YeonTak Chang

The Silent Echo, the Locus of Yeon-Tak Chang’s Arting

By Kil-Young Yoo

Silence, absence of sound that is attended while it is voided.

Knowledge has no end. Life has an end. To chase/pursue knowledge, which has no end, with life, which has an end, is dangerous.1

but

Man pursues black on white.2

“Arting3” is Yeon-Tak Chang’s endless questioning about his spiritual identity and endless pursuing of the truth occurring in the labour (both mental and physical) of his sculpting. The question and pursuit is his spiritual locus of arting that is the locus of labouring where he kneads with earth and carves with stone.

The direct contact with the stone, as I carve a design, becomes the transitory moment into a continual voyage in unknown space releasing my inner vision.4

The continuous voyage in unknown space seems to me the unknown desire to journey to an unknown destiny that he consciously follows. Perhaps the continuous voyage in unknown space is an endless journey attempting to listen to the silent echo of his spiritual identity.
Chang said in a recent conversation:

I experience the attempt while carving a stone or kneading clay. Carving the stone to make a sculpture is an endless journey to seek my spiritual identity through endless labouring even though I wonder whether it is my destiny; then I imagine, Sisyphus ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of a mountain, whence the stone would fall back of its own weight, but the difference between Sisyphus and I is that I am forming my destiny through my labouring, the unknown desire for questioning and seeking my spiritual journey.

Here he suggests that carving the stone through his labouring reveals the state of his arting that is an unknown desire to journey to a mysterious destination for grasping his spiritual identity.

… the world’s worlding cannot be explained by anything else nor can it be fathomed through anything else. This impossibility does not lie in the inability of our human thinking to explain and fathom in this way. Rather, the inexplicable and unfathomable character of the world’s worlding lies in this, that causes and grounds remain unsuitable for the world’s worlding. As soon as human cognition here calls for an explanation, it fails to transcend the world’s nature, and falls short of it. The human will to explain just does not reach to the simpleness of the simple onefold of worlding.5

Then, can’t we explain (the simpleness of the simple) “the unknown desire for questioning and seeking”? Mallarme may help us understand human nature when he states this:

Man pursues black on white.

Stonework No. 1 - 1978

What Yeon-Tak Chang seems to be interested in and what his arting provokes is to pursue the primordial of pure visual thinking that exists before (or out of) verbal language. The pursuit of the primordial and pure visual world is equally as important as an act of being that occurs in everyday life. This pursuit is based on the primordial image and is a struggle that excludes conceptual speculation. The struggle is expressed and appears as an act of labouring, with the stone and clay as his chosen mediums. The endless act of labouring could let him carve until he gets the smallest particle of the stone which could be smaller than the tip of a chisel. At a certain point he leaves the sculpture as a trace of the primordiality accompanying the pure visual thinking.

The trace leaves a shape which does not resemble anything in the world which appears in front of us, however, the audience can feel the images of wave, wind and an impression of flowing, soaring and growing. What we are confronted with in this situation is the recognition of the existence of the pure visual thinking. The sculptor’s endless act of labouring, as the primordiality of the pure visual thinking, is suggested in his untitled works. He
has no need to close his work off, rather his labour has no limit to possibility.

In a recent conversation with Chang, I discovered that his visual thinking originated in his intuition.

I usually approach carving stone directly without having a sketch or a model for a work. It can be said that I start to carve without any preliminary thought, but it is not to say that I start to a stone with nothing thought out. It is to say that I approach sculpting while emptying myself. It is not to be explicable rationally, but it is certainly understandable; something that comes from my intuition.

These aspects suggest that the purity of the visual thinking as primordiality in his act of arting exists in intuition. Then we could imagine that he could have imagined to make sculpture without labour. But his questing is due to his choice of vocation as a sculptor and from his unknown desire in sculpting as a means of seeking his spiritual identity. The sculpting requires labour. It is important to recognize his will to sculpt. This is another aspect which Chang, the artist, does not need to explicate. It may be called the nature or symptom of his being which, I think, exists with his spiritual identity.

The carving [labouring] is, for me, both an impulsive motion [intuitive act] and a restful peace [freedom]. The restless repetition of the motion is enchanting and helps me discover a mysterious world leading to a spiritual identity.6

The mysterious world here is the trace that he leaves according to his will. What is left is the intuitive vision that is clarified in the dialogue between two ancient Chinese philosophers:

Chuang Tzu and Hui Tzu were strolling along the dam of the Hao River when Chuang Tzu said, “See how the minnows come out and dart around where they please! That’s what fish really enjoy!” Hui Tzu said, “You are not a fish – how do you know what fish enjoy?” Chuang Tzu said, “You’re not I, so how do you know I don’t know what fish enjoy?” Hui Tzu said, “I’m not you, so I certainly don’t know what you know. On the other hand, you’re certainly not a fish – so that still proves you don’t know that fish enjoy!” Chuang Tzu said, “Let’s go back to your original question, please. You asked me how I know what fish enjoy – so you already knew it when you asked the question. I know it by standing here beside the Hao.7

Here Chuang Tzu’s intuition, an imagination, exists before speech. The imagination embraces the intuition which is the creative thinking process. This process is embodied by the intuitive reason and intuitive desire in the thinking process-labour. This embodiment occurs in Yeon-Tak Chang’s arting.

The irony; also the essence, of Chang’s arting is that he attempts to grasp his spiritual identity in the metaphysical state that is invisible, inaudible and unfathomable through the physical state of carving stone and kneading clay which are visible, touchable materials. According to Chang Tzu, Yeon-Tak Chang is in danger because the artist seeks his spiritual identity in the immeasurable through the use of stone and clay; the measurable. Knowledge has no end.

Life has an end. To chase/pursue knowledge, which has no end, with life, which has an end, is dangerous.8 In pursuing this danger, Yeon-Tak Chang aspires to that supreme goal that is the fusion of his intuitive reason with his willful desire. This Fusion is his spiritual identity.

The locus of Yeon-Tak Chang’s arting lies in his freedom and will to voyage into unknown space. This act of labouring in resolving this pure visual thinking is the ‘silent echo’ that he endlessly attempts to grasp.

Endnotes

1. Chuang-Tzu. Chuang-Tzu and Lao-Tzu, trans. Suk-ho Lee, Sam Sung Press, Seoul, 1976, pp9
2. Stephane Mallarme, in Jonathan Culler’s Structuralist Poetics: Structuralism, Linguistics, and the Study of Literature, Cornell University Press, New York, 1975, pp189
3. The author, proposed the use of the word “art” (a noun) as a verb at a panel discussion In Toronto on 18 February 1995, and at a symposium in Sydney (at Goethe-Institute). Australia 23 February 1995 
4. Yeon-Tak Chang, from the interview with Anne Tyler, The Independent, Minnesota, USA (October 1983)
5. Martin Heidegger. Poetry, Language, Thought, trans. Albert Hofstadter, Harper & Row Publishers, New York, 1971 , pp 179-180 
6. Yeon-Tak Chang, from the interview with Anne Tyler, The Independent, Minnesota, USA (October 1983) 
7. Chuang Tzu. CHUANG TZU: Basic Writings, trans. Burton Watson. Columbia University Press, New York and London, 1964, pp110 
8. See footnote 1

Kil-young Yoo is an artist and independent curator living in Toronto.

Yeon-Tak Chang

자서전
MOONLGHT | Carrara marble (15”X7”X11”)
세상, 그 궁금한 곳

한국의 경기도 화성은 나의 고향이다. 지금은 수차례에 걸친 개발로 깔끔한 도시의 모습을 갖추고 있지만 내가 유년기와 청년기를 보낼 때만 해도 여느 깡촌의 모습과 다르지 않았다. 가뜩이나 6.25라는 한국전쟁을 치룬 사람들은 생사가 오가는 난리통에도 살아 숨쉬고 있다는 것으로도 감사한 시절이었다.

하지만 나는 생존에 대한 막연함과 불안함에 떠는 사람들 속에서 ‘이 곳이 아닌 저 먼 곳’을 향해 어딘가로 향하고픈 막연한 동경을 안고 성장해갔다. 이 좁은 화성을 벗어나 서울로 그리고 대한민국을 떠나 미지의 세계로 나아가고자 하던 열망은 세계 지도를 완벽하게 외우는 아이로 만들었다. 지리학에 대한 학문적인 관심이라기보다 더 멀고 더 광활한 세계는 어떤 모습일까 하는 궁금증과 호기심은 “언젠가 저 먼 세상으로 걸어가 보자”하는 열망을 내 마음에 심었다.

아마도 그 때부터 내게는 이탈리아의 탐험가 크리스토퍼 콜럼버스(Columbus Christopher)가 가진 상상과 열정이 본성 깊이 있었던 것 같다. 하지만 그 당시에 해외를 나가 자기의 꿈을 펼친다는 것은 현재 우주여행을 가는 것처럼 상상 속의 것이었다 그러니 막연한 동경은 꿈으로 남겨두고 현실에 안주하며 지리학을 가르치는 선생님이 되자는 미래의 목표만 세웠다. 가뜩이나 어머니와 누나, 어린 나를 두고 일찍이 하늘나라로 간 아버지를 대신할 장남이기도 했으니 말이다.

의자가 내게 알려준 길

중학교 미술 수업시간, 교탁에는 의자가 덩그라니 놓여 있었다. 같은 반 친구들은 그 익숙한 물체에 초집중하며 그 실체를 스케치북에 그리는 일에 몰두했다. 나도 여느 친구들처럼 의자를 묘사했다. 아무것도 없는 무색의 스케치북에 저 앞에 놓인 의자가 내 손 끝에서 그대로 옮겨지고 있었다. 그때 부터 였을까. 물리적인 움직임이 없이도 사물이 공간을 이동해 전혀 다른 스케치북에 옮겨진다는 것을 안 것이. 이는 마치 무에서 유를 창조한다는 것이고 공간이동을 쉽게 할 수 있다는 것을 알려준 순간이었다.

“이런 것이 창작인가?”

묘한 발견에 설레고 있을 때, 선생님은 내 그림에 감탄했다. 대단한 묘사력이고 구성력이라고 아낌없는 칭찬을 해주었다. 나조차도 전혀 인식하지 못했는데 선생님을 통해 나는 내가 아주 섬세하고 디테일하며 구성력이 좋은 재능을 갖고 있구나 알게 된 순간이었다. 물론, 그 당시에는 아티스트가 되어야 겠다, 조각가가 되어야겠다는 생각은 전혀 없었다. 그 쪽의 세계는 어떤 것인지 알 수도 없고 그게 무엇을 하는 것인지 깨닫지도 못했다.

상운(祥雲) | 12cmX25cmX20cm
마스크 그룹 28
살면서 만나는 기적, 소울메이트

우리가 살아가며 만나는 기적은 진정한 인연을 만났을 때다. 휘문고교 재학 당시 사범대학을 목표로 공부에 매진하고 있었다. 당시 고등학교 미술반 선생님으로 고 권영우 선생님이 계셨지만 늘 존경하고 그 분의 성품이 내게 큰 영향을 미쳤음에도 나는 미술에 대한 관심이 별로 없었다. 서클 활동도 밴드부를 선택해서 트롬본을 연주했지만 미술이라는 운명적 만남이 갖기 전이었다. 단지, 미술시간에 만지는 흙을 이용한 조소에 재미를 느꼈지만 나를 아티스트로 유혹하는데는 미약한 것이었다.
그런데 우연한 계기를 통해 첫 만남부터 소울메이트라고 느껴질만큼 전율을 선사한 친구가 내 앞에 나타났다. 내 인생을 통틀어 ‘이런 친구를 만난 건 정말 행운이었다!’라고 말할 만큼.
내 인생길에 나의 나침판이 되어주고 나에게 용기를 주고 내 재능과 내 역량을 단번에 찾아준 나의 친구, 강광식.

강광식 그 친구는 서울예술고등학교 3학년으로 서영화를 공부하며 미대를 준비하고 있었다.
고등학교 3학년 대학 입시를 앞둔 그 때 그와의 만남은 나를 예술 세계에 눈을 뜨게했고 미술이라는 광활한 세계에 첫 발을 딛게 했다.
“미술대학을 가면 어때?”
그 한마디가 내 인생의 나침판이 될 줄은 몰랐다.
“내가 무슨 미술을 해? 단 한 번도 생각해본 적이 없는데.”
“너니까 해야 하는 거야. 이건 운명 같은 거야. 넌 지금부터 해도 충분히 해낼 수 있어. 나 믿고 한번만 도전해봐. 네 손재주라면 충분히 서울대 합격할 수 있어.”
친구의 뜬금없는 제안과 달콤한 칭찬과 지지는 나를 흥분하게 만들었다. 그리고 나도 모르게 유전적으로 닮아버린 아버지의 섬세한 손재주를 믿고 나는 과감하게 내 꿈을 바꿨다. 그 선택의 결과는 아쉽게도 첫 입시에서 불합격이라는 결론을 내고 말았다. 그렇게 나는 재수를 선택하며 미술대학을 향해 공부했고 동년배보다 1년이 늦게 서울대학교 조소과에 합격을 했다.
지금와서 생각해도 너무 재미있는 일이었다. 정말 우연하게 알게 된 친구를 통해 성인 될 때까지 단 한 번도 생각해보지 않은 길에 들어서다니. 가뜩이나 타고난 재능과 뼈 속 깊이 예술가 정신이 있는 자만이 갈 수 있는 아티스트의 길에 발이 드릴 줄 몰랐다.
‘친구 따라 강남간다’는 그 당시 유행처럼 나는 내 평생의 길을 찾게 되었다.
가끔 생각해본다. 정말 나는 이 친구를 만나지 않았다면 조각가로 한 평생을 살 수 있었을까?
이 친구의 추천과 조언이 없었다면 나는 정말 무엇이 되어 있었을까 말이다. 그러나 나는 지금 행복하다. 작업하는 순간이 행복하고 내가 조각가로 살아온 삶이 행복하다. 날 때부터 가진 천재적 재능과 누구나 알아보는 실력은 없었지만 내 안에 있는 나의 소질과 잠재력을 찾아준 그 친구에게 감사를 전한다.
“자네는 내 영원한 소울메이트며 내 삶의 길을 여는 등대였다네. 단 한 번도 나를 왜 이 길로 이끌었냐고 원망한 적이 없었네. 힘들고 지치고 절망해도 나는 정말 내 길 위에서 즐거운 여행을 했다네.”
작품을 하며 돈 걱정도 했고 세 아이를 낳아 기르며 두렵기도 했었다. 여느 아버지처럼 돈을 잘벌고 출세를 하고 내 삶을 즐길 여유없이 늘 작업실에 쳐박혀 고민했고 작업했고 혼자 울기도 했지만 작업의 과정은 꽃밭이었다. 핀 꽃도 지는 꽃도 있었고 누구나 아는 꽃도 이름 모를 꽃도 핀 길에서 내가 지치지 않고 걸을 수 있었던 것은 역시 돌을 다듬을 수 있는 열정이었다.

혜화동의 봄

혜화동은 아름다웠다. 봄이 오면 들떴고, 여름이 오면 불탔고, 가을이 오면 진지했고, 겨울이 오면 따듯하려 했다. 대학의 낭만은 그렇게 사계절을 넘어가며 무르익었고 젊은 미술인들의 삶과 사랑, 고뇌라는 철학적 깊이를 쌓아가며 우리는 자신들의 예술 세계를 굳혀나갔다. 나는 대학에 들어가서 여느 학생들처럼 말술도 마시고 청춘답게 즐길 때도 있었지만 김세중 교수님 밑에서 어시스트 역할을 충실히 했다.
워낙 교수님께서 큰 작업들을 많이 하셨기에 일손은 늘 부족했다. 그래서 집중하면 완전히 몰두하는 내 성격을 아시고 많은 작업들에 참여하도록 내게도 기회를 주셨다.
제 2 한강교 UN 자유수호 기념탑 모형, 공화당의 황소 등 역사에 남을 작품을 보조하고 나는 실력을 키워나갔다.
그 당시에 베트남에서 월남 전쟁이 발발했고 한국 전쟁을 겪은 우리는 동요되었고 많은 젊은이들이 전쟁에 참가했다. 나는 그 때 월남 전쟁에 나간 청룡부대의 청룡 모형 제작을 하게 돼었다.

Together - Marble (9" x 7" x 14.5")
TOGETHER | Marble (9" x 7" x 14.5")
여신강림, 너는 내 운명

대학동창인 조재구와는 같은 조소과에 다니며 친분이 두터웠다. 서로의 작품과 작가로서 살아갈 삶의 지향점이 같았다고 할까. 그런 그와 친하게 지내다보니 김포 고촌에 있는 그의 집에 방문할 기회가 생겼다. 아무래도 내 고향의 모습과 그 곳이 비슷하다보니 집도 정감이 가고 따듯하게 나를 반기는 그 친구의 가족도 혼자 서울에서 유학하는 내게 안정감과 편안함을 주었다.
지금와서 생각해보면 나는 내 친구의 여동생을 보는 순간부터 내 평생의 반려자임을 직관적으로 알았던 것 같다. 저 여인이라면 기껏이 내가 가자고 하는 길에 손을 잡아줄 것 같았고 내가 하는 작업을 묵묵하게 바라볼 것 같았다. 그런 나의 예감은 맞았다. 지난 50 여 년을 한국을 떠나 캐나다로 그리고 이탈리아로 타지를 다니며 조각가의 아내로 살아온 사람.
온갖 굳은 일도 마다하지 않았고 아무리 힘이 들어도 내가 하는 작업을 존중해준 나의 유일한 단짝. 내조는 물론 외조까지도 완벽해게 해줬던 사람이다. 알레르기와 온갖 스트레스로 멕시코로 떠날 때도 이탈리아로 공부하러 갈 때도 아내의 지지가 없었다면 난 그런 귀한 경험들을 하지 못했을 것이다.

아마도 나에게 “조재숙”이라는 긍정 마인드의 야무찬 여인이 없었다면 나는 이토록 내 작업에 몰두할 수 없었을 것이다. 부부라는 인연으로 맺어져서 수많은 파도를 넘고 산의 오르막과 내리막에서도 나의 손을 놓지 않고 나를 끌어준 아내에게 ‘당신이 있어 이번 생은 완벽한 성공이다’ 말하고 싶다.

장연탁 조각 전시회

육체적 노동의 양에 따르면 교향악단에서 누가 가장 많이 받아야할까? 바이올린 연주가? 탐파니 주자 혹은 지휘자? 회화, 판화, 건축, 조각등 미술의 쟝느에 이러한 유머를 적용하면, 조각가야 말로 노동에 대해 가장 적은 임금을 받고 있지 않는가 싶다. 톱으로 돌을 짜르고, 망치와 끌로 쪼아대고 그리고 경우에 따라 샌드페이퍼로 표면을 거울처럼 만들려면 조각이야말로 노동집약적 작업이라 하겠다. 그래서 나는 조각 작품 앞에서 연속적인 망치질과 샌딩 작업의 리듬을 들어 보고 조각가의 숨소리와 땀냄새를 맡아 보려고 한다. 조각 작업에 이러한 경애심은 조각가와 감정이입을 경험하게 해준다.

     카나다 조각가 협회 합동전시회에 토론토 거주 장연탁 조각가는 Elapse (시간의 흐름)이라는 제목으로 12점을 출품하였다. 개인전이라고 하겠다. 서울대학교 미대 조각과를 졸업한 후 조각가로, 카나다 미술대학에 성인 학생으로 재적할 때 제작한 (10 Stonework No. 1)로 부터 최근 작 (Torso)등 을 전시하여 한 노 조각가의 일생의 조각 여정을 보여 줄 것이다.

구도 (Composition)

 이번 전시회에는 역삼각형 구도의 작품들이 반을 차지하고 있다.  이번 전시회 뿐 아니라 그가 제작한 모든 작품에서도 이러한 비율을 보임을 기억할 일이다. 돌이란 그 무게에 의해 “안정성”과 “영구성”을 상징한다. 따라서 사각형이나 피라미드의 구도는 이상할 것이 없다. 그러면 역삼각형의 구도를 택한 이유는 무엇일까? 역삼각형의 구도는 움직임의 느낌을 준다. 카달로그 에세이에서 언급한 대로, 그가 만들어 날렸을 연중에 다이야몬드형의 오징어 연은 땅에서는 서 있을 수 없으나, 공중으로 나라 올라 (움직임) 안정과 자유를 획득함을 본다. 그러고 보면 연처럼 공기나 물에서 유영하는 새 (작품 Bird from Rousina)나 물고기는 역삼각형이다. 역삼각형은 삼각형이 주는 안정감에 (1) 저항하거나 (2) 이를 기억함으로써 불안정을 통해서 안정을 보여 주고 있는 것이다.

작품들

     Moonlight는 부드러워진 역삼각형의 구도이다. 작가의 제목에 따라보면 관람객은 구름을 헤치고 나오는 달을 찾을 수 있을 것이다. 작품의 대부분을 차지하는 구름은 작가의 치밀한 표면 구분과 정교한 테크닉으로 무겁지 않고 완성감은 보여 주고 있다. 어떤 분들은 달 대신에 어린 아이를 보고, 구름 대신에 애기 포대기를 상상하기도 하고; 혹은 누에 고치를 생각할 수도 있으리라. 달이던, 갓난 아이이던, 누에고치이던 새로운 순환 — 삶의 시작을 보여준다. (Bird from Rousina 와 비교. Cf. Journey I and Journey II, Return). 이는 모두 시간의 함수이다 (Elapse).

   “Torso”는 대각선이 위 아래를 1대2의 비율로으로 나누고, 그 경계에 섬세한 주름으로 완성미를 보이고 있다. 대부분은 부드러운 평면이나 많은 부분은 아직도 마멸되어 가고 있는 모습이다. 이 작품은 구도상 1978년작 “Stonework No 1”와 흡사하다. “Stonework No 1”는 아직 마멸이 되기전 모습이랄까? 자연의 선은 곡선이나 인공의 선들은 직선이다. 두 작품을 함께 놓고 보면 시간의 풍화작용 (Elapse)을 보는 듯 하다.

     Untitled (Carrara Marble)는 인체의 여러부위를 재배치한 듯한 모습이다. 한 면만 보면 부조의 효과를 갖고 있어서 회화의 느낌도 주고 있다. 오랜 세월 땅속에서 묻혀 있다 표면으로 오른 화석과 같다. 화석과 다른 점은 표면이 부드러운 점이다. 시간에 의한 풍화의 결과이리라. 만약에 작가가 가장자리 경계선들과 꼭지들을 날카롭게 남겨 놓았다면 Braque의 회화같지 않을까? (Sundance, Onyx 비교)

   이 전시회의 주제는 Elapse 이다. 공간과 더불어 시간는 우리의 운명이고 우리의 한계이기도 하다. 인간은 narrative를 통해서 공간을 극복하려 했고, 한 순간의 모습을 정지시키는 회화를 통해 시간을 초월하려고 노력해 왔다. 이 전시회에서 장연탁 조각가는 시간의 변화를 깊게 깊게 인식하고 있다. (Torso, Elapse, Untitled, Sundance). 또 한편으로는 여기에 익숙해지는 방법으로 기억을 탰한 듯하다 (Moonlight, Bird from Rousina). 그는 작품은 자신의 경험의 울림이며 (Echo; 1978-1996 전시 화집) 이며 작업할 때 마다 어린 시절 날려 보낸 연이 주위에 맴돌고 있음을 경험한다고 한다 (2019전시 화집). 또 다음의 전시회를 기대해 본다.

The Weight of Wings

By Yeon-Tak Chang

It seems fortunate that wings were not given to human beings.
Human beings do not hope to have wings to fly. Angels, who have the appearance of human beings have wings. For human beings, the dream of wings is the thirst and longing for endless freedom.
In my childhood, I enjoyed flying kites on windy days. I flew the kites that I had made, up into the infinite blue sky, carrying my dream and vision. Then, I was beginning to escape into the endless journey of my life.
The wings of flying kite-birds were waking my sleeping soul.

As I grew older, I felt the wonder and mystery of nature preoccupying me, difficult to express. In the quiet of an early morning, watching birds flying by the lakeshore or in the park, I would realize the mysteriousness of nature; it was never “ordinary.”

How can I express the many mysterious harmonies occurring in nature, reflecting the relationship between nature and myself.
Nature makes me realize the meaning of my existence and offers me the wings of my dream to fly; it opens the gate to an unknown world.
Working with stone and metal, hard materials with which I am comfortable, offers me the challenge of an Alpine mountaineer. I cannot know the result. Will it be possible to express my feelings? But my endless inner pursuits of myself drives me towards uncertainty…

Repeatedly, I struggle, spreading my wings, towards the unknown world, not thinking about the final result. The result is a trace left; by the process. Wings of freedom, in the name of creation, I think about the weight of the wings. Wings that can lift heavy rocks: do wings have weight?
The answer may be the eternal quest because the wings do not exist for themselves. While the wings free me, I am not tired and I am winging constantly.

Yeon-Tak Chang, Spring 1996

THE SILENT ECHO, THE LOCUS OF YEON-TAK CHANG’S ARTING

By Kil-Young Yoo

Silence, absence of sound that is attended while it is voided.

Knowledge has no end. Life has an end. To chase/pursue knowledge, which has no end, with life, which has an end, is dangerous.1

but

Man pursues black on white.2

“Arting3” is Yeon-Tak Chang’s endless questioning about his spiritual identity and endless pursuing of the truth occurring in the labour (both mental and physical) of his sculpting. The question and pursuit is his spiritual locus of arting that is the locus of labouring where he kneads with earth and carves with stone.

The direct contact with the stone, as I carve a design, becomes the transitory moment into a continual voyage in unknown space releasing my inner vision.4

The continuous voyage in unknown space seems to me the unknown desire to journey to an unknown destiny that he consciously follows. Perhaps the continuous voyage in unknown space is an endless journey attempting to listen to the silent echo of his spiritual identity.
Chang said in a recent conversation:

I experience the attempt while carving a stone or kneading clay. Carving the stone to make a sculpture is an endless journey to seek my spiritual identity through endless labouring even though I wonder whether it is my destiny; then I imagine, Sisyphus ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of a mountain, whence the stone would fall back of its own weight, but the difference between Sisyphus and I is that I am forming my destiny through my labouring, the unknown desire for questioning and seeking my spiritual journey.

Here he suggests that carving the stone through his labouring reveals the state of his arting that is an unknown desire to journey to a mysterious destination for grasping his spiritual identity.

… the world’s worlding cannot be explained by anything else nor can it be fathomed through anything else. This impossibility does not lie in the inability of our human thinking to explain and fathom in this way. Rather, the inexplicable and unfathomable character of the world’s worlding lies in this, that causes and grounds remain unsuitable for the world’s worlding. As soon as human cognition here calls for an explanation, it fails to transcend the world’s nature, and falls short of it. The human will to explain just does not reach to the simpleness of the simple onefold of worlding.5

Then, can’t we explain (the simpleness of the simple) “the unknown desire for questioning and seeking”? Mallarme may help us understand human nature when he states this:

Man pursues black on white.

What Yeon-Tak Chang seems to be interested in and what his arting provokes is to pursue the primordial of pure visual thinking that exists before (or out of) verbal language. The pursuit of the primordial and pure visual world is equally as important as an act of being that occurs in everyday life. This pursuit is based on the primordial image and is a struggle that excludes conceptual speculation. The struggle is expressed and appears as an act of labouring, with the stone and clay as his chosen mediums. The endless act of labouring could let him carve until he gets the smallest particle of the stone which could be smaller than the tip of a chisel. At a certain point he leaves the sculpture as a trace of the primordiality accompanying the pure visual thinking.

The trace leaves a shape which does not resemble anything in the world which appears in front of us, however, the audience can feel the images of wave, wind and an impression of flowing, soaring and growing. What we are confronted with in this situation is the recognition of the existence of the pure visual thinking. The sculptor’s endless act of labouring, as the primordiality of the pure visual thinking, is suggested in his untitled works. He
has no need to close his work off, rather his labour has no limit to possibility.

In a recent conversation with Chang, I discovered that his visual thinking originated in his intuition.

I usually approach carving stone directly without having a sketch or a model for a work. It can be said that I start to carve without any preliminary thought, but it is not to say that I start to a stone with nothing thought out. It is to say that I approach sculpting while emptying myself. It is not to be explicable rationally, but it is certainly understandable; something that comes from my intuition.

These aspects suggest that the purity of the visual thinking as primordiality in his act of arting exists in intuition. Then we could imagine that he could have imagined to make sculpture without labour. But his questing is due to his choice of vocation as a sculptor and from his unknown desire in sculpting as a means of seeking his spiritual identity. The sculpting requires labour. It is important to recognize his will to sculpt. This is another aspect which Chang, the artist, does not need to explicate. It may be called the nature or symptom of his being which, I think, exists with his spiritual identity.

The carving [labouring] is, for me, both an impulsive motion [intuitive act] and a restful peace [freedom]. The restless repetition of the motion is enchanting and helps me discover a mysterious world leading to a spiritual identity.6

The mysterious world here is the trace that he leaves according to his will. What is left is the intuitive vision that is clarified in the dialogue between two ancient Chinese philosophers:

Chuang Tzu and Hui Tzu were strolling along the dam of the Hao River when Chuang Tzu said, “See how the minnows come out and dart around where they please! That’s what fish really enjoy!” Hui Tzu said, “You are not a fish – how do you know what fish enjoy?” Chuang Tzu said, “You’re not I, so how do you know I don’t know what fish enjoy?” Hui Tzu said, “I’m not you, so I certainly don’t know what you know. On the other hand, you’re certainly not a fish – so that still proves you don’t know that fish enjoy!” Chuang Tzu said, “Let’s go back to your original question, please. You asked me how I know what fish enjoy – so you already knew it when you asked the question. I know it by standing here beside the Hao.7

Here Chuang Tzu’s intuition, an imagination, exists before speech. The imagination embraces the intuition which is the creative thinking process. This process is embodied by the intuitive reason and intuitive desire in the thinking process-labour. This embodiment occurs in Yeon-Tak Chang’s arting.

The irony; also the essence, of Chang’s arting is that he attempts to grasp his spiritual identity in the metaphysical state that is invisible, inaudible and unfathomable through the physical state of carving stone and kneading clay which are visible, touchable materials. According to Chang Tzu, Yeon-Tak Chang is in danger because the artist seeks his spiritual identity in the immeasurable through the use of stone and clay; the measurable. Knowledge has no end.

Life has an end. To chase/pursue knowledge, which has no end, with life, which has an end, is dangerous.8 In pursuing this danger, Yeon-Tak Chang aspires to that supreme goal that is the fusion of his intuitive reason with his willful desire. This Fusion is his spiritual identity.

The locus of Yeon-Tak Chang’s arting lies in his freedom and will to voyage into unknown space. This act of labouring in resolving this pure visual thinking is the ‘silent echo’ that he endlessly attempts to grasp.

Endnotes

1. Chuang-Tzu. Chuang-Tzu and Lao-Tzu, trans. Suk-ho Lee, Sam Sung Press, Seoul, 1976, pp9
2. Stephane Mallarme, in Jonathan Culler’s Structuralist Poetics: Structuralism, Linguistics, and the Study of Literature, Cornell University Press, New York, 1975, pp189
3. The author, proposed the use of the word “art” (a noun) as a verb at a panel discussion In Toronto on 18 February 1995, and at a symposium in Sydney (at Goethe-Institute). Australia 23 February 1995 
4. Yeon-Tak Chang, from the interview with Anne Tyler, The Independent, Minnesota, USA (October 1983)
5. Martin Heidegger. Poetry, Language, Thought, trans. Albert Hofstadter, Harper & Row Publishers, New York, 1971 , pp 179-180 
6. Yeon-Tak Chang, from the interview with Anne Tyler, The Independent, Minnesota, USA (October 1983) 
7. Chuang Tzu. CHUANG TZU: Basic Writings, trans. Burton Watson. Columbia University Press, New York and London, 1964, pp110 
8. See footnote 1

Kil-young Yoo is an artist and independent curator living in Toronto.

The Resolution of the Paradox

By Doug L. Robinson, Sculptor

Yeon-Tak Chang has a deep awareness of the balance between kinetic and potential energy. The concepts of freedom and flight are opposed to the density of stone, yet Chang succeeds in releasing marble from its gravitational pull and his forms appear to fly and dance.

Working without models, he works into and around the material towards the resolution of the paradox that such a dense material appears so mobile. These free forms tease with hints of the actual – a waterfall, a dancing woman, a moving cloud, or an echo of a composite form.

However, they are none of these. The pieces stop before the fact of representation or go past that embryonic moment to an alternative state of renewal. His works are caught in a moment of transition. Just as the sculptor is, the viewer is forced to think about space, energy, and their own consciousness.

Chang comments: “I rediscover my recurring inner dialogue. My sculpture echoes the process of tuning in to myself.”

Doug L. Robinson, Sculptor
April 1982

This article is reproduced from the 1996 publication “Silent Echo”
featuring works by Yeon-Tak Chang.

AN ENDLESS JOURNEY TO UNKNOWN SPACE

By Michael C. Irving, Ph.D.

Chisel rhythmically beating on stone like a poet, like the wind. Like a rock, climbing, struggling with self, challenging sculptor and humanity, reaching up to be free. Yeon-Tak Chang’s sculptural images are simple and powerful. The forms are innovative and simultaneously connected to age-old artforms and philosophy. The sculpture is inseparable from poetry. His images carved into the permanence of stone are filled with life bursting out with meaning.

Yeon-Tak is a powerful, yet quiet and unassuming person. He is solid like the material he carves in. His art images transcend culture and time. As an artist, Yeon-Tak’s life has been deeply connected to aquarian times when people were a part of the vitality of nature. As silent echoes, the poetry in these stones are the sound of water, the sight of wind, the texture of clouds, the smell of the branch falling. Yeon-Tak’s sculptures are a synthesis of east and west and of ancient and modern.

Each simple and graceful sculpture is slowly hewn from raw rock. The exquisite forms come into being through physically demanding labour, combined with keen intellectual pursuit and an ever-present quest for spiritual depth. Yeon-Tak considers, “There may be joy in reaching the top of a pinnacle, but it is the journey which is more important. The struggle and challenge is a spiritual experience. Sculpting purifies the mind. The sculptor’s carving is healing through the stone.”

Yeon-Tak is a mature artist who understands much of himself and his material. His words emanate from the inner voice of an oriental child, steeped in ancient learnings. When you see the modern innovative marble forms before you, also see a Korean farm boy deeply attached to earth, nature, the simplicity of life reaching upward from the soil. See the child on his grandfather’s simple farm in Korea, few toys – mostly hand made. See a child whose shoes were woven from the very rice reeds which also furnished food. See a young child who repeatedly hears the distant train whistle, but does not first hand view that iron oddity which he sometimes sees in a book.

To imagine trains he flew home-made kites. The young artist’s mind refining the poetry of art, travelled the course of the string, up to the kite, into the clouds. Flying in the winds, this child, who was grounded in the soil, envisioned lands and images beyond the valley of quiet farms. These sojourns refined the natural artistic talents of mind and spirit so that now out of each carved stone, life bursts, like the thunder and wind from clouds. Through art he chose to retain a hold on his heritage. Yeon-Tak proudly assures, “The son of a farmer knows plants; knows how to cultivate. This is a connection to nature.” Yeon-Tak’s sculptures own the vitality of life sprouting from soil, water and air. His sculptures can be titled after kites, waves, soaring, seeds, the earth-echoes.

Yeon-Tak reflects, “Stone, earth, tree, are like my body. Nature is myself. I Iive in the city, but nature is like my body. My thoughts are out in the country. The city is empty for me. The country is pure – earth.” Inspiration for his art is replenished through sojourns into nature where the soul can feel close to earth. Yeon-Tak finds a vitality in the sight or sound of running water; a stretch of beach. With the earth in his heart he returns to the stone carving bench to allow expression of his musings. With tools and spirit the sculptor in Yeon-Tak rhythmically gives life to the material – a silent echo. Yeon-Tak says, “Stone carving is very hard physical work, but there is freedom. The sculpture serves as a testing to the artist. Sculpting means being a free man –freedom.”

A raw rock becomes a polished sculpture after much time. For Yeon-Tak the result is not as important as the process. In the studio a small maquette may sometimes be created for a work. More often the stone is directly engaged with hammer and chisel. Yeon-Tak can make very realistic sculpture, but he likes free form sculpture. It is more symbolic poetry for him. “Simplicity of the point is most important.” He perceives his sculpture is like a poem, not like a novel. In the work there is an evolution of building up and cutting back, searching for the basic form. As with the simplicity of the poem all that is unnecessary is taken off. “Branches and tributaries are removed to see the essence of the trunk or river. The most simple poem of the sculpture is its basic form.”

The vitality of the human spirit is brought to bear in each piece as it is repeatedly engaged in a search for form and meaning. “Sculpting is touching nature,” Yeon-Tak experiences, “That kind of process is like prayer – the repeated pounding is like a mantra or chanting. It makes the emptiness inside into meaning.” Yeon-Tak considers, “My Eastern thinking finds beauty in the harmony of art. Art means beauty; beauty is art. Without harmony you cannot make good art. Harmony is love.”

The aesthetic, philosophical and spiritual representations manifested in Yeon-Tak’s images are universal. He says very little about each sculpture and may call a piece Abstract or Study. He states, “I like untitled pieces, when I give a title to a piece people think in that precise vein. I would rather people consider their own reflections.” The sculpture serves as an individual silent echo for artist and viewer, though Yeon-Tak acknowledges, “Sometimes some people cannot catch the echo. They cannot touch or reach out.” Just as the artist must physically and spiritually encounter the raw stone to find meaning and healing, in order to reach the waves of the inner sky, the art viewer must also struggle to quiet the stresses placed on the modern mind and soul.

We all crave the simplicity of nature and earth which Yeon-Tak touches upon in his confrontation with stone. His work is his story and it is our story. As Yeon-Tak muses:

The stone silently echoes the silence between two people. People think silence. The meaning of silence is the silence. When there is no wind and everything is still, there is silence. When you don’t talk there is silence. But the thinking is an echo. The life that the sculptor gives to the silent stone is an echo of the sculptor’s life. My sculpture is silent, but it echoes my mind.

There is no silence in the world, there is always something inside or outside which is moving – that is echo. Silence is not silence, there is always communication – that is echo. There is love – that is echo. You have to open your heart to make the inside out. That makes a sound echo which is communication.

The art exhibition Silent Echo is a passage along a journey. In this show we are given the gift of Yeon-Tak’s echoes and are called upon by him to explore our own echoes. He asks that our paths be individual, but go side-by-side for a while. Yeon-Tak reflects, “I am still travelling. Like a voyager there is a goal, but it is not clear. The journey right now is most important.”

Toronto, March 1996′

This article is reproduced from the 1996 publication “Silent Echo”
featuring works by Yeon-Tak Chang.

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