By Park Han-sol
From a multi-layered cinematic portrayal of Jeju Island’s rich history and natural beauty to a VR journey into an overlooked chapter of early 20th-century Japanese-occupied Taiwan, a diverse range of works is featured in the “Korea Artist Prize 2024” exhibition at the National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art (MMCA) in central Seoul.
Since 2012, the annual prize, co-organized by the MMCA and the SBS Foundation, has championed promising and mid-career creatives by drawing up a shortlist of four individuals or teams who bring fresh visions to contemporary Korean art. A cash prize of 50 million won ($36,000) is awarded to each of the chosen artists to develop new works for the exhibition.
This year’s finalists are Kwon Ha-youn, Yang Jung-uk, Yoon Ji-young and Jane Jin Kaisen.
Kwon is deeply committed to reenacting undocumented, subjective memories through immersive virtual reality, allowing these fading experiences to be felt and embodied by a broader audience.
Her works often explore narratives excluded from official histories or set in inaccessible regions, such as a former Korean recon scout’s memories from the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) and the testimony of a Nigerian asylum seeker in France, whose lack of documentation beyond a self-drawn map of his harrowing escape resulted in his rejection.
In her latest project, “The Guardians of Jade Mountain,” Kwon transports viewers to early 20th-century Taiwan under Japanese occupation. Rather than focusing on the state-level narrative of colonialism, she turns to the unexpected friendship between Japanese anthropologist Ushinosuke Mori and Aliman, a chieftain of the Indigenous Bunun people, who bonded by their mutual reverence for Jade Mountain’s wondrous nature.
For Kaisen, a Jeju-born visual artist adopted to Denmark at just three months old, the island off Korea’s southern coast represents far more than a place of personal significance. To her, it is where volcanic beauty is intertwined with memories of civilian massacres, ideological struggles and ancient shamanistic rites.
At the MMCA, she presents “Ieodo (Island Beyond the Sea),” a series of seven interrelated films that weave a multi-voiced portrait of Jeju.
“‘Ieodo’ is a mythical term (in Jeju) that doesn’t have a singular meaning,” Kaisen explained. “It could mean a liminal space or an island beyond the sea. It’s also associated with the afterlife, where people who were shipwrecked or abandoned would go. There’s also a sense of hope tied to it — a vision of society to come.”
At the center of her presentation stand “Portal” and “Core,” which zoom in on the island’s ecosystem of basalt formations, marine life and subterranean lava tubes.
Encircling these are five other works: “Burial of This Order,” “Offering,” “Halmang,” “Guardians” and “Wreckage.” Each trains its lens on a distinct group connected to Jeju across generations — “haenyeo” (female divers), environmentalists, anti-military activists, shamans and the U.S. Army post-World War II.
Yang’s intricate moving assemblages — crafted from wood, motors, lamps, thread, steel and everyday waste — serve as stand-ins for human protagonists inspired by his life but reinvented with his touch of imagination.
These motorized structures, endlessly performing repetitive actions, become his unlikely actors tasked with conveying deeply human tales of emotion and connection.
In “Someone I Know, in His Garden I’ve Never Seen,” for instance, Yang intertwines his wife’s quiet care for her small vegetable plot with a short story he wrote about a son reminiscing about his late father through a backyard garden.
“I passed by my wife’s plot every day, and at one point, I realized I was envisioning her — the one who tended it — rather than the plot itself,” Yang shared. “I began to understand that a person is reflected in objects and spaces through the traces they leave behind.”
Likewise, “A Cherishing Heart” encapsulates the silent exchange between Yang and his estranged father over a meal at his grandfather’s funeral.
Yoon uses sculpture as a gateway to explore how the unseen facets of an individual, like inner turmoils and emotional impulses, can be brought into tangible form.
In “Just, You, One, Face” she sculpts her own face from beeswax, reminiscent of votive offerings made in prayer for a heartfelt wish.
What makes it compelling is the creative process behind the piece. The face was crafted by melting wax phonograph cylinders that had recorded the voices of the artist’s four friends, each wishing her well-being through songs, letters, guttural yells or silence.
“I asked my friends, each speaking a different language, to share their feelings about me or our relationship in front of a phonograph,” Yoon said. “Their invisible voices and emotions merged, becoming the very building blocks that shaped my face.”
Similarly, in “There was a time when, not knowing how to live, I took out my entrails to make a net,” the artist manifests her own profound suffering in a visceral way. Via a net-like curtain that appears to be woven from intestines, she draws the depths of her psychological turmoil into the physical realm.
The exhibition, “Korea Artist Prize 2024,” runs through March 23 next year. The prize’s winner will be announced in February and receive an additional 10 million won in support.