MMCA Seoul: Kim Sooja “Archive of Mind” + “Young Architects Program 2016” + Julius Popp “bit.fall pulse”

Seoul, July 27, 2016 – February 5, 2017 (Kim Sooja), July 6 – October 3, 2016 (YAP2016), http://www.mmca.go.kr

Kim Sooja’s (김수자) solo show was the only larger art show taking place in MMCA Seoul during my visit. In addition to that, Julius Popp’s bit.fall pulse was still around, and it seemed to be nearing its expiration date: the water jets in one of the four stacked containers did not work anymore and about one quarter of the LED lights were burnt out or flickering randomly (compare the photograph to the prior one shortly after the opening).

There has also been the yearly recurring Young Architects Program (YAP) whose winner gets to build a temporary structure in the museum’s courtyard. My prior rhetoric question regarding the shipping and sea-themed follow up to Popp’s exhibition (or the prior Leandro Erlich installation) has been answered earlier than I thought in the form of a large recycled ship hull turned upside down and repurposed as an architectural element (the winning proposal of the YAP – Temp’L by Shin Hyung-chul a.k.a. shinslab Architecture). Once again I can only ask what this series of coincidences of ship and shipping themed exhibits at MMCA means. The latest ship skeleton placed in front of the government-run MMCA carried a further sinister connotation that made it appear almost as a Trojan horse, as it reminded of the 2014 Sewol Ferry disaster killing almost 300 passengers, most of them students from one school. The unfortunate parents are still protesting just a few blocks away, demanding justice that no matter how cannot undo the disaster anyway. This connection made me think that in addition to an unimaginative sponsor-decision maker, the series of ship and sea exhibits may actually be a product of a collective scarred unconsciousness.

Kim Sooja’s exhibition was large scale but simple: a huge table where visitors could make clay balls accompanied by weird creaking sounds; a small room displaying a few smaller works (print documenting a performance, embroidery, the artist’s yoga mat); a large video projection about thread making and weaving in native American culture (beautiful images, very National Geographic-like); a large egg-like sculpture covered with ribbons in Korea’s national colors in the inner courtyard of the museum and a translucent light altering wallpaper covering the four glass walls delineating the courtyard.

The main clay ball making installation deserves a closer description: First, one had to queue at the entrance. Once in a while the staff members invited another batch of people in, giving how-to instructions: You are free to choose between brown and white clay. You can take as much clay as you like. You are not allowed to move the chairs and you are not allowed to make any other shape than a ball. Only balls are allowed to be made from the clay. While you are making the ball, you will be under surveillance of a video camera. The project seemed like a perfect illustration of capitalism (and even more some specifics of its Korean variant), especially the notion of “freedom of choice” (between brown and white clay) and “sharing economy” (let’s all work together for the joy of it and create a better society). The aim was to produce a predictable and uniform “variety” demonstrating the overall “harmony”. I wonder if Kim Sooja really wanted to express a critical voice here, but judging by the tame beauty of the other works I doubt it. It’s much more probable that it has been proposed on the premise of a large-scale collaborative work where the visitors are about to join their efforts in order to produce a metaphor of the harmonious society where balls of all sizes and colors joyfully coexist. Paradoxically, by its conformity to the stereotypes of collaborative art, the project appeared more critical than it was to those who understood the irony.