Images That Descend and Persist: The Path, Contact, and Message of Arong Chung
Konno Yuki
Arong Chung’s solo exhibition Be Careful What You Wish For (2024) at Project Space SARUBIA featured the work In the Wood (2024). The largest piece in the exhibition, In the Wood, presents a grand forest scene, but there is something unusual—an absence. While the trees occupy the center and clouds form the background, the foreground is left empty. It appears as though additional trees or other elements could fill this space, yet it remains open and unfilled. Viewers encounter this painting as if stepping onto a stage. This void echoes the open space in an earlier work, WoodPaths (2014). In Chung’s 2014 solo exhibition titled Primordial World at Project Space Mo, the painting WoodPaths revealed a distant human figure. Another work from the same exhibition, Primordial World, shared the forest as its setting. While Primordial World contained no sign of human presence, WoodPaths included a figure. If we interpret the traces of human footsteps as forming a path through the woods that allows some presence to emerge, then In the Wood (2024) seems to accept the messages conveyed in its expansive stage-like space. On the left, geometric patterns come into view. Among the surrounding undergrowth, faces emerge. As the empty space remains untouched and symbolic motifs, fish swimming through the earth, and forest spirits are rendered, the painting begins to transcend the realm of mere visual representation of nature. The symbols and spirits, seemingly retreating into the background—along with the clouds and forest—suggest that the painting serves as a site for humans to ascribe meaning and transmit messages.
Spirits, fish, and witch-like symbolic motifs act as carriers of messages within the painting. We must reconsider the phrase “absence of human presence” applied to Primordial World. While the painting may initially appear devoid of life, it contains mechanisms that draw the viewer’s gaze and imbue meaning—whether inside, outside, or straddling the boundaries of the frame. Two works from the Primordial World exhibition, Tranquil and Peaceful Times (Christina’s World) (2014) and Tranquil and Peaceful Times (2014), illustrate a notable visual contrast. The former contains no human figures while the latter depicts two. Yet both works share a commonality: they invite viewers to search for meaning within their subjects. Examining the composition, a tree is visible in the upper-right corner of both works. It appears to be the same tree depicted at different points in time. There is even a smaller piece with the same title where the tree is the sole focus. In Tranquil and Peaceful Times, two figures walk toward the tree. Meanwhile, in Tranquil and Peaceful Times (Christina’s World), the viewer’s pursuit of meaning revolves around the painted scene itself. In “Christina’s World,” Christina does not appear on the canvas. Only Christina knows that this place is her world; her world exists here. At the same time, one might imagine Christina hiding somewhere in the grassy field. Like the partial image at the end of the Primordial World exhibition catalog, a life-sized ambiguous figure flickers between presence and absence within the grass. Christina’s world exists there, yet it is simultaneously shaped by the viewer’s interpretation.
What do Arong Chung’s paintings reveal in the unseen? This question can be explored in connection with Martin Heidegger’s philosophy, which understands art as both the concealment of the earth and an opening to the world. Chung creates mechanisms within her paintings that open up a world and establish points of contact. Witch-like motifs in her works—or in series where symbols are rendered independently—function almost as talismans, imbuing the paintings with a sense of magical force. Similarly, some scenes evoke biblical verses, conveying moral messages. At times, she uses iconography to convey meaning, as in Fac Fortia et Patere, Vincit qui Patitur (Do Brave Deeds and Endure. He Who Endures Will Conquer.) (2024), a piece reflecting the artist’s personal aspirations for growth. Chung’s diverse visual language—spanning natural landscapes, symbolic motifs, and morally instructive scenes—makes identifying a unifying theme challenging. However, all these works can be understood as paintings that prepare the canvas for meanings and messages to emerge. As suggested by the title of her solo exhibition at Project Space SARUBIA, Be Careful What You Wish For, the artist’s preparatory work is rediscovered and redefined through the settings she creates in her paintings. This pursuit is reflected in works like the Archetype for Self-Realization (2024) series and pieces displayed on the gallery walls, including Fiat Amore (Let There Be Love) (2024), Cracking Egg (2024), and Be Careful What You Wish For (2024), which depict hands holding or touching objects, glimmering fingers, or hands reaching outward.
The hands Arong Chung paints do more than merely touch objects; they acquire meaning and messages through the act. In other words, hands that reach out or attempt to touch allow meanings and messages to be brought into and through the painting. When a hand is directed toward something, or when it touches or holds an object, it becomes evident that the earlier metaphor of "the earth" is not solely about solidity. Chung’s reference to Carl Jung's concept of Jungian Archetypes aligns with Gaston Bachelard's perspective, which views the psychoanalytic attitude as deeply profound and structurally resilient. Some elements can be acquired, be imbued with meaning, and carry messages—not from firm ground, but from a state of suspension in midair. This is why she paints clouds in works like Be Careful What You Wish For and Fiat (Let It Be Done) (2024), as well as a UFO in UFO (2024). Meanings and messages are not reducibly anchored to psychoanalytic desire; instead, they descend from a void or the sky, becoming images that are grasped—or that grasp us. For example, in Be Careful What You Wish For, clouds occupy the background but their presence is fluid and unfixed like real clouds, unbound by desire. The clouds and the UFO represent the advent of enigmatic entities but bear an indicative and ambivalent character, which can also be interpreted as symbols of salvation.
At this point, the ambivalence depends on the psychological state projected by the viewer, making it ultimately shaped by their interpretation. Thus, we return to the beginning: standing in the empty space of Be Careful What You Wish For. How can we bring forth meanings and messages utilizing the mechanisms prepared for us? Could the path of judgment and interpretation lies between the earth and the world? Approaching this space might involve drawing meaning from what is given—or wandering aimlessly, unable to do so. Arong Chung reflects, “As I face my canvas up close and paint countless trees, branches, flowers, shrubs, soil, and stones that overwhelm me, I find myself wandering within the frame with a brush and paint in hand, like a flâneur lost in the forest—my subject of painting.” Yet, she stands on the stage inside the incredible realm of painting and paints that world, a fantastical world. Spirits, symbols, clouds, and forests float above the earth, and viewers also find their place within this space. The title Release of Ego (2024) is aptly chosen, but could it signify a soul freed from the body, reappearing before us in the form of a cloud? In Arong Chung’s pictorial space, both unfamiliar and welcoming, the artist and the viewer confront and embrace the meanings and messages to invite them into their own.
Yuki Konno (Art Critic)
Yuki Konno is a writer who observes and critiques art exhibitions in both Korea and Japan. He has curated exhibitions such as After 10.12 (Audio Visual Pavilion, 2018) and with Korean and Eastern Painting (Gallery TOWED, FINCH ARTS, Jungganjijeom II, 2022), and has participated in numerous others through co-curation and collaborative projects. He is a co-organizer of Padograph, a bilingual platform that shares exhibition information between Korea and Japan. In 2019, he received second prize in the GRAVITY EFFECT criticism contest.
