Hyunmo Yang – Painting Such Paintings Himself

Jaeyoung Yoon

Yangpyeong Museum of Art

“There is indeed the inexpressible. This shows itself; it is mystical”1

– Ludwig Wittgenstein in Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus

1. Hyunmo Yang is a person who desires to capture the world he inhabits. The artist I’ve known so far is honest. There is no hypocrisy. He affirms what he knows and admits to things he doesn’t. At a time when many works try to say something, Yang’s paintings say nothing. Instead of words, he explores fundamental, formative elements of points, lines planes, shapes, and the aesthetic experience of such discovery. This is exemplified by the series of individual works in Where Are You Today. There consists only of strange sways of color, the subtle vibrations of form, and the momentary changes of dots that he creates. Can you find any questions in his works? There are no assertions in his paintings. The title of the Flexible Forms series and its works suggests that he is not particularly interested in making statements.

For Yang, silence is more important than words, and form more important than content. But how dangerous is it to not speak in the contemporary era? It goes hand in hand with the downfall of the form that Yang pursues. We have already accepted many words as important values of art in the name of ethics, justice, politics, and practice. Silence and form are exhausted reasons in the contemporary pursuit of non-aesthetic values. Look at the list of biennale entries and art prize winners. No one speaks of their significance or weight anymore. Choosing “A” when others choose “B”. Whether choosing to be an artist in a capitalist society or simply existing as an insignificant being in a vast world, this choice requires much courage.

2. The fall of formalism in art history was presaged by Clement Greenberg in his attempt to rescue real art from a polluted world. Borrowing from Immanuel Kant, Greenberg posited that “the best taste is one developed under the pressure imposed by the best art and as such most subjected to that pressure; conversely, the best art is one cultivated under the pressure imposed by the best taste.”2 Though Greenberg supported the aesthetic autonomy thesis—the crux of Kant's assessment of taste—he leans closer to a moral judgment based on “the good” rather than simply on “the beautiful”. The inherent contradictions that doomed formalism stem from Greenberg's tautological worldview. The world is not particularly sacred, but it is also not particularly polluted. The world is the way it is. Mountains are mountains, water is water. “It's not mysterious how the world is, it's mysterious that there is a world.”3

In a world that has lost form, people naturally started to ask what exactly constitutes art. Joseph Kosuth once postulated, “works of art are analytic propositions.”4 This is not one of Kosuth's genius insight into the heart of contemporary art, but rather a twist on Ludwig Wittgenstein's explanation of tautology.5 Analytic propositions do not require experience to determine truth.6 To know whether the proposition “A bachelor is an unmarried man” is true, we only need to know what a bachelor is. Similarly, to know what a work of art is, we only need to know what art is. So what is art? Unfortunately, I don't know what art is. I can only investigate, as Martin Heidegger did when he suspected that art was a nominalist concept and searched for commonalities among individual works.7 But there is no logical possibility that the existence of artworks, which Heidegger tracks, guarantees that art exists. Art cannot speak. We cannot draw a picture that corresponds in reality to its semantics. “What art, logic, and mathematics have in common is that they are tautologically homonymous.”8 It is perhaps a similar proposition to the one of how to best live our lives. “Ethics and aesthetics are one and the same.”9

If art and much of what is said of contemporary art is unspeakable because it is homophonic, like an anti-anxiety drug, then it would be deceptive to discuss it. We don't have a method of its exploration. Truthfully, our art is to some extent, deceptive. Damien Hirst once said, “if you believe in art as you believe in God or religion, then it is art.”10 This captures the deceptive nature of art. Art is supposed to be shown, not told; it's supposed to be a language that can't be proven. For Wittgenstein, art lies beyond this world.11 It is akin to dark matter, whose existence is unknown because it is unobservable. We need to reflect here on the myriads of words in contemporary art. If words were all there were, it would be better to read a paper or report that summarizes rather than to view them directly. A lot of words create misconceptions about art. Contemporary art has gained a practical potential by embracing non-aesthetic values and related discourse, but on the other hand has lost the very people who can implement them. The pejorative expression “artspeak” insinuates how those outside view the art world. “We should be silent about the unspeakable.”12

3. There are things that should be said, and there are things that must be shown. They reveal themselves. Yang's Short Truth resembles the universe. Why do his paintings increasingly resemble the universe? Perhaps it’s because his brush points to himself and beyond to a wider world. Unlike many “abstract” artists, he does not commence from within. Yang says that he was inspired by the scenery outside his window in the series Floating Today—but does the scenery outside the window really change much? Nevertheless, he sees eternity in a moment. What he sees is the “past and future,” a peacock spider, “brilliant but sad”, the wind, “hateful but sparkling”, a star above the city, and something "close to me or resembling me. Yang posits that he wants to “measure what I can't measure.” He sees himself and the world at the same time. It is an inside-view, a mysterious event.

Yang once expressed anxiety that his style was constantly changing. At that time, I said that it is both an advantage and a disadvantage. Constant change indicates a certain shrewdness in keeping pace with society, but also commonly characterizes artists struggling with self-effacement. But that was my misjudgment, as I didn't understand the artist deeply enough to realize that he was trying to paint the unspeakable. I should’ve realized that Yang is an artist aligning himself to the world, ever since his exhibition Burning Symmetry—when the Shield series felt like more like a door rather than a shield, and his notes constantly stated a certain view that simultaneously aligned himself to the world. This is why when he asked me to redo his note, I was happy to oblige. He is an artist that has always sought to capture and draw the world.

Trying to “measure the immeasurable” is the greatest cause of his anxiety. As implied, it’d be something he cannot count nor discuss. Fortunately, he seems to accept his anxiety as a fact, as shown in Flexible Forms 07.02. Here, the lines bring a sense of stability to what would otherwise be a chaotic screen. The horizontal line that divides the screen into thirds, and the vertical lines that intersect it, serve to ground the eye and contain the excessive bouncing of colors and atypical shapes. In most of Yang's works, straight lines are a metaphor for the human attitude of living life to the fullest. Can he shake off his anxiety? If it entails complete liberation or salvation, I think it is impossible. If the path that Yang envisions still faces the world, the ineffable nature of such an endeavor bodes anxiety. But this unique path is one that only honest people can walk. It is nonsense to say that life is fleeting.

In the end, determining Yang's work depends contextually on the viewer. The uniquely aesthetic experience of his works functions as a formative device to understand oneself in accordance with the world. Art cannot speak, but it must show us that world, and that is the Short Truth of Yang's work. Phenomenology and analytic philosophy, the only two kinds of philosophy that can stand on the lectern, meet again only when discussing art and the world. “I am my world (microcosm).”13

1) Wittgenstein, Ludwig, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, 이영현 역, 책세상, 2006, p.128.

2) Clement Greenberg, 「Seminar III: Can Taste Be Objective?」 in Artnews, 1973, p.23.

3) Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, p.127.

4) Joseph Kosuth, 「Art After Philosophy and After」 in 『Art After Philosophy And After Collected Writings』, Gabriele Guercio ed, MIT Press, 1991, p.20.

5) Refer to Wittgenstein’s commentary on homonyms in Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus (6.1, 6.22, 6.23).

6) 경험이 필요하다는 반론에 대해서는 다음을 볼 것. Willard Quine, 「Two Dogmas of Empiricism」 , Philosophical Review 60(1), 1951, pp.20-43.

7) Martin Heidegger, 「The Origin of the Work of Art」 , Julian Young & Kenneth Haynes trans, Cambridge University Press, 2014.

8) Joseph Kosuth, 「Art After Philosophy and After」 in 『Art After Philosophy And After Collected Writings』, Gabriele Guercio ed, MIT Press, 1991, p.21

9) Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, p.125.

10) 김희영, 윤재영, 「데미안 허스트와 허스티즘, 믿음 체계의 정체」, 서양미술사학회 59, 2023, pp.93-116.

11) Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, p.124.

12) Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, p.129.

13) Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, p.101.