ARTIST’S NOTE | 5
The Silence of Form, The Inevitable Irony of Language
2015-2025
: On the Gate that Confines and Reopens the World of Senses
I often encounter a unfamiliar sense of disparity when standing before my work. The schemata of Blue, Yellow, and Red realized on the canvas are complete universes in themselves, existing in a realm of intuition that requires no explanation. However, the moment I stand in the exhibition hall, or the moment I begin to write my artist notes, I must inevitably put on the clothes of ‘language.’ I created images to transcend the limits of language, yet to convey them to others, I must walk back into its confinement. This is a rather severe and peculiar irony given to an artist.
As in the view of Maurice Merleau-Ponty, our perception is complexly intertwined with the world, and language is the tool that visualizes that entanglement. My 'language' should not be a frame that defines the work, but an 'invitation' that helps the viewer walk into my schemata. To approach first with visual impact, to hold that impact with linguistic thought, and finally to lead to a resonance of silence that makes one forget language again—this is precisely what my Schematic Medium aims for.
I often encounter a unfamiliar sense of disparity when standing before my work. The schemata of Blue, Yellow, and Red realized on the canvas are complete universes in themselves, existing in a realm of intuition that requires no explanation. However, the moment I stand in the exhibition hall, or the moment I begin to write my artist notes, I must inevitably put on the clothes of ‘language.’ I created images to transcend the limits of language, yet to convey them to others, I must walk back into its confinement. This is a rather severe and peculiar irony given to an artist.
Ludwig Wittgenstein stated, "The limits of my language mean the limits of my world." However, for me as an artist, this proposition is half true and half false. My world is far vaster than language, but for it to operate as ‘valid meaning’ within the perception of others, it must pass through the narrow gate of language. Here, an intriguing cycle of art occurs. Art first strikes the viewer's vision with raw emotion. Yet, for that sensation not to evaporate but to settle as a form of 'thought,' the intervention of rational judgment and learning—that is, language—is essential. Sensation filtered through language finally evolves into a deeper, more solid layer of emotion. Logos does not kill Pathos; paradoxically, it 'upgrades' it.
My work, BYR Organic Schemata, also lies upon this cyclical structure. Through the most fundamental symbols—the Square (Blue), the Equilateral Triangle (Yellow), and the Circle (Red)—I speak of the essence of humans, nature, and the cosmos. These are languages before language, universal visual archetypes. When I discuss 'existential imperfection' or the 'reconstruction of causality,' I actually desire these metaphysical concepts to be conveyed not through definitions in text, but solely through color, form, and resonance within space.
However, neither the Viewer nor the Artist is free from language. Language is, after all, a tool that allows us to endure an imperfect world. The moment I attempt to explain my work, the solid 'Blue' becomes trapped in the word 'Human,' the dynamic vitality of 'Yellow' halts under the noun 'Nature,' and the infinite universe of 'Red' is reduced to the text 'Cosmos.' This is a clear reduction and distortion. Yet, I willingly perform this uncomfortable process. Because that imperfect language is the only bridge connecting me to others, connecting the world.
As in the view of Maurice Merleau-Ponty, our perception is complexly intertwined with the world, and language is the tool that visualizes that entanglement. My 'language' should not be a frame that defines the work, but an 'invitation' that helps the viewer walk into my schemata. To approach first with visual impact, to hold that impact with linguistic thought, and finally to lead to a resonance of silence that makes one forget language again—this is precisely what my Schematic Medium aims for.
In the end, even if art is about 'seeing,' we come to 'see' properly again through the act of 'reading.' I no longer consider this ironic cycle a contradiction. Rather, it is a state where intuition and wisdom support each other to achieve perfect balance. Being wary of the constraints of language while willingly using them as stepping stones to expand the senses.
That is the reason I construct forms and, simultaneously, reconstruct language. Because the complete world of art opens up only when the intuition of the image and the thought of language become fully one.