Having grown up in the aftermath of the Korean War, I’ve lived with the heartache of seeing my homeland torn in half. My father fled to South Korea during the war and I grew up seeing his tears and sorrow. Due to the war 10 million families were forcibly separated between the South and North Korea. The war is but a memory now, but the trauma of separation still persists within the hearts of many Korean people.
Right now North Korea is the nation of worst human rights violations. Every day countless souls are being snuffed out through famine, executions, political incarcerations, and failed escape attempts across the border to China. Currently there are about 200,000 refugees hiding in remote corners of China, living out their days in perpetual fear of being deported back to North Korea. And in North Korea, a country of 24 million people, around 120,000 are currently imprisoned in concentration camps; as many as 400,000 souls have perished there thus far. North Korea is also the nation of worst Christian persecution, with up to 200,000 Christians martyred under Kim’s regime and counting.
For a long time I sought for some means to respond to the turmoil and tragedies of my nation, a way for me to ease the grief in my heart. And my art has allowed me to channel my anger and sorrow into the arduous yet cathartic process of healing. My art is done in a ritualistic manner meant to speak healing to the wounded spirits, praying for eradication of the roots of their sorrow. I know there is no way I could possibly understand their hardship. But even so, with their cries of anguish ringing in my heart, I just burn and burn, because I can imagine no other method that could do justice to the depth of their suffering.
And through my arrangements of scorched burlaps I express my sympathy, especially for those who either died during attempted escapes across the border or were captured and met their unjust end in the concentration camps. I roll up the fabric and gather them up to burn as if I have collected the tragic tales of the victims, the coarse material symbolizing their tumultuous life and death. I quietly offer to the people of North Korea these half-burnt ashes, knowing that one day the blood they’ve shed will become sparks that will make bloom the flowers of freedom.
My art deals with political issues, but I have simplified my forms and colors as much as possible in an effort to show my emotions in both immense and minimal manner. Of course, there is also the strong desire to inform North Korea of the repression of human rights through my works. It is my hope that the history of past 70 years is known, remembered, and declared. Through this process, I hope to demarcate each loss, woven together by the collective experiences of the people of North Korea.
gongsankim@gmail.com
Right now North Korea is the nation of worst human rights violations. Every day countless souls are being snuffed out through famine, executions, political incarcerations, and failed escape attempts across the border to China. Currently there are about 200,000 refugees hiding in remote corners of China, living out their days in perpetual fear of being deported back to North Korea. And in North Korea, a country of 24 million people, around 120,000 are currently imprisoned in concentration camps; as many as 400,000 souls have perished there thus far. North Korea is also the nation of worst Christian persecution, with up to 200,000 Christians martyred under Kim’s regime and counting.
For a long time I sought for some means to respond to the turmoil and tragedies of my nation, a way for me to ease the grief in my heart. And my art has allowed me to channel my anger and sorrow into the arduous yet cathartic process of healing. My art is done in a ritualistic manner meant to speak healing to the wounded spirits, praying for eradication of the roots of their sorrow. I know there is no way I could possibly understand their hardship. But even so, with their cries of anguish ringing in my heart, I just burn and burn, because I can imagine no other method that could do justice to the depth of their suffering.
And through my arrangements of scorched burlaps I express my sympathy, especially for those who either died during attempted escapes across the border or were captured and met their unjust end in the concentration camps. I roll up the fabric and gather them up to burn as if I have collected the tragic tales of the victims, the coarse material symbolizing their tumultuous life and death. I quietly offer to the people of North Korea these half-burnt ashes, knowing that one day the blood they’ve shed will become sparks that will make bloom the flowers of freedom.
My art deals with political issues, but I have simplified my forms and colors as much as possible in an effort to show my emotions in both immense and minimal manner. Of course, there is also the strong desire to inform North Korea of the repression of human rights through my works. It is my hope that the history of past 70 years is known, remembered, and declared. Through this process, I hope to demarcate each loss, woven together by the collective experiences of the people of North Korea.
gongsankim@gmail.com