In other words, the rapid flow of time is checked by reversal of the sensual order, and the ultimate goal is to reveal a synesthetic world full of disorder. In such a world where the pure horizon of visual and auditory senses has been lost simultaneously, the human voice modulated to resemble beast's roar will become an auditory sense overshadowing the visual sense. Thus, in the work 'Chaos', Lee Kyoung Ho's private body is fabricated by computer. The resultant effect is that mind negates body to control it and thereby, that a shabby essence of ego is exposed. Just as (M.Heim) sets a 'virtual ego' and has it absorb the opaque body, and grinds the body mass to create an information and ultimately, degenerate the erotic life into a puppet play, so Lee Kyoung Ho's digitalized 'ego' reveals a self-torture and self-abhorrence engulfing even the secret self-affection only to exhaust and consume the 'doom' of ego. In this sense, his work signified neither 'Yes' nor 'No'. It looks insignificant, and it resembles insane person's or lonely person;s mumbling or 'monologue'. However, the blind and aimless message of confusion reflects author's self- existence. It is a wretched struggle to affirm the ego. Since 'mumbling' does not assume any receiver, it must be a lonely boomerang returning towards his ego.

'Digital Moon' which describes a shape reflected on the surface of water amplifies the feedback effect of interactive to purse an exchange between digital and analogue. It shows a variation formed on an attractive blue screen. When the audience pass by it hiding the blue light, they will see a screen explosion resembling the Big Bang of the universe, being guided instantly into the black hole of narcissism or the world of Chaos. There, the audience will reciprocate between emotion and reason, and between homeostasis and extreme chaos. They will also experience a mental panic similar to the stopped screen in the work Chaos. It is like the ego lost in the blue light. Then, the audience will face a dizzy chaos where in they struggle to be correctly centered.

Lee Kyoung Ho's  new digital works designed to maximize the complex sensual manipulations through integrated modulation of images and sounds in the temporal and spatial chaos connote four key words of Wittgenstein's philosophy: action, clarification, transformation and silence. His works reciprocate among these four stages repeatedly. The smooth relay process between transformation and silence is treated with the digital processing to explore the mysterious arena. It is an incessant self-rehabilitation and expansion. It is a kind of artistic practice. The indeterminate world can be neither reduced nor absorbed completely. The cyber-self is transformed in a pseudo-environment to drift. His world is swaying. It is an unstable duo of dream and chaos.

 

​

The Second Act Begins: Lee Kyung-Ho Solo Exhibition Traveler

Lee Kyung-Ho Solo Exhibition
April 7–May 28, 2006, Gallery Sejul
AliceOn Review, June 2006

​

When reflecting on recent exhibitions I’ve planned or attended, I’ve found myself pondering the significance of solo exhibitions. While the connections between the exhibited works and art history or relevant theories are undoubtedly meaningful, I believe it is crucial to start from the most objective fact: the artist is holding a solo exhibition. A solo exhibition is a condensed expression of the artist’s refined sensibilities, honed over the same span of time during which the exhibited works were created.

Titled "Traveler," Lee Kyung-Ho’s second solo exhibition arrives four years after his last, presenting a comprehensive view of how he has been observing and interpreting the world during that time. It is not merely a performance captured through video or the resulting artifacts; it is a narrative drama imbued with the artist’s habits, attitudes, and perceptions.

​

Act Two: Four Tales of the World

The second act of Lee Kyung-Ho’s narrative about life unfolds through four tales of the world: Forgotten Times, In Memory of Nam June Paik, Landscape, and Traveler. These works transcend static boundaries of space, blending sound, noise, light, and moving images into a unified, staged environment. Through them, Lee’s perspectives on the world manifest in diverse forms, encouraging the audience to join him in viewing the world through his eyes.

​

Forgotten Times

This piece features a street food cart that had been abandoned on the roadside for two years. The artist, known among his acquaintances for enjoying journeys reminiscent of drifting clouds, incorporates objects discovered, serendipitously acquired, or purchased during his travels into his work. These objects serve as extensions of his sensory antennae, embodying his vision of the world.

In the dimly lit gallery, the cart is wrapped in dried twigs that evoke tangled hair or, at times, the Crown of Thorns. Inside the cart, small monitors are embedded, forming a massive installation. These monitors display a mix of narratives—both stories tied to the cart’s past and images conjured by its outward appearance. Videos depict a street musician playing the saxophone, shadows of drunken patrons exchanging drinks under a red plastic tarp, and other nostalgic glimpses of the cart’s bygone days. Accompanying these visuals are the sounds of Christian broadcasts, adding an unsettling layer, as if alluding to the suffering of Christ.

Projected between the intertwined branches are images of individuals marginalized by society, much like the abandoned cart itself. As viewers join the artist in observing these individuals through the twigs, they occasionally meet their gaze, only to instinctively look away. The melancholic atmosphere is enhanced by music, including folk singer Jeon In-Kwon’s Don’t Worry, Dear and the hymn Silent Night, Holy Night. This chapter poignantly captures the themes of memory, loss, and marginalization.

​

In Memory of Nam June Paik

The second tale is a tribute to the late Nam June Paik, who passed away before the opening of this exhibition. In Memory of Nam June Paik reflects on Lee’s encounter with the pioneering media artist during a trip to Paris. The piece features a violin purchased at the Dongdaemun Flea Market, producing eerie sounds as it is dragged along by a treadmill. This work transcends homage to a senior artist, serving as a metaphor for the struggles Lee anticipates in his own artistic journey—battles with inner demons and external realities as he forges ahead.

​

Landscape

The third chapter of Lee’s narrative examines human beings grappling with societal power structures, presenting their daily existence as a metaphorical battlefield. Entering the gallery, viewers are overwhelmed by mechanical noises and rapidly shifting video imagery. Scattered throughout the space are toy bulldozers, excavators, and race car models purchased from local street vendors. Sensors embedded in the toys activate them when visitors approach, causing them to spring into action.

Rows of bulldozers and excavators endlessly dig and carry soil, while model race cars speed frantically around tracks. Amid this chaos, some excavators scoop rice from bowls, injecting a fleeting sense of humor. Yet this momentary amusement underscores the grim reality of life’s relentless struggle for survival.

The frantic activity on the floor is captured in real time by cameras and projected onto the walls, creating an atmosphere reminiscent of constant surveillance. Steam rising from humidifiers installed to mimic construction site heat adds a dynamic visual layer. To counterbalance the chaos, empty bowls are placed in a corner, inviting visitors to kick them as a symbolic act of stress relief. Meanwhile, a floating Atom figurine, smiling serenely, introduces an element of the artist’s characteristic humor.

​

Traveler

The exhibition concludes with Traveler, offering a glimpse of the artist’s emotional sensitivity over the past four years. This work sculpts the moon’s shape in the night sky, using real-time video projections to interact with the lighting. The mechanism, responsive to varying light intensities, renders the moon as a living organism, recalling the movement of cells fighting invasive bacteria.

Black plastic bags, scattered on the ground, are lifted by artificial wind into the air, occasionally intersecting with the projected moon. Their shadows distort the moon’s image, resembling patterns formed by the lunar phases. These rhythmic, cyclical distortions feel like a gentle requiem for the artist’s dynamic journey over the years.

​

Reflecting on Medium and Message

The 1990s marked a period of deconstruction in Korean contemporary art, with performance art emerging as a prominent genre. As cameras and projectors became integral to performances, more dynamic and dramatic compositions became possible. However, in many cases, the intrinsic qualities of these media risked distorting or overshadowing the content.

Lee Kyung-Ho’s Traveler transcends this limitation. His meticulous use of technology aligns with his artistic identity, allowing the chosen mediums, objects, and narratives to converge seamlessly. Through his careful selection and arrangement of materials, Lee weaves a cohesive tapestry that not only showcases his observations but also immerses viewers in his worldview.

Lee’s Traveler reminds us of the evolving potential of performance and media art—not merely as aesthetic exercises, but as profound meditations on life and existence.

AliceOn, June 2006
Review of Lee Kyung-Ho’s Traveler Exhibition

 

 Old memories by Kyung Ho Lee

 

Yoo Jinsang (2010 Media-City Seoul , Artistic Director)

 

One of the best things about video devices is that you can actually walk into the space where performance is taking place.  Merce Cunningham and Twyla Tharp were among the dancers who from the beginning demonstrated how videos can be the eye that moves around in the space occupied by the dancer. The concept of  moving eye along with the ever-so-light camera devices and separation of its system have accelerated the growth of performance, i.e. one of the factors in performing arts, not to mention stage that props up the performance has evolved to become an omnipresent eye device rather than just a target for the eye.  An eye can work anywhere. What an eye tells us goes beyond the stare projected on an object to indicate the meaning of where the object physically belongs.  The use of video device creates an art with a question of how the place for the observer and the place for the observed, a new implication on space, is established.

The use of video device on the other hand has created the staging of presence, its growth, and an omnipresence of dramatic space which is a new category of dramatic factors that equals to the omnipresent eye.   The staging of presence is its ability for a video camera to play what it has recorded real time basis, and this is in direct contact with its function as a surveillance device. An image reflected in direct connection with camera has as little time difference and is considered as the present. This state called  real-time where recording and playing are considered no separate process is a very important uniqueness that  video devices possess.   Kyung Ho Lee's <Digital Moon> adapted a feedback process, the state where time difference occurs when real-time video recording and playing proceed. It mainly recorded what was reflected on monitor that was hooked onto camera and is now altered by Kyung Ho Lee to record the light that the video projector reflects on white wall. This calls for a change that is more than the simple difference in lights each reflected by TV monitor and video projector. It is because the light shed by the video projector of the camera forms a patch of light that can be controlled by the amount of light around it and its movement, and appears not in the rectangle of the monitor but in the continuum of the real space. This round circle of light made by Kyung Ho Lee is no different from an object in a sense that his light is a controlled concreteness, and therefore takes sculptural formality.

 

 <Digital Moon> makes space two existing layers through sculptural bilateralness and poetic dramatization. One visualize the present into a sight full of slices of circle and the other draws the present onto the stage of dramatic alienation by giving it a concreteness by calling it 'moon'.  The present is perceived as the continuum of phases that wander around the surface of space. This then becomes an object that the audience gets in direct contact with, touches, and from time to time fragmentizes. The moving eye whose existence the video device allows is changed into the moveability of the device itself in feedback process. This juxtaposes the place where the device is in line with the image it creates, and produces inner wave or inner swing. The circle in the form of solidified inner wave or swing reacts to the ubiquitous outer interruption in a very sensitive and soft, and sometimes in a very vigorous way.    

 

The fluctuation effect of video projector that Kyung Ho Lee uses creates a dramatic stage that is different form that of feedback process. In 2004 Kwangjoo Biennale, his <Moonlight Sonata> displayed hundreds of 'popped rice' that reminded us of the prototype of moon. <Moonlight Sonata> projected a real-time image of a machine with an automatic supply of rice popping rice and offered the popped rice to the audience to eat creating layers of meaning. This, which should be read in continuation of <Digital Moon> mentioned earlier, creates an atmosphere full of fantasies of moon being mass produced by a machine, of dramatic pops and bangs as rice is popped, and of the religious implication of eating the holy creation, Catholic Holy Communion or eroticism since the audience is physically involved in eating, and therefore we say this work isnot short in any of immersing the audience. In this work again, Lee got the closest shot possible of one part of machine where rice is pressed with his camera, and maximized the dramatic effect by projecting the already enlarged image even larger. Here again is the duality which puts the present of video device and old mechanical device in constant dual. The repeated pops and bangs that reminds us of the religious sound of a gongforces the perception of present, and what's popped out the machine which accumulates in a circular form is also the residue of present. His performance is a firm present tense where its sculptural expression without ceasing imprints present in the form of an object which is then exhausted by the audience who snacks on it.

  

 

Kyung Ho Lee's work process where he started with performances using a video device and then proceeded to a sculptural installation using machines is not exceptional. In a way it was an inevitable proceeding. Since it is only natural to install a video device in a space full of drama where bodies interfere. It is in fact not easy to hold an optimistic view as to where this kind of connection is going to head. Not only because Namjun Pak and his followers exhausted almost all the possibilities, but also because the dichotomy of video and the body possesses a prototype. Almost all the videos we record in every day life are aimed at the body. Performance and its recording process in fact head in the direction of conceptual extinction. This proceeding in a productive direction will not mean self-directional and conceptual performance of video device any more. That is an object created by the mechanical repetition of real time process of the camera and video projector collaboration,  and its present interaction produce the process in the opposite direction.

 

Numerous toy forklifts and bulldozers in mass create <Landscape>, and this again is in continuation with <Moonlight Sonata> since it indulges in kinetic objects, surveillance cameras and video projectors and lights. It is also in continuation that performance holds present proceedings against mechanical process. This work however emphasizes the omnipresence by increasing the number of cameras and projectors which then results in the increase of dramatic space. Shadow play that reminds us of Jean Tinguely and real time video projection took place at the same time, and this is amplified by the motor sounds, juxtaposing images from different distances, again in continuation of the increasing effect used in the works previously mentioned. This work displayed along with <Digital Moon>, shows landscape of 'land' in a nice contrast with the landscape of metaphysical 'moon'.

Lee's installation as a whole is titled as <Traveler>, and it is safe to assume that this title goes back to the beginning when Lee who started rather late in the performing arts field strived to find his identity in his relationship with his works. This installation is full of ceaseless landscapes a traveler passes by, as well as complexities and earthy landscapes that the present brings along. Lee designates the place of the camera very low which amplifies the object while recording which is then projected on the wall through a video projector that is also placed low. Here the video projector works as a distant light, a light device that at the same time projects the image and creates the shadow of the object. Video projector as a device that simultaneously creates the image and its shadow is in nice parallel with the feedback image created by the self-directional mechanism of video device. Here the two imagespresent two sides of the same present portrayed with chronological difference. The chaotic commotion on the wall created by the shadows and images of moving forklifts can easily be overlooked by the audience. But soon the audience is reminded by the 'moon' projected on the opposite side where the starting point was. The animation icon 'Atom'that flies above the landscape, who adds a little bit of humor, makes you think of the scale of a minimal difference that this icon named 'Atom' brings to the landscape.  

 

Lee's background as a performance artist easily makes us overlook a few things about his work. His expressional way of work or utilizing simple objects and noise often make us want to understand his work in the most vigorous and emotional way. Nevertheless the works mentioned earlier reveal the presence, differential transposition, or pleasant parallels, chronological arrangements of awakening moments in their presentations. It is worth attention especially where he rearranges the video device in their correlation of concepts. Lastly, we can quickly mention how Namjoon Pak is portrayed in his episodes that he has no intention to hide from the readers. His confession that he admired Namjoon Pak not in the realm of video images but in performance arts gives us a clue to better understanding of him. Before he acquainted himself with Namjoon Pak, his first work was to crash a cherished guitar after filling it with paints, which was more on the Fluxus movement. His emphasis on present moment and the dramatic space performance requires are in the center of his work. His <In memory of Namjoon Pak> that he created in memory of the artist re-interprets his own memory of Namjoon Pak with a violin being dragged on a treadmill that would not stop, definitely deserves appreciation.

 

 

  

"Moonlight Sonata 2004"

Moonlight Sonata, Procession, Holy Communion Mass production, Reproduction, Repeat

I have imprinted romantic, I have imprinted illusory month Hunger, Rice, Asia Newspaper media, Rice popper

Machine, Explosion, War, Human endless repeat War that eat well and live well

I live to push in the world, Life is not stoppage Time is passing, Repeated life

When different nature and sensitivity does not control, human becomes hapless. Sometimes, I want to put out power of life.

If is do to do reset again, ......  I return I return it is not stoppage......

 

 

 

Lee Kyung-ho’s Projection to Lead to Awakening in Confusion and Chaos

 

Wonil Rhee, General Director of ZKM Contemporary Asian Art Festival
 

Artist Lee Kyung-ho has recently presented a series of installations that transform an exhibit venue into a metaphysical, metafictional space by enlarging its time and space through the projection of objects. A group of artworks titled No-Signal are an extension of a series of the pieces exhibited at the Gwangju Biennale, the Taipei Museum of Contemporary Art exhibition, and the Shanghai Biennale. They will be also previously presented in Korea prior to the ZKM Contemporary Asian Art Festival to be held in Germany in June this year.

The work No-Signal is a condensed representation of Lee’s historical consciousness and life as a Korean artist within Asia, where is the place the artist was born and educated. In other words, Lee’s installation space makes the viewer gaze at the blind alley of ‘absence,’ ‘exhaustion,’ and ‘emptiness’ implying serious skepticism about autotelism. The time flowing in his enlarged images projected onto a wall is probably that of a comprehensive play stretched over the range from Salvador Dali’s melting time to the time of his faint hope.
 

Feelings of emptiness and fatigue caused by the 20th civilizations are reflected in his rattling plaything-like power equipment and the amusement park rides circulating in a thundering noise. As Mikhail Bakhtin mentioned, Lee’s work probably represents the ‘time on the threshold’ and anguish, repentance, and inauspiciousness of the 21st century, the period when one world comes to an end and that is too languid to expect the birth of a new world, as Mathew Arnold pointed out. So, Lee Kyung-ho utters like a monologue his impulse to ‘signal off’ the power of his life.
If the projector is a metaphor for a life-support system, No-Signal means no change of the pupils, no response of monitors, and the pause of life, namely time. Lee’s conceptual narrative structure represents a sense of tragic loss through its heavy-hearted mise-en-scene and pathetic sound effect. There is an indication, however, that Lee’s rendition would not fall into any nihilism, as did poet Baudelaire.
Lee’s canvas shows the overlap of nostalgia depicted in the film “Giant,’ Mark’s utopian historicism, and Freudian ascetic totalitarianism. The artist at this point shatters the belief of inherent rationality. At this point, the contrast between a real world (playthings) and a created one (false images as the simulacra and imaginary time and space) becomes metafictionalized through en endless self-reflection of time.
 

Accordingly, Lee’s multiple image working system presents the state of extremely confused, chaotic, and even ‘hypnotic’ mise-en-scene in which nostalgia, supernatural energy, grandiose of civilization, and the sublime Hegelian thinkers defines are blended together. As a result, his system demonstrates the cycle of real-time skepticism and reconsideration.

 

 

 

Exhibition at CITY ART MUSEUM LJUBLJANA, Ljubljana, Slovenia

             

Yongwoo Lee, general director of Gwangju Biennale Foundation

 

In the West, philosophical analyses of Asian culture often stop at labels such as Buddhist, Confucian, Zen, naturalist, and other generalities. These labels are too pat and opportunistic, however, to have any hope of applying to the East, for they put politics and religion in the same basket and ignore the many historical events in which the gap between the two was impassable.

 

This abusive type of simplification generates polarizing contradictions that are no different from those arising when one labels the West as Christian or steeped in Greek classicism or adhering to Darwinist evolutionary principles. Similar labels that seek to explain differences between East and West have appeared in the visual arts. Confrontational concepts and historical dualities that try to elucidate East and West polarities are also ineffective.

 

Two cases in point are the Korean artists Lee Kyungho, in whose work it would be impossible to find the so-called Asian sublime or spirit of contemplation. Instead, they look at the pleasure and pain born of capitalism and the information age, but with a sadder, more violent edge than what Western sensibility is used to seeing. Their aesthetic language, which underlines our ignorance, misbehavior, and materialism, suggests that we live a more spiritual life, much like proposing that we do ornithological research instead of merely gaping at the beautiful flight of birds in the sky.

 

Lee Kyungho has a wonderful knack for transforming hopeless science and technology into art. He seems to believe that for technology to become art, science and poetry must absolutely intervene. He uses new media to create poetic images that the spectator most often completes, and stages the sad refrain of constant ear-shattering noise heard in so many places in modern society.

 

In his digital video images of beautiful moonlight the artist suggests that today’s rich technology and scientific applications function like yesterday’s paintbrush.

Lee created monumental works for the 2004 Gwangju Biennale and the 2006 Shanghai Biennale. One was a very old cookie maker that made one cookie every 30 seconds, which the artist offered to a spectator – either to eat on the spot or to take away in a plastic cookie bag designed by Miuccia Prada – the very same of Prada fame. The other work consisted of 50 mini excavators that dug up the wooden floor for the duration of the biennale. The noise in the exhibition space, day after day, was terrible, like a desperate cry for society to wake up from a technological nightmare.

 

The metaphorical and satirical works of Lee Kyungho exploit a visual language that is ostentatious and passionate, in a style synched with the zeitgeist of contemporary art. His work is a master class on how art can speak plainly about community and engage the spectator in a satisfying dialogue.

 

 

"Lee, en général."

 

Il y aura? il y a eu l'argent.

Il y aura? il y a eu des machines, des

téléviseurs, des aspirateurs, des flammes,des

sons, des bruits, des cloches et demains des

buldozers, des hélicoptéres, des trains.

Il y aura un jour ou l'autre une attaque terrestre,

scénarisée.

 

Il y aura pas, il n'y a pas eu ni fleurs, ni fruits, ni

feuilles, aucunes branches.

Il y aura un avoir et il y aura un manque.

 

Il y aura surtout cet espace sans nature, il y aura ce

manque, cette terre soigneusement brulée pour plus

de scène, pour plus d'élan.

Il y aura enfin un temps tracé comme un espace et

l'émergence d'un corps.

 

Naissance de l'archer en diane et vénus, baignoire et

carton, tandis que les machines mangent le sens,

mangent le monde.

 

Performance d'être et de ne pas naître qu'au monde.

La flêche vers la pluie magnétique.

Naître et tuer le mal

 

Kyoung-Ho Lee, petit soldat

Prenez bien soin de vous.

 

                                 1990 by  Michel Enrici 

 

 

 

 

Kyungho Lee  TEXT

 

 

The Universe in a Bathtub

I discover the universe in a drain-hole in the bathroom.

A myriad of insects proceeding toward white light reflected in the bathroom in search of something –

The unidentified, flamboyant insects seeking something are in contrast with feeble humans

Washing my body, I discover life in the water that is like amniotic fluid.

Where do we live?

Prayer in the tranquil world......

 

 

 

I save impressive moments I meet by chance in a journey or in everyday life.

I collect documentaries as imaginations, photographs, or things.

 

Things I overlooked, showed, placed here or there and abandoned touch something in my subconscious.

I envisage space, and form enters in my eyes. What comes next is practice.

 

The theme is life. Numerous stories derive from life and death, beginning and end. As I will remain incomplete even in the moment of my death, I do not know what the correct answer is. Answers change at every moment due to my action.

 

If I have lived for momentary objectives and immediate results, what matters now is for what and whom I have to live this dew-like life.

 

The indicator of life, spiritual frequency, means for communication among people, setting the range of feeling, a challenge to capture light   As moths fly into light, we humans proceed to achromatic light.

 

August 25, 2006

I look for solutions through children.

Our futures that were my past......

Waiting, passing, realizing, and reviving......

Peter Handke’s Song of Childhood hovers......

 

Kyungho Lee 李京浩 <Thinking about Kicking A Bowl2>, 2010, single channel, 02`16”

 

About the coincidence and fate of time

Where is this repeated life headed...

Before anything, a brief scenario is written.

A bowl is taken from a chunk of thought...

the bowl on life is kicked...

the chunk of though is knocked over...

 

 

Every moment, the question of what to live for and how to live is asked.

As an artist, a breadwinner, a citizen, a man with religion, a consumer

There is the place to draw near followed by "passing by"

 

The game is over as soon as the bowl is knocked.

 

"My thought have changed with the birth of my son. My son is the future and I have been traveling from the past and changing for the future."

 

One day the end will come, but my hope is that my son and his sons will live life for humanity heading the same direction...

That love will always come with conscience...

 

The merging of the spiritual and physical.