The Last Pavilion E-Book

Arts Council Korea

• Herausgeber: Arts Council Korea
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 535

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

This archival publication was launched in conjunction with "Every Island is a Mountain", a special exhibition commemorating the 30th anniversary of the Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale.

Leseprobe

Foreword Byoung Gug Choung

Preface Jade Keunhye Lim

Chapter 1 Prequel

The Last Pavilion

Kyoung-yun Ho

Behind the Scenes: Designing the Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale

Seok Chul Kim

On the 30th Anniversary of the Venice Biennale’s Korean Pavilion (EN)

Franco Mancuso & Ernesta Serena

IL PADIGLIONE DELLA COREA ALLA BIENNALE DI VENEZIA (IT)

Chapter 2 Previous Art Exhibitions

[1995] On the Occasion of the Inauguration of the Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale

Lee Yil

[1997] Exhibition Preface

Kwang-su Oh

[1999] The Korean Pavilion at the 48th Venice Biennale

Misook Song

[2001] Dialectical Identity, Visible / Invisible

Kyung-mee Park

[2003] Landscape of Differences

Kim Hong-hee

[2005] Secret beyond the door

Sunjung Kim

[2007] The Cabinet of a Pseudo-Scientist

Soyeon Ahn

[2009] A Conversation

Haegue Yang & Eungie Joo

[2011] The Love is gone, but the Scar will heal

Yun Cheagab

[2013] Facing Stromboli

Seungduk Kim

[2015] A Place Without Memories

Sook-Kyung Lee

[2017] Counterbalance: The Stone and the Mountain

Lee Daehyung

[2019] History Has Failed Us, But No Matter

Hyunjin Kim

[2022] Review of the Korean Pavilion Curator Selection Meeting at the 59th International Art Exhibition at the

[2024] Review of the Korean Pavilion Curator Selection Meeting at the 60th International Art Exhibition at the 2024 Venice Biennale

Chapter 3 Studies

The Venice Biennale’s Korean Pavilion and Curatorship

Kim Hong-hee

30 Years of Adversities, Connecting Broken Trajectories

Kyoung-yun Ho

How the Venice Biennale’s Korean Pavilion Came to Be

Young-chul Lee

Chapter 4 Index

Chronology 1986–2024

Biography

Bibliography & Image Captions

Introduction

1. The official name of the Venice Biennale in Italian is “La Biennale di Venezia.” Its art exhibition is followed by the title “International Art Exhibition,” but this part of the name is omitted and the proper noun “Venice Biennale” is used in this publication to refer to the art event.

2. The Giardini and Castello are often used interchangeably to refer to the location at which the Korean Pavilion of the Venice Biennale is located. The accurate description of the location is, in fact, the Giardini within the district of Castello (Giardini della Biennale, Sestiere Castello 30122 Venice). In this publication, we call this place “the Giardini,” which means “park” in Italian.

3. In the Korean edition, proper nouns such as the names of people and places are only provided in Korean without their English or Romanized versions. For their names in English or their original languages, please refer to The Last Pavilion, the English edition of this publication.

4. The Romanization of proper nouns in Korean are based on their Korean pronunciations, with the exception of the names of some artists or writers, which were specifically provided.

5. ARKO Arts Archive under the Arts Council Korea (ARKO) currently archives “The Venice Biennale Collection” as a separate set of records. Most records referenced in this archival publication were drawn from and organized according to the ARKO Arts Archive collection data, and the sources of other references are provided in as much detail as possible. Nevertheless, there were still some materials for which their copyrights were unknown, and in such cases, information was identified and shared to the best of our knowledge. Should there be any material for which their source should be corrected or that requires discussion with regard to copyright, please contact the editorial team.

6. Chapter 2 consists of prefaces from the 1995 to 2024 exhibition catalogues, writings by commissioners/curators, and interviews. Republished texts are provided with accurate citations of their sources and minimal corrections and revisions were made, with changes made only to symbols, units, word spacing, and proper nouns. Each exhibition’s credits are based on the information published in the exhibition catalogues and websites, but the order and method in which they are printed have been modified in some parts to maintain consistency throughout this publication.

7. The official website of the Venice Biennale was referenced for the abbreviated history of the Venice Biennale in Chapter 4, while the ARKO website and Arts Council Korea, Its 40-Year History (1973 – 2013) were referenced for the brief history of ARKO. Seoul Mediacity Biennale 1900–2020 Report (Seoul Museum of Art, 2022), Korean Art 1900–2020 (National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, Korea, 2021), and Kim Yong-Ik Solo Exhibition: Closer… Come Closer… (Ilmin Museum of Art, 2016) were used for the chronology of major events in the Korean history of contemporary art. Other general history of Korea referenced in this publication is based on information found on the NAVER News Library and the “Chronology and Records: Archiving Changes of the Eras” page on the National Archives of Korea website.

8. Hyperlinks are embedded in the § symbols and footnotes found throughout the text, providing direct links to the relevant footnote reference and writer information.

▼ Photos from the opening ceremony of the Korean Pavilion, 1995. ⓒMancuso e Serena Architetti Associati. Courtesy of ARKO Arts Archive, Arts Council Korea.

Foreword

Founded in 1895, the Venice Biennale stands as the world’s oldest and most prestigious international art exhibition, comprising the main exhibition led by curators and national pavilion exhibitions representing individual participating countries. Since opening the Korean Pavilion as the last national pavilion in the Giardini, the main venue of the Venice Biennale centennial in 1995, Arts Council Korea (ARKO) has served as a bridgehead to introduce South Korean art to the global stage for the past 30 years. In celebration of the 30th anniversary of the Korean Pavilion, ARKO launches this archival publication, The Last Pavilion, in conjunction with the opening of the special exhibition Every Island is a Mountain in Venice, to reflect on its achievements and to redesign its future vision.

Since 1928, the Venice Biennale has operated the Historical Archives of Contemporary Arts (ASAC), a dedicated archival space, which has played a pivotal role in broadening the scope of academic research and discussion surrounding the biennale. ARKO has also built up a collection primarily consisting of documentary materials related to the previous editions of the Venice Biennale at ARKO Art Archive, founded in 1979 to collect, preserve, and provide access to important archival materials that trace the history of modern and contemporary Korean art. The collection includes 3,973 pieces of records related to the establishment and construction of the Korean Pavilion, donated by Professor Franco Mancuso, co-architect of the Korean Pavilion, as well as a wide range of documentary materials produced by the commissioners and curators involved in the previous exhibitions at the Korean Pavilion. Drawing on these archival sources, this publication presents the historical significance of the Korean Pavilion and its vision for the future, featuring a chronology of 15 art exhibitions held at the Korean Pavilion since its foundation, exhibition forewords by previous commissioners and curators, and newly written contributions by architect Franco Mancuso and former commissioners Kim Hong-hee, Young-chul Lee, former deputy commissioner Kyoung-yun Ho.

I extend my heartfelt gratitude to the authors who readily accepted the commission to contribute to this publication and the previous curators and artists who generously provided valuable materials and granted permission for their use in this archival publication, which captures the history of the Korean Pavilion at the biennale. My aspiration is for this publication to serve as a valuable resource for diverse academic studies and exhibition planning, encompassing not just the Korean Pavilion at the biennale but also the internationalization of South Korean art and South Korea’s role and contributions to the international art scene.

Byoung Gug Choung

Chairperson

Arts Council Korea

Preface

This publication encapsulates the accomplishments of South Korean art achieved over the past 30 years through its interaction with the world and their significance, centered on the Korean Pavilion, which was built in 1995 as the last national pavilion in the Giardini, the main stage of the Venice Biennale. It brings together exhibition-related texts and materials produced by the architects who designed the Korean Pavilion and the commissioners and curators who organized the exhibitions, and includes a chronology outlining the history of the pavilion, alongside contributions that reevaluate the Korean Pavilion in the context of the shifting global cultural and artistic landscape since the end of the last century.

Chapter 1, on the background and process of building the Korean Pavilion, begins with recollections from Venice-based architect Franco Mancuso and Korean architect Seok Chul Kim, who co-designed the Korean Pavilion. They vividly recount how Nam June Paik, whom Kim could encounter a year after being invited to participate in the Venice Architecture Biennale in 1992, proposed the construction of the Korean Pavilion at a meeting with the South Korean president, making it a governmental project. The process of obtaining permission from the city of Venice and completing construction in seven months was genuinely remarkable. Mancuso’s recollections also depict the passionate and friendly interactions among the individuals involved, who pooled their wisdom to meet the highly strict architectural requirements, from finding an empty spot between protected trees to build the last pavilion to ensuring that the building did not change the terrain or obstruct the surrounding scenery. The establishment of the Korean Pavilion, dubbed a “small miracle” by the mayor of Venice at the time, raises an important question of what the Korean Pavilion means to us 30 years later. In particular, Seok Chul Kim’s assertion that “The Korean Pavilion is not just a national pavilion, but the first pavilion to start the next 100 years,” which impressed the Venetian authorities, reveals a vision and symbolic significance of the Korean Pavilion that hints at South Korea’s contribution and role in the new, multifaceted landscape of global cultural politics, instead of simply being a source of pride for an emerging culturally advanced country.

Chapters 2 and 3 provide an overview of the 15 exhibitions at the Korean Pavilion that have served as a bridgehead for the internationalization of South Korean art since its establishment. Through the various texts written by the 15 commissioners/curators at the time of the exhibitions, one can trace the curatorial changes from the early exhibitions that explored Korean identity to the more recent exhibitions that resonate with the various themes presented by the main exhibition of the biennale. In Chapter 3, “The Venice Biennale’s Korean Pavilion and Curatorship,” Kim Hong-hee reviews the past 30 years of exhibitions in the Korean Pavilion in relation to the main exhibition, highlighting that “South Korean curators who are active on the global stage harbor ambitions of achieving a global quality while also ensuring their own identity based on discourses of difference.” Kim’s perspective, which describes the biennale as “a process of endless dialectical collision between internationalism and nationalism,” is echoed in Young-chul Lee’s essay on Nam June Paik, who served a central role in establishing the Korean Pavilion. In “How the Venice Biennale’s Korean Pavilion Came to Be,” he reinterprets the 1993 Venice Biennale’s main exhibition and the German Pavilion’s winning of the Golden Lion Award, in which Paik participated, as symbolic events marking the emergence of a new paradigm in cultural politics accompanying the collapse of communism and the massive changes brought about by globalization, explaining how the Korean Pavilion was founded within this context of profound change. That is, Paik’s artistic insight into Eurasia as a continuum divided by Western-centrism and his artistic commitment to connecting the fragmented world through media technology is inherent in the Korean Pavilion, built two years later in 1995.

In “30 Years of Adversities, Connecting Broken Trajectories,” Kyoung-yun Ho summarizes the changes in the operation of the Korean Pavilion, focusing on the role of commissioners, the selection of curators, and corporate sponsorship. Additionally, she presents the challenges ahead, including the aging of the building, budget increases, and full-scale archiving, while asking what new vision the Korean Pavilion can offer beyond serving as a platform to introduce South Korean artists. She reflects that the nature of national pavilions “can be characterized by its fluidity, which disrupts the lines between the center and the peripheral. Moreover, artistic imagination demonstrated across diverse territories gives rise to a new community.” Such insight leads to the understanding that the role of national pavilions is not about selecting artists to represent the country and competing, but about seeking to change the cultural landscape through the formation of new relationships.

This publication is an archival accomplishment that compiles information from the past, but it is also an intermediate output created through processes to chart the course for the future. A series of initiatives, including the roundtable discussion “The Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale: Issues and Possibilities for a New Future,” the nationwide public hearing “Discussing the Sustainability of the Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale,” and the symposium “Sustainability of Biennales and the Internationalization of South Korean Art,” pursued since 2023 in the run-up to the 30th anniversary of the Korean Pavilion, as well as the exhibition Every Island is a Mountain, which will be held in Venice during the 2024 Venice Biennale, will open up new ways for the next generation to encounter the world through the Korean Pavilion. I hope this publication will serve as a guide in this endeavor.

Jade Keunhye Lim

General Director

ARKO Art Center

The Last Pavilion

§Kyoung-yun Ho

This publication examines the development of the Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale over the 30 years since its inauguration in 1995 by focusing on the trajectory of the art exhibitions displayed there. Before proceeding, we will summarize the historical evolution of the Venice Biennale, the characteristics of the Korean Pavilion, and the circumstances in South Korea and Venice between 1993 and 1995 that brought forth the construction of the very last national pavilion in the Giardini.

National Pavilions Nestled in the Park

When the Venice Biennale was first planned in 1895, the founding principle was that the number of Italian artists would not exceed the number of foreign artists. It was intended to showcase 150 works by artists from 14 different countries, 150 works by Italian artists, and 50 additional works selected by a committee. The idea of national pavilions originated after the first iteration when the Italian artists criticized the “internationality” of the biennale. In response, the Secretary-General of the biennale, Antonio Fradeletto, proposed that a dedicated pavilion for each country be built in the Giardini della Biennale in the Castello district to showcase the works of the foreign artists. This proposal opened many possibilities for the Venice Biennale. The municipal authorities of Venice approved this project to showcase foreign artists and authorized the construction of national pavilions in the Giardini.

Countries who received approval from the city of Venice could immediately decide if they wished to build their own national pavilion. If an agreement to build one was reached between a country and the city of Venice, the pavilion became the property of the corresponding state. The nation would assume the responsibility for all expenses and maintenance of the pavilion. As a result, the Venice Biennale was able to gain another source of revenue and secure additional space for Italian artists in the main exhibition hall while easing the burden of the costs of operating the event. The Belgian Pavilion became the first to open under this system in 1907. It was followed by the Hungarian Pavilion (1909), the German Pavilion (1909), the British Pavilion (1909), the French Pavilion (1912), the Dutch Pavilion (1912), and the Russian Pavilion (1914). Nine additional pavilions were built in the 1950s and 1960s, and the Australian Pavilion went up in 1988. South Korea constructed its national pavilion in 1995 and remains the last country to open a pavilion in the Giardini.

It is worth noting, however, that in the years since the Australian Pavilion opened in 1988, many countries have rented buildings outside of the Giardini to host their own national pavilion exhibitions. South Korea participated in the Venice Biennale four times between 1986 and 1993 before the Korean Pavilion was founded. The participating artists and commissioners were as follows: At the 42nd edition (1986), artists Ha Dong-chul and Ko Young-hoon, and commissioner Lee Yil; at the 43rd edition (1988), artists Park Seo-bo and Kim Kwan-soo, and commissioner Ha Chong-Hyun; at the 44th edition (1990), artists Hong Myung-seop and Cho Sung-mook, and commissioner Seung-taek Lee; and at the 45th edition (1993), artists Ha Chong-Hyun and commissioner Seo Seung-won. They carried out their exhibitions under very poor conditions in a booth-like space with walls approximately 20 meters in length at the Arsenale exhibition hall.

Representatives of the Korean Ministry of Culture and Sports and other South Korean art figures had repeatedly approached the city of Venice in attempts to secure a better space, but each time their requests were turned down. There was very little space left in the Giardini, and many countries were waiting in line to build pavilions there. Countries sought to build their pavilions within the Giardini not only for its historical significance, but also for its better accessibility to visitors—those who have visited the Venice Biennale in person agree that there is a stark difference in accessibility between the spaces inside and outside of the Giardini. However, since the Giardini is designated as a Venetian cultural asset and not a single tree may be cut down without approval, the Venice Biennale was not even allowing expansions of existing buildings, let alone new construction within the park. However, as we all know, one more building would eventually be constructed in the park—the Korean Pavilion. Fast-forwarding to 1995, in a television interview clip showing the opening ceremony of the Korean Pavilion, Nam June Paik jokingly remarks to himself, “No one can build one after us. There were twenty countries waiting in front of us, and we built it.”1

▼ Artist Ko Younghoon, the first Korean artist to participate in the Venice Biennale in 1986, photographed for commemoration at the award ceremony. Courtesy of Ko Younghoon.

The Midwife of the Korean Pavilion, Nam June Paik

Nam June Paik exhibited in the German Pavilion along with Hans Haacke at the Venice Biennale in 1993, and he took homethe Golden Lion award. Paik used this momentum to lay the foundation for the realization of the Korean Pavilion. At a reception on the night of the Golden Lion award, Paik gathered with other figures from the Korean art world and some Korean entrepreneurs who were visiting Venice at the time and discussed the idea of establishing a Korean pavilion. The architect Seok Chul Kim, who had already exhibited and lectured in the city and at the University of Venice, was also present. Paik asked Kim to create a preliminary design and offered to pay for the design fee. Paik met with city planners at Comune di Venezia, and he also formed public opinion in South Korea in favor of the construction of the pavilion.

“The government is barely interested in the international art scene. It is a great shame that we missed the opportunity to transform the former East German Pavilion that became available after German reunification or one of the museums near the Corderie where Aperto 93 is being held. I hope that during the coming 100th anniversary of the Venice Biennale we will have the active support and interest of the Korean government.”2

Upon his return to South Korea, Paik met with the president Kim Young-sam in August 1993 and explained to him that building a Korean pavilion at the Venice Biennale would be a decisive step toward raising the global profile of Korean art. The president agreed, instructing Minister of Culture and Sports Lee Min-seop to pursue the idea. The minister hosted a luncheon at the Daejeon Expo, inviting Achille Bonito Oliva, president of the Venice Biennale’s executive committee, and Gino Di Maggio, the founder and president of Fonzazione Mudima in Milan, to convey the government’s intentions and ask for cooperation. Kim Soon-gyu (then director of the Arts Promotion Bureau at the Ministry of Culture and Sports), Nam June Paik, Seok Chul Kim, and the art critic Yongwoo Lee also attended the luncheon.

The Italian critic Oliva, one of the founders of the Italian Transavantgarde, has deep ties with Korean art. He servedon the jury of the Seoul Art Festival in 1990 at the suggestion of Lee O-young, then the first minister of the Ministry of Culture. The festival was organized by the National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art and curated by Yongwoo Lee. More than 60 leading artists from around the world were invited to create works using hanji (Korean traditional paper). At the time, Lee asked Oliva how Korea might be allowed to build a pavilion at the Venice Biennale, but his answer was that it would be impossible: the entire city of Venice is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, so there are strict development regulations. Furthermore, there were already too many competing countries waiting to build their own pavilions in the Giardini. They included, China and Argentina, the latter of which was the original country of the largest immigrant group in Italy. Fortuitously, two years later, Oliva was appointed as the general director of the Venice Biennale.

“I invited Achille Bonito Oliva to join the jury of the Daejeon Expo’s Regenerative Sculpture Pavilion exhibition withVenice in mind. Nam June Paik was working on an exhibition project at the Daejeon Expo at the time, so he and I brought up the idea of a Korean pavilion at the Venice Biennale to Oliva once again. We suggested that if the Venice Biennale Foundation supports us, we can take care of the Venice municipal government, the Italian national government, the Cultural Heritage Administration, and others. Right after I said that, Paik jumped to the conversation with the trump card—a proposal for a shared usage of the pavilion between North and South Korea.”3

The South Korean side quickly drew up a proposal and began to contact the Venice authorities. They met with the VeniceCity Commissioner, the Director of the Cultural Heritage Administration, and the Director of the Architecture Bureau, and succeeded in receiving their promise that a formal proposal from the Korean government would be officially reviewed. On May 5, 1994, they submitted a formal application package for the construction of the pavilion. It contained a full application signed by the South Korean Ambassador to Italy, a letter from the Minister of Culture and Sports of South Korea to the Mayor of Venice, and a proposed design for the Korean Pavilion.

The atmosphere of this time, not long after the fall of the Berlin Wall and the reunification of Germany in 1989, was still tinged with idealism. The slogan “Healing political tensions through art” and the manifest desire for the eventual reunification of North and South Korea played a major role in winning approval for the Korean Pavilion.4 However, around that time Kim Il Sung’s death created an unpredictable variable. In response, Vice Minister Kim Do-hyun, acting on behalf of the Minister of Culture and Sports, Tourism, went to Venice to meet with the mayor. He presented the architectural conception of the pavilion and clarified the South Korean government’s position on the Korean Pavilion as a symbolic project of a “New Korea” aiming at globalization. As a result, the project was approved in a little over a year.

▼ Left: Korean Traditional Art, The Korean Culture and Arts Foundation, 1995. Courtesy of ARKO Arts Archive, Arts Council Korea

Photo by CJYART STUDIO Junyong Cho.

▼ Right, Bottom: Korean Contemporary Art, The Korean Culture and Arts Foundation, 1995. Courtesy of ARKO Arts Archive, Arts Council Korea

    Photo by CJYART STUDIO Junyong Cho.

The Korea Culture and Arts Foundation published books titled Korean Traditional Art and Korean Contemporary Art in Korean and English to provide an understanding of the art historical context of Korea ahead of the opening of the Korean Pavilion. Edited by Hwi Joon Ahn, the books include works by Kimsooja, Jheon Soocheon, and others.

South Korea Brimming with International Aspirations in the 1990s

It is impressive that the Korea Pavilion was shepherded from the discussion stage to its opening within just two years. The mere seven months that passed from the groundbreaking ceremony5 on November 8, 1994 to the completion of the construction is especially remarkable. The Korean Pavilion was designed by Seok Chul Kim and Franco Mancuso. Samsung Construction Inc. was responsible for the framework, including the exterior glass, as well as the heating and cooling systems, while the Italian contractor ICCEM carried out the foundation, finishing, and facilities work. Samsung was responsible for the overall construction management, and the South Korean governmental official who specializes in architecture and construction within the Ministry of Culture and Sports acted as an on-site supervisor. The original plan to complete the project in March 1995 had to be adjusted due to unforeseen circumstances, such as the need to modify plans to avoid damaging tree roots as mandated by the stringent local building code, or the halting of work for discussions over the demolition of existing sewer pipes with the Venice city authorities. To allow time for the installation of the exhibiting artists’ works prior to the biennale’s opening, the interior work was completed on May 15 and the building was inspected on May 30, 1995. After the exhibition opened, some finishing work was performed, and the pavilion was finally deemed completed on December 22.

The process leading to the opening of the Korean Pavilion at the 1995 Venice Biennale involved the efforts of various parties and a somewhat rushed progression. This reflected the economic and political situation in South Korea at the time and its political relations with the rest of the world. The successful opening of the Korean Pavilion despite the variables involved was due not only to the philosophy or ambitions of the individuals directly involved with the Pavilion, such as artists, curators, and architects, but also to the resolve of the government.

More importantly, the Korean Pavilion was made possible not only by South Korea’s economic development but also the rapid increase in overseas activities and international exchanges taking place in South Korean art in the 1990s. The rapid industrialization and economic development of the 1970s had spurred many South Koreans’ desires to take part in the international community, as exemplified by the international events hosted by South Korea, including the 1986 Asian Games, the 1988 Seoul Olympics, and the 1993 Daejeon Expo. In conjunction with these events, the South Korean art world began to more actively engage with its international counterparts. For example, works by established artists from other countries were brought in when creating the Olympic Sculpture Park and for special art exhibitions at the Daejeon Expo.

Especially since 1993, the Kim Young-sam administration, having moved away from the prior military regimes, strengthened its identity as a ‘civilian government’ and promoted decentralization and globalization as a motto. In 1994, the institute that was renamed the Korea Culture and Tourism Institute (initially established as the Korean Institute for Cultural Policy Development) aimed to develop systematic policies through research in the fields of culture and tourism. It also sought to nurture the culture industry. According to a report published in March 1995 that was designed to encourage the more active promotion of South Korean cultural centers overseas, the concept of international cultural exchange was defined as “Different cultures intersecting and joining the flow of a new world civilization.” Accordingly, the report emphasized the role of the central government, local governments, public institutions, and public organizations as participants in international cultural exchanges. It also pointed out the inadequacies of South Korea’s cultural exchanges in previous years and suggested a ‘New Korea Cultural Development Five-Year Plan’ that would be more appropriate for an era of globalization in line with the goals of the Kim Youngsam government.

▼ Logo of the Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale, 1995.

The symbolic logo type for the opening of the Korean Pavilion was designed by the design company HexaComm and was unveiled on May 18, 1995. At the time, the Korea Culture and Arts Foundation explained, “Adopting Korea’s unique Taeguk mark as the basic shape, the logo expresses a sense of enterprising and active movement through the tail-like line that stretches out vigorously along a spiral trajectory, symbolizing the dynamic Korean art expanding to the world.” It was used until the 1999 exhibition catalog.

A Forward Base for the Internationalization of South Korean Art

The year 1995 in which the Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale was established had been named the “Year of Fine Arts” as the fifth part of South Korea’s ten-year cultural development plan called the “Year of Culture and Arts” that had been implemented since 1991. The plan was to build a foundation for the development of the arts and culture through focused support for respective sectors and specifically targeting improvement of the cultural and artistic sectors, supporting artists and arts organizations, and internationalizing the arts and culture. The General Director of the 1993 Venice Biennale Oliva, who actively interacted with the South Korean art scene before and after 1990 and helped establish the Korean Pavilion, said in a conversation with a South Korean art magazine:

“Korea’s designation of this year as the ‘Year of Fine Arts’ is, in our opinion, an extraordinary event, and we believe it to be a very good opportunity. It would be considered impossible from a European mindset. I don’t know how many years ago this Year of Fine Arts was planned, but the issue is that in Europe, exhibition schedules are all set in advance, so the point would be to plan events that would occur in 1996 or 1997 for a Year of Fine Arts. I had an opportunity to make the first connection in realizing the Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale, but starting with the construction of the Pavilion, it would be desirable to try to establish a bridgehead in Europe. I think that events like the Gwangju Biennale, which is being planned this year, can help provide a foothold for Korean art to take part in international exchanges.”6

The year 1995 when the Korean Pavilion opened at the Venice Biennale was also the inaugural year for the Gwangju Biennale. From this year onward, a new system known as biennales began to take hold in the South Korean art world. In addition, the Busan Biennale (formerly PICAF Busan International Art Festival) in 1998 and the Seoul Mediacity Biennale (formerly the International Seoul Media Art Biennale) in 2000 were launched in succession. Thus, the framework of the three major South Korean Biennales was established. Biennales have become more than passing events and in some ways have become more influential than permanent exhibitions. They have been refined into a new system that shapes the environment and systems of the South Korean art world.

Around 30 members of the Seoul Performance Arts Company held a traditional Korean percussion parade from St. Mark’s Square to the Korean Pavilion in the Giardini to commemorate the opening of the Korean Pavilion, which was completed almost simultaneously with the exhibition opening after numerous twists and turns. South Korea’s Minister of Culture and Sports, Joo Don-sik, gave a brief speech, stating, “The Korean Pavilion will serve as a historic monument commemorating the 100th anniversary of the Venice Biennale and symbolizing a new encounter between East and West.” After speaking, he announced that he would sing a song, and proceeded to sing “Torna a Surriento (Come Back to Sorrento)”. In addition to the exhibition at the Korean Pavilion, the National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art organized a group exhibition titled Tiger’s Tail and featuring works from 15 mid-career South Korean artists. It served as a catalyst to imprint South Korean art in the minds of the international art world. MBC TV broadcast live from the site of the Venice Biennale for 90 minutes,7 and Wolgan Misul (Monthly Art Magazine) created a special reporting team that produced an extensive feature article spanning 84 pages. Due to the related media impact, the domestic interest and response were tremendous, and over a thousand South Koreans came to the biennale in June alone.

30 years have passed since the establishment of the Korean Pavilion in 1995. There are many pressing related issues, such as the aging of the structure and the need for expansion or renovation. The size of the Korean Pavilion has been criticized ever since its construction. Its site in the back between the German and Japanese pavilions and its relatively small exhibition space have inspired complaints such as it “looking like a restroom for the Japanese pavilion” or “not an appropriate structure for an exhibition hall.” However, we should remember the brilliant sparks of South Korean art that were ignited amidst this intersection of the efforts of many individuals, including Nam June Paik, to establish the Korean Pavilion and the interest of audiences from around the world who have visited the pavilion. As the last national pavilion within the Giardini, we have every reason to be proud.

Behind the Scenes: Designing the Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale

§Seok Chul Kim

This will be a long story. When Richard Rogers, architect of Centre Pompidou, invited us to Venice in June 1992, I knew little of the Venice Biennale. All hotels in Venice were fully booked. With the help of Rogers, I was able to stay at Hotel Cipriani, a hotel mentioned in Sidney Sheldon’s novel. It was also then that I learned about the international exhibition—that the first edition of the Venice Biennale took place in 1895 as an art exhibition, and cinema, theater, and architecture festivals were born later, with the four exhibitions and festivals taking place biannually at the Giardini for art and architecture exhibitions, the entire city of Venice for theater, and Lido for cinema. The Giardini, which was home to 25 national pavilions then, was crowded with architects from around the world. World-class architects like James Stirling, Norman Foster, Frank Gehry, Peter Eisenman, Arata Isozaki, and Rem Koolhaas were spotted around the park. There, I met Professor Kim Kyong Soo, and he introduced me to Professor Franco Mancuso from Università Iuav di Venezia (IUAV). Mancuso asked me to give a lecture and explained his plans to hold an exhibition on a contemporary South Korean architect at the Palazzo Ca’ Tron. He added that he wishes to stop by Seoul after delivering a lecture in Tokyo that was scheduled for two months later. He made it to Seoul and saw my work, and after discussion at a faculty meeting, it was decided that Seoul, Architecture and Cities will be held. After a year of preparations, the exhibition co-hosted by the City of Venice and the South Korean Ministry of Culture and Sports took place from February 25 to April 5, 1993. This was my fourth exhibition since my third one in 1975. Devoted assistance of Mancuso, Rinio Bruttomesso, and Kim Kyong Soo were critical in preparing and holding the exhibition.

Right around then, an art museum in Zagreb, the capital of Croatia, offered me a joint exhibition with Nam June Paik. I assumed the offer was made as a result of Paik keeping his word from when he visited the Seoul Arts Center, where he told me that I should make my debut on the international stage and that he would be happy to arrange something for me. The exhibition in Venice was scheduled from February to April, and the Mimara Museum in Zagreb suggested June for the invitational exhibition, so timing was perfect too. Given that the exhibition in Zagreb was a joint exhibition, I decided to show experimental works as well as Sky Village—Seoul Design Center, which I had been focused on. Back then, the Venice Biennale took place every year in June, so early summer was a time when all eyes of the European art scene were on the event. Thanks to Nam June Paik who won the Golden Lion Award as an invited artist at the German Pavilion that year, our exhibition at the Mimara Museum also came under the spotlight. After the exhibition opened, Yeongseon Jin, Professor Yongwoo Lee, and sculptor Cho Sung-mook also flew in from Seoul.

After the exhibition opened in Zagreb, Paik and I headed back to Venice. It was during this eight-hour trip when our story of the Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale began. There were only 25 national pavilions in the Giardini, and other countries were exhibiting their works in the Italian Pavilion and vacant wings at the Arsenale. 20 countries had submitted requests for national pavilions, but none had been granted approval. South Korea was among them, having submitted a request already years earlier, but the only answer received was that there is no room for another pavilion in the Giardini. On the evening Paik was announced the winner of the Golden Lion Award, the wives of distinguished conglomerate business owners in South Korea and members of the South Korean art circle proposed in one accord in Venice that the Korean Pavilion be constructed. Paik suggested that we work together to make our national pavilion a reality, since I am already familiar with the City of Venice, thanks to holding exhibitions and lectures by invitation from the City of Venice and IUAV, and also have connections with many architects.

▼ Seok Chul Kim’s Seoul, Architecture and Cities Exhibition Poster, 1993. ⓒSeok Chul Kim, Mancuso e Serena Architetti Associati. Courtesy of ARKO Arts Archive, Arts Council Korea.

We spent every night meeting with journalists and art museum representatives who had been waiting for Paik, and during the day, we looked around the pavilion site with Professor Mancuso and Professor Bruttomesso. Thanks to Bruttomesso, who was the director of the International Centre Cities on Water (Centro Internazionale Città d’Acqua), Venice, we were able to meet with a number of urban planning representatives from the Venice City Hall. I thought the Korean Pavilion may not be an entirely impossible project. I told Paik that we may have a chance, though not easy, and then returned to Seoul. Later, Paik had the opportunity to visit Seoul and meet with the then South Korean president Kim Young-sam. He brought up the idea of constructing the Korean Pavilion at the Venice Biennale in his conversation with the president, explaining that it will play a critical role in elevating the status of South Korean art globally. The president agreed with Paik and ordered the Minister of Culture and Sports to push ahead with it. Professor Yongwoo Lee provided a lot of information then. The project that had been discussed and propelled at the individual level had transformed into a government-level project. Director of the Venice Biennale Achille Bonito Oliva and Director of the Mudima Foundation Gino Di Maggio were invited to Seoul on the occasion of the opening of Expo 1993 Daejeon, and the South Korean government expressed its determination to build a national pavilion and requested their cooperation. Minister Lee Min-seop also hosted a luncheon at the Korea House, with Paik, Oliva, Di Maggio, Yongwoo Lee, Director General of Arts Kim Soon-gyu, and me in attendance.

Through the Italian interpreter who joined us, Oliva said, “It will probably be impossible. We are planning to set up a second exhibition space outside the Giardini, so let’s discuss the matter then.” Having expected this answer, we brought to the table a proposal we had prepared in advance. We proposed the construction of our national pavilion between the Japanese Pavilion, the German Pavilion, and the old administrative office, but at the underground level so as not to disrupt the existing buildings and vegetation. Upon hearing our idea, Oliva, who had been rather stubborn and had refused our drink offers, changed his attitude and said, “Cheers, let’s give it a shot. No such proposal has been made so far. I will do what I can. There are many countries in competition, so we must be careful not to disclose your idea.” We all had plenty of drinks that day.

We spent almost a month finalizing the proposal. First, we agreed to prepare some sketches and get in touch with the authorities of the City of Venice. We met with the Chairwoman of the City of Venice, Director General of Cultural Heritage Management, and Director General of Architecture and explained our idea. All were reluctant to hear our presentation at first, but after two to three days of persuasion, we were able to at least receive some positive feedback to have the project started, with them saying, “Let’s take it a step further. Come back to us with a model.” We also received confirmation that they would formally review our idea if an official proposal is submitted by the South Korean government. Upon returning to Seoul, I reported to the Minister of Culture and Sports that it is now time to begin inter-governmental discussions on the matter and also time for the South Korean government to make an official proposal. It was two winters ago (1993) that Director General of Arts Kim Soon-gyu delivered our Minister’s handwritten letter to the mayor of Venice and the director generals of all relevant departments and made the official proposal.

Continued reviews in Venice revealed that the idea of an underground pavilion will not be viable, as tree roots extended in all directions. The alternative we proposed then was a transparent pavilion. During a conversation with the Director General of Urban Planning who was pessimistic about our endeavors, I mentioned that I had prepared in Seoul another proposal for a transparent pavilion as a fallback and that I will present and explain the idea the following day. After turning that corner, I spent all night sketching the proposal for a transparent pavilion. It was decided that a mockup will be made, and then the official proposal will be submitted, and I asked Professor Mancuso to conduct an accurate analysis of the terrain at the proposed site. I got in touch with the Venetian authorities again after working on the proposal in Seoul for a month. Just when we had shifted from the idea of an underground pavilion to a transparent pavilion and began to see some progress in the discussions with the city authorities, everything seemed to go back to square one with Venice having to elect a new mayor. The election was extended because no candidate came out with a majority vote in the first round. By that point, I had almost given up. Everyone we had been in touch with also said it is time to wait. But I thought differently—we had to push on all the more when things seemed slow and impossible. I developed the proposal furthermore and expanded the logic of persuasion.

▼ Blueprint indicating the planned site for the Korean Pavilion, 1993. ⓒMancuso e Serena Architetti Associati. Courtesy of ARKO Arts Archive, Arts Council Korea.

I received a call from Nam June Paik in New York almost every day. “Don’t give up and go on. I will do whatever I can to help. Massimo Cacciari, who is likely to be elected, is with the Communist Party, which is concerning, but I have a plan. You have to keep working,” he said. After two months of the Venice mayor’s office being vacant, Cacciari was elected. Fortunately, Cacciari was a close friend with Bruttomesso. Paik sent a letter with a drawing to Cacciari. In the letter, he wrote something along the lines of “It’s an opportunity for you to be a Nobel Peace Prize laureate. The Giardini will celebrate its centenary next year, and if the only divided country in the world (South Korea and North Korea) with different ideologies participates to address the nuclear issue culturally, how significant and historical would it be?” Another letter with a drawing was sent to the rather critical Director General of Urban Planning. He happened to be a huge fan of Paik, so the letter played a significant role in turning the tide. But then, the head office of the Venice Biennale put the brakes on our project. People were saying that it would make more sense for the last national pavilion in the Giardini to be the Chinese Pavilion. China happened to be preparing a major exhibition on the Mausoleum of Qin Shi Huang (the first Qin emperor) in Venice then, so we also thought they had a point, that China may be prioritized in being granted the last pavilion in the Giardini.

That is when we made our final proposal. The first was “to go underground,” next was “to be transparent,” then the last was “to be visionary.” For this last proposal, I took a new look at the history of the Venice Biennale and the history of the city itself. The Giardini was a park with many issues to address. It was commissioned by Napoleon, and since becoming home to the international art exhibition, the park only opened for three months every two years. That meant that it remained abandoned most of the time, so the park itself entailed a great challenge for the city authorities. Before explaining our proposal for the construction of the Korean Pavilion, we planned to present a reform plan for the entire Giardini and wanted to show that the construction and opening of the Korean Pavilion would mark a new beginning for the park itself.

“This historic site of international contemporary art that will celebrate its 100th anniversary is walking the path of its fall. It needs to be born again on the occasion of its centenary. The first step for that is to open the Giardini year-round as an outdoor exhibition space and build a last pavilion that will serve as a permanent exhibition space to manage the entire park. Step two is to convert the Italian Pavilion into a permanent exhibition space and lead the transformation of each national pavilion into permanent exhibition spaces. If these two steps are carried out successfully, the Giardini will become a top art museum complex in the world, and the expansion of central Venice that spans the areas of Rialto, San Marco, and Giardini will be finally realized after centuries of stagnation. If built, the Korean Pavilion will be the ‘last pavilion’ in the Giardini in its centenary year, and it will also be the first pavilion that marks the beginning of the park’s new century.” We gave our everything to communicate our plan. I noticed a sign of agreement from the mayor who was once a professor of the philosophy of history at IUAV. He responded, “I will review the proposal in depth. Many countries have applied for national pavilions, so the matter must be handled fairly. It has not been long since I was elected, so I must speak with the relevant officers. Your proposal is very appealing, so I am deeply interested. Let’s meet again with a thorough plan.” You have a feeling for these things—conversations and connections between people. I said I would return in a month and headed back to Seoul.

It was now time to put together a detailed blueprint and a mockup. If the introduction stage drags on too long, progress takes longer, so we must push aggressively. I decided to drive the project at our pace instead of their tempo. I also added a touch of uniqueness to the mockup this time. I constructed it with lead and purposely did not use glass to emphasize transparency. I met again with the mayor of Venice, this time with a mockup and a blueprint. I could tell that he was fond of us. Paik’s letter with a hand-drawn image and our proposal to revive the Giardini seemed to have moved him. He agreed in principle to turn the Italian Pavilion into a permanent exhibition space and make our building the first national pavilion with the transformation of the Giardini into an open-air museum. I met again with the Director General of Urban Planning, Director General of Architecture, and Director General of Cultural Heritage Management and explained the results of my discussion with the mayor.

▼ Seok Chul Kim and Franco Mancuso presenting the model of the Korean Pavilion, 1994 ⓒMancuso e Serena Architetti Associati. Courtesy of ARKO Arts Archive, Arts Council Korea.

The mayor also asked us to submit a detailed plan on the operation of the pavilion. It looked like we were going to make some meaningful progress. Upon returning to Seoul, I reported back to the minister, advised that an official proposal from the government is needed given that we will see some substantial progress, and proposed that we work with Professor Mancuso who can partake in the project as the local architect. I anticipated him to be a great partner, as he was a professor of urban planning. In the basic plan for the Korean Pavilion, we included hopes for the building’s harmonious integration with the grounds for the urban planning of Venice and the city’s architectural cultural heritage. Minister Lee Min-seop Lee invited Professor Mancuso to Seoul to request his cooperation as the local architect and explain the South Korean government’s position. We asked him to work on adjusting our proposal, so it works with the land conditions of the intended site for the pavilion. Mancuso came to my office and worked with my team for three days. Mancuso is also the author of books about the city of Venice, so his comments were extremely helpful. According to our plan, the entrance to the Korean Pavilion would be placed in the same direction as the Japanese Pavilion, so we decided to straighten out the end of the curved wall, adjust the curved wall so that it veers around the existing trees, and expand the cylindrical space that would sit between the former management building and the German Pavilion. The decision to place the double cylinder structure next to the existing building gave satisfactory results. We had to work with the condition of leaving the trees untouched, which meant that our original proposal had to be modified, but the modification added better developments too. It was a process of what Mayor Cacciari called “a spaceship” designed in Seoul, culturally setting its base among the trees and existing pavilions in the Giardini.

In April 1994, an official request for approval was submitted by the South Korean government to the City of Venice. The submission came after five visits to Venice over the course of ten months since the inception of the Korean Pavilion after a conversation with Nam June Paik. I expected everything to sail smoothly now. But that was far from the case. There were hurdles everywhere. That was the second time I wanted to give up. I got in touch with everyone I could around me. China came up again, Japan voiced its desire to enlarge their national pavilion, and we began to hear that the plan for the Korean Pavilion cannot be approved because the master plan for the Giardini and other public parks in the vicinity was incomplete. Letting go meant no achievement. Everyone was going to say a word, and saying something that would halt or upend the project is always easy. I was reminded of Louis Kahn’s project for the Venice Congress Centre at the public park next to the Giardini that fell through even with a complete sketch as well as the Venice Hospital project, the last project by Le Corbusier, that was not approved. If the request for approval had not been submitted, I could say it was an unsuccessful personal endeavor and back out, but the reality was that I was in a cave with no retreat, meaning that I had to dig my way out.

I met with the mayor again. “Nothing can be done if we take everything into consideration. The Korean Pavilion is not just a single national pavilion, but the first pavilion to mark the centenary of the Venice Biennale. It will not be an ordinary pavilion that remains open for just two months in a year, but one that will stay open all year and awaken the Giardini. We embarked on this project with hopes that the pavilion will serve as the bridgehead of South Korea and Italy’s historical cultural exchange. The Giardini is in a district with an undecided urban plan, so if the condition is that we have to agree to move the pavilion along with other national pavilions according to a new urban plan once one is developed, so be it. What we are trying to do is to be a part of the 100-year-old historical entity. We need you to make the call.” The mayor chuckled and said, “I’ll step in and do what I can.” Thinking that I had to seal the deal, I asked, “Our minister wishes to come in person and confirm the approval. Could this work?” The mayor’s answer was positive. I had to settle the deal, so I immediately flew back to Seoul and spoke to the minister. The minister also agreed, so we arranged a meeting with the mayor of Venice. I had pushed aside all the work I had to do at the Korea National University of Arts and became deeply involved in the Venice project. At this point, my ambition to erect a building of my design among the works of world-class architects and artists was no longer the drive: Rather, all that was left was the sense of responsibility as a professional, that I have to receive the approval for the Korean Pavilion. As we were preparing to leave, news broke that North Korean leader Kim Il Sung passed, so it was decided that Vice Minister Kim Do-hyeon would travel to Venice in lieu of the minister. The day before departure, I gave a briefing on the progress of the project. Most of the preparations were done, but I was still concerned. Director General of Arts Kim Soon-gyu had left for the United States, so Director General Jeong Mun-kyu took his place. Director Lee Don-jong accompanied the vice minister, and the South Korean Ambassador to Italy, and a public information officer joined us in Venice. The ambassador spoke pessimistically about the project: “It takes months to get approval to cut down a single tree in the grounds of the embassy. Building a national pavilion is something many countries have been trying to get done for years, so pushing ahead like this does not mean that we will get what we want.” He was saying we were too hasty. But in my mind, I thought that work will be done if one is willing, and it will not be done if one is not. Arrangements that had to be made before the meeting between the vice minister and Mayor Cacciari had been handled in advance with the help of Professor Bruttomesso, but I was still worried.

The vice minister started by expressing gratitude. He shared that Mayor Cacciari sent letters to all relevant authorities requesting their positive reviews and cooperation on the matter of the Korean Pavilion. He also communicated that the South Korean government considers the Korean Pavilion as a symbolic project that will secure Korea’s cultural bridgehead in Europe and also a representative project of New Korea that supports internationalization. When Cacciari first began by saying that our proposed site is a place where granting approval is impossible, especially because there is competition between many countries for a national pavilion, we were greatly disconcerted. However, he went on to add, “Yet, the unflagging enthusiasm and constant flux of alternative proposals made by the South Korean authorities made what was impossible possible. It is a small miracle. We anticipate that this will mark the start of substantial exchange between Italy and South Korea and also hope to see a new beginning of the Giardini for the first time in one hundred years. We highly praise all the ideas put forth for the Korean Pavilion.” The vice minister looked for confirmation again: “Everyone is waiting for the final verdict on this proposal. Many great challenges remain ahead of us, such as reaching agreements with multiple entities, but would it be safe for us to put out a press release that the approval for the Korean Pavilion is expected?” To this, the mayor answered, “Yes. It will take some time, but half the members of all committees are affiliated with the city government. I will take care of it.” The South Korean ambassador was still concerned. In any case, a year’s work had finally made a step forward. We celebrated, drinking 60% alcohol by volume baijiu late into the night. It was a night when the canal and land seemed to tremble together.

The following day, everyone returned to Seoul, and I headed to New York again. I had planned to visit the Glass House designed by Philip Johnson, and given the timing, I thought it would be a great learning opportunity. Visiting the Glass House was seeing a classic model of a transparent house, but I was at a point where I should not be swayed by someone else’s work. There was no need for me to compare my work to another’s. One who truly has what he needs should be able to learn far more from another’s work than be swayed. Standing before the magnificent architectural work, I felt slightly helpless. But my building is essentially different from Johnson’s, and I thought that my architecture had its unique form of expression that is deeply rooted in Korean culture as well as the cities and architecture of South Korea. As an architect of a civilized nation with a long history, I must try and let the understanding of a new civilization expand its expression. I had to go back to South Korea and get my hands on producing working drawings. What existed merely in sketch had to be embodied through steel frames, timber, and glass. The new building that would be born from the combination of the old existing building, corresponding cylindrical abstract space, and the transparent space between the trees must be expressed in dramatic architectural language.

When the news was published by some South Korean newspapers, many people I had never met or known started to approach me from all places. I was very cautious as the final seal had not been set on paper. Many faxes were exchanged between Seoul and Venice. It was hard for both parties, as the easygoing and leisurely manner of Italians and the diligent yet hasty character of South Koreans had to come together in unison for the project. We still had ahead of us the final review by the Deliberation Committee, which consisted of seven representatives from the city government, regional government, and other various sectors. In spite of the mayor’s letter requesting cooperation, two of the seven members of the committee wanted to defer the case, while another was in support of China. Now it was a matter of who gives more thought to the work, even at night. We did all we could, so if the project fell through, that would be all. I pulled all the strings I could, from Milan and Rome to New York. It was like I had turned on the shower of connections. Then one day, the final presentation meeting was held and a positive conclusion was drawn. Still, nothing had been signed.

Finally, I headed to Venice for one last time. I was accompanied by Director General of Arts Lee Ung-ho, Professor Kim Kyong Soo who had been helpful all along, and Director of Overseas Projects Lee Sang-yong of the Korean Culture and Arts Foundation, the organization that would own the pavilion. We headed to Venice with all the materials needed to be granted the final approval. I was determined to receive the approval this time. We met with the Director General of Cultural Affairs, Secretary General of the Venice Biennale Raffaello Martelli, and other stakeholders to explain our plans about the operation of the Korean Pavilion. But they were talking about what would happen once the building is complete. We were taking the most difficult path to have construction approval in Europe. Professor Kim was under the weather with body aches. We got together every night for meetings, and during the day, we visited multiple departments of the city government scattered around Venice. To meet with Martelli, we went all the way to Lido, where the film festival was taking place.

▼ Left, Right: Photograph of Seok Chul Kim visiting the construction site of the Korean Pavilion, 1995 (presumably). Courtesy of ARKO Arts Archive, Arts Council Korea. Photo by CJYART STUDIO Junyong Cho.