Nothing To Hide: The Sculptures of JinYoung Yu
Jinyoung Yu is not the type of person who makes small talk at parties. Phony pleasantries make the Korean sculptress uncomfortable, so assuming she even attends a party in the first place, Jinyoung tends to steer clear of all the societal pretenses. When asked to describe the overall theme of her work, Jinyoung says, “I want to get away from the plastic smiles and fake facial expressions.” Enter the artist’s growing army of invisible people, fascinating figures who like Jinyoung, would like nothing more than to see humanity laid bare, almost entirely bare.
For that precise reason, each pigeon-toed figure she creates, aside from their somber faces and random accessories, is completely see-thru. Constructed entirely out of a self-formulated PVC (glass and clear plastic just weren’t transparent enough) each invisible man, woman and child is a three-dimensional examination of hypocrisy, domestic secrets and the ongoing battle between our private versus public self. Complex topics for work in any medium but poignantly so in sculptures of such minimalistic form. Created in full scale and often standing four feet tall, the translucent sculptures are as awe-inspiring as they are controversial.
“My figures express the loneliness of people living today. People make exaggerated gestures and stiff, expressionless faces when responding to something that is in opposition of their feelings, regardless of their will. People sometimes want to be invisible or hide themselves, or look at others with their true feelings. I intend to remind viewers of the loneliness of people in this modern society, where there is little of true communication.”
The invisible people are Jinyoung’s attempt to fill the world with a good dose of candor, by expressing the internal workings and emotions of those who aren’t afraid to show society exactly what kind of masks they’re wearing now.
Born in Korea in 1977, Jinyoung is well trained and even better educated, earning a B.F.A. in sculpture from Sungshin Women’s University in 2001, followed by her M.F.A. in 2005. But it would take the element of surprise plus the strange incarnation of a mysterious visitor for Jinyoung to really come into her own as an artist.
“This is the beginning of the story from which I made the invisible people: Even though I did not know about this person, he knew me so well. He said he’d been working with me for over a year. He was a transparent or non-existent being, at least to me. Here, the invisible person is no one else but myself.”
Abundant Emptiness opened in 2006 and was Jinyoung’s first solo show to feature the transparent sculptures that now take up the majority of her time. While simpler in technique and execution than what she is capable of today, the thematic nuances of “the individual isolated from society” would be the jumping-off point Jinyoung was looking for in terms of creativity and focus.
“I like 3-D. I thought it would be cool to install my real-sized figures somewhere, anywhere as if they were real human beings. 3-D makes it possible. For Abundant Emptiness, I hid my pieces behind columns, in corners, at the end of walls and so forth. Viewers would suddenly come across real-sized figures in the gallery, not expecting to find something so huge.”
My figures express the loneliness of people living today. People make exaggerated gestures and stiff, expressionless faces when responding to something that is in opposition of their feelings, regardless of their will.
I hid my pieces behind columns, in corners, at the end of walls and so forth. Viewers would suddenly come across real-sized figures in the gallery, not expecting to find something so huge.”
“Painstaking” is a vast understatement when it comes to describing the process each life-sized figure undergoes before completion. Regardless of the project, each piece starts out as a story. Jinyoung imagines each situation carefully, picturing the patterns, props and facial expressions suitable for each person before actually laying anything down on paper. Yet, no person or scenario is ever drawn out in detail beforehand. Much like a writer shapes their protagonists and villains; Jinyoung lets each character express itself as she creates, as they’re in the process of being made. After finally sketching out her ideas
and checking the composition, Jinyoung proceeds to the most intimate process: turning her imaginings into 3-D.
“All of my figures are produced with clay. I make everything including the faces, bodies, socks, hands, and even the accessories. Then, I create a mold using plastics or transparent PVC. For the bodies, I make a plaster mold, perfectly modifying the plaster to each mold by heating it up.” Jinyoung explains. Each piece is created individually before being reassembled and woven together with transparent thread. It takes about 40 days to make one figure.
To describe Jinyoung’s work in any detail is to literally dissect the essence of humanity and alienation. Take the petite, rain boot-wearing child with the impossibly cute dog. Aside from the patterned boots and the mask resting atop her head, the girl is entirely transparent. She is armless, expressionless. The white dog at her feet stands just as stoically as she, with a small mask of his own tied below the chin, mirroring his owner, daring anyone to approach.
There are something like 52 muscles in the human face, and amazingly, nearly every sculpture Jinyoung creates manages to control each and every one. Like a creepy party mask, or department store mannequin, mouths are drawn tight and eyes stare straight ahead. The faces are an exercise in learned restraint, betraying nothing by holding everything in. For those rare figures that do break the mold, it is only to display an individual on the verge of weeping.
So goes the rest of Jinyoung’s silent army. Whether it’s a flowered frock, somber mask or small hand puppet, each accessory acts as an additional prop for concealing the individual’s true feelings and emotions. If it weren’t for these random accoutrements, each figure would be absolutely invisible and absolutely hidden. In more recent work, Jinyoung has also begun to incorporate painted backgrounds which show through each figure, emphasizing their ability to blend into their surroundings.
“My creations represent those who have chosen a life apart from others, as if they are invisible or non-existent beings. Instead of adapting themselves to human society, they enter into their own personal space, avoiding other’s interruptions.”
Jinyoung’s vision, message and technique hit full stride in 2008’s A Family in Disguise. Shown as a solo exhibit at the Union Gallery in London, Jinyoung used the microcosm of a family unit to represent society as a whole, closely examining the myriad of ways in which people hide, using the concept of “home” to parallel a place of escape. The show was as much about concealment as it was revelation.
Jinyoung explains further. “A Family in Disguise starts with a situation where the transparent people, who just want to hide, have no choice but to greet their guests. The figures try to look ordinary, like any other happy family. They decorate, wear gorgeous clothes and stand side by side to greet the guests. At first glance, it seems like a lovely family but you cannot avoid feeling the somber atmosphere. All the conversations and greetings lack sincerity and truthfulness, placing everybody at the party in trouble. It shows the conflicts created by lack of communication in families and in societies.”
My creations represent those who have chosen a life apart from others, as if they are invisible or non-existent beings.
By its very nature, the concept of invisibility opens up a host of contradictions. Someone who is invisible remains unseen by others, the body itself a barrier keeping others at bay. Invisibility also invites varying degrees of freedom and power to the individual, for what wouldn’t you do if anonymity was guaranteed? Yet the pros are also the cons. Those rendered undetectable are left to exist alone, without companionship or solace, without friend or foe. Invisibility is equal parts freedom and trap, ultimately warranting the question, is invisibility a blessing or a curse?
Jinyoung recognizes the paradox and the contradiction, often speaking in character when attempting to describe the inner turmoil of her figures.
“The transparent body means a perfect shield that makes it possible to hide itself anywhere, while the crying face represents a warning: ‘Don’t come towards me!’ My figures defend themselves through their crying faces, making it difficult for others to come any closer. If others do approach and say something to comfort them, they might burst out crying. But it is also true that people cannot just pass them by after seeing their faces. The figures seem to be saying: ‘Come to me, if you’re able to comfort me with all your heart!’ It’s a sign of warning and a refusal to the people who try to help, not having fully understood their situations.”
So how does one make sense of it all? Is it better to shout and carry on or to hide in the corner, feigning weak smiles? Is wearing your heart on your sleeve any better than putting on a mask? As in any intellectual debate about identity, conformity or individualism, it’s hard to make a shatter-proof argument one way or the other. All I know is that when I look at one of Jinyoung Yu’s invisible people, they look familiar to me. I understand. I understand because I know them as myself.
Jinyoung’s work is for the loner in all of us, for those outside of the world; those who find comfort inside their own private sphere yet long to show their true self: a self free of lies and fraudulent affectation. As stunning as the work may be and as dedicated an artist as she is, the true aim of Jinyoung’s invisible people lies in the instinctual pursuit to find and celebrate the sincere individual lurking inside each of us.
When I ask Jinyoung how she expresses her own individuality, the answer is steadfast and pure. “I express my thoughts and my opinions through my work. I feel this is enough. I like being ordinary. No matter where I go or whom I meet, I just want to look ordinary. I want myself to be mingled with other people, being neither too gorgeous nor too shabby. I believe if a person thinks, behaves, and expresses in his or her own way, which is new, his or her life shall be much more diverse with more things to enjoy.”*
Junyoung you was last feature in the Hi-Fructose Collected Edition #3. Support what we do and get a print subscription to Hi-Fructose here.
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