Self-organization in Seoul: Who Creates Experimental Art in South Korea

In September, when Frieze and Kiaf art fairs take place in Seoul, the city transforms into a meeting place for cultural workers and art enthusiasts from around the world. The guests are welcomed by a massive event schedule: the biggest local and international galleries host fancy openings and launch pop-up projects, major museums, and art centers always plan to unveil their most important exhibitions at the start of September. The impression of Seoul itself is also not to be underestimated: its vibrant urban landscape and the legendary Korean cuisine leave a mark on every visitor.

However, one "art fair week" is not enough to acquaint oneself with the art scene of the entire city. For instance, this is definitely not an easy task, as it requires knowledge of the language, thorough preparation, or insider assistance to find the self-organized spaces scattered across diverse districts of gigantic Seoul. These spaces are also often located in not-so-obvious buildings and lack any visible signage. In general despite some occasional efforts from supporting governmental bodies, such important local initiatives remain almost invisible to the international audience.

Leeeunji

Leeeunji is a Seoul-based artist. In 2018, she initiated an artist collective and an artist-run space called Jungganjijeom. Jungganjijeom began in Euljiro, a rare area in central Seoul where the rent remains reasonable, making it a hub for self-organized art initiatives. The term "Jungganjijeom" can be translated from Korean as "mid-spot," aligning with the collective's conceptual interests. Jungganjijeom is dedicated to collaborative practices and projects that explore various intermediate states within the realm of visual arts.

LEEEUNJI, HOW DID YOU COME UP WITH THE IDEA TO START AN INDEPENDENT ART SPACE?

The space, which is now known as Jungganjijeom I, used to be my studio. I worked there alone, and occasionally my colleagues would drop by, and we would engage in discussions. I had a keen interest in fostering conversations and believed in creating a networking space. Five years have passed since then, and we have experienced growth. In September 2022, we identified a suitable and affordable location in another part of Seoul, Jongno-gu, and opened the second space, Jungganjijeom II.

I believe that artist-run spaces play a vital role in any contemporary art scene. These spaces offer platforms where artists can operate more freely, on their own terms, as they typically curate and organize exhibitions themselves. Our intention was to create an "intermediate" space, one that exists between a studio and an institution.

Moreover, I consider the archival materials from artist-run spaces valuable resources for future researchers and curators, as they capture the artists' own narratives. We have been maintaining a meticulous archive of all Jungganjijeom activities.

IT SEEMS TO ME THAT THE IDEA OF CREATING A NETWORKING SPACE COULD HAVE BEEN INFLUENCED BY JUNGGANJIJEOM'S LOCATION IN EULJIRO. WHEN WE MET IN SEOUL, YOU TOOK ME ON A 'TOUR' AROUND THE ART SPACES IN EULJIRO, AND THERE WERE PLENTY OF THEM. SO, I GUESS IT WAS NATURAL TO CONSIDER HOW THIS COMMUNITY CAN WORK TOGETHER?

Well, I can't say we specifically focus on networking in relation to our locality; it's more community-oriented. While Euljiro spaces are familiar with each other, unfortunately, they don't collaborate on projects very often. However, this fall, we managed to organize Pattern — a collaboration with two other spaces in Euljiro, named OF and pie. We proposed creating group exhibitions with different curatorial concepts but opening them simultaneously and featuring the same lists of artists. This idea originated from our 'Jgjj challenge' series. From 2020 to 2022, we organized group projects where the participant list was built on a model inspired by initiatives like the Ice Bucket Challenge. Specifically, artists recommended other artists, and then they collaborated on a show collectively. This idea emerged from our curiosity about group dynamics and the relationships that develop between artists within group shows.

ON THIS NOTE COULD YOU TELL ME MORE ABOUT YOUR APPROACH TO PROGRAMMING AT JUNGGANJIJEOM? HOW DO YOU CHOOSE PROJECTS AND ARTISTS?

In Jungganjijeom I, we typically plan one project each in the spring and fall, and additionally select three to four exhibitions annually through open calls. In Jungganjijeom II, we aim to organize at least one or two projects per year.

We are very flexible in terms of the selection process and aim to minimize criteria; I believe independent spaces like ours should maintain such an approach. We primarily collaborate with artists who share our conceptual interests and are willing to engage in meaningful conversations. At Jungganjijeom, especially within exhibitions, our focus is on relationships that might be overlooked and dialogues that could be fostered. Rather than taking a critical curatorial approach, our goal is to create a platform that facilitates conversations and connections.

DO YOU WORK ONLY WITH KOREAN ARTISTS?

Naturally, we have collaborated with local artists, but we aim to expand and explore opportunities to work with non-Korean artists as well. So far, only a few foreign artists have participated in our projects, and we are still figuring out how international collaborations might unfold. While our audience is predominantly local, we are actively seeking ways to reach a broader audience.

We had an interesting experience in this regard with Jungganjijeom II. Its inaugural exhibition was curated by Yuki Konno, a curator who works between Japan and Korea. He invited me to participate in his show as an artist. The exhibition was a touring show scheduled for Tokyo and Kyoto, exploring Korean and Eastern painting. Since these terms are used interchangeably, both carrying colonial connotations, I felt it was crucial to showcase this project in Korea as well, which we did at the newly opened Jungganjijeom II.

HOW DO YOU MAINTAIN SUCH SCOPE OF WORK ADMINISTRATIVELY AND FINANCIALLY? I KNOW THAT LIFE MIGHT NOT BE EASY FOR INDEPENDENT ART SPACES.

Now there are four of us at Jungganjijeom, plus a guest member. Prioritizing is crucial, as we all have our own artistic practices to maintain. We try to allocate our roles in running the space very clearly, leveraging each other's strengths. For instance, our guest member is personally interested in behind-the-scenes labor, and she works on exhibition setup and space restoration at Jungganjijeom. I, myself, am deeply interested in communities formed by people coming together, including crowd psychology and traditions. That's why I consider it essential to balance my individual work and collective projects.

Most of our funding comes from national grants, but it is not always sufficient. We try to secure additional support, and I research extensively on how funding for non-profit artist-run spaces works in other countries. Sometimes we rent out our space, and I am also exploring board membership models.

I remember back in 2016, the independent art scene in Seoul was extremely active and eventful. Nowadays, there is a more static approach focusing on sustaining smaller projects and fostering mutual support over the long term. However, it's all about finding ways of coexistence. Sustaining our space is a significant challenge, mainly because of funding. But having Jungganjijeom brings us the opportunity to meet a lot of people and provides the motivation to keep creating. To me, it serves as a driving force to act both as a space operator and as an artist.

Sangjin Kim and Jinho Lim

Sangjin Kim and Jinho Lim are the co-founders of out_sight, a self-organised space that was most active from 2016 to 2022, focusing on radical experimental projects. To quote Sangjin and Jinho: “Avoid whatever has been predetermined. Continue avoiding.” Jinho Lim is a curator and art writer, currently serving as an adjunct professor at Korea National University of Arts. Sangjin Kim is an artist, curator, and teacher. He has participated in numerous solo and collective shows, including a recent notable overview of contemporary South Korean culture, "Hallyu! The Korean Wave," at the V&A Museum in London.

ONE OF THE RESPONDENTS FOR THIS ARTICLE NOTED THAT, IN HER OPINION, THE MID-2010S WAS THE TIME WHEN THE INDEPENDENT ART SCENE IN SEOUL WAS AT ITS MOST ACTIVE STATE. YOU STARTED OUT_SIGHT IN 2016; DID YOU FEEL ANY SPECIAL ENERGY IN THE AIR BACK THEN TOO?

True, in the 2010s, numerous artist-run spaces appeared and disappeared in Seoul. As the rigid and aging structure of the existing art distribution system could not handle the burgeoning number of artists and the volume of their products, the artists — the producers in the system — entered the distribution system. We believe out_sight was part of this wave in the larger context.

DO YOU THINK THE SITUATION HAS CHANGED SINCE THEN?

Yes, thanks to the numerous artist-run spaces that have emerged over the past ten years, self-organised spaces have now become somewhat common enough to no longer be seen as stand-outs. In a way, we have made a big progress, considering how the institutional system back then used to treat these spaces as marginal.

BOTH OF YOU ALREADY HAD VERY ACTIVE CAREERS IN ART BEFORE STARTING OUT_SIGHT. WHAT MOTIVATED YOU TO OPEN AN INDEPENDENT ART SPACE?

It started from our doubt in conventional art institutions and our understanding of certain limitations in the discourses that are produced or reproduced within the system. It seemed to us that the institutions, overly concerned with ostensible neutrality or transparency, refused to delve deeper into works and discourses. As a result, the audience was forced to recite superficial information "printed on the packaging," rather than having a raw encounter with the art. Institutions appeared to operate in the direction of thoroughly strengthening the authority of the system or its supporting body. Faced with an apparent hierarchy structured by big museums and commercial galleries that benefited the economy of scale, artists in the early stages of their careers seemed more concerned with securing a better position on the institutional ladder than with artistic development.

Sangjin Kim: Personally, I consider running out_sight as an extension of my artistic practice. I started making art pursuing certain questions, and my career in the institution unfolded following questions as well. Thirst has always been there. out_sight happened on the continuity of these questions. However, maintaining both the roles of artist and director simultaneously was very challenging and demanding in terms of time, capital resources, and energy.

Jinho Lim: Running out_sight was a physical and affective experience, and I believe that what I had read in books and learned in theories before became more vivid, personal, and visceral through such experiences at out_sight. out_sight was a blank page, an anonymous agent, a coherent identity, a leaky aging facility in need of constant care, a battlefield, a collective intelligence, and a collective body. I still identify my career with out_sight, and we are figuring out where we are headed now.

FROM WHAT YOU ARE SAYING I SEE YOU POSITIONED OUT_SIGHT AS A KIND OF A TRICKSTER SPACE. HOW DID YOU TRANSLATE THIS STANDPOINT INTO THE PROGRAM OF OUT_SIGHT?

The name of the space, out_sight, symbolizes a dialectic viewpoint regarding the border between the inside and outside (of the system, hegemony, discourse, and others) as something fluid and invertible. With out_sight, we intend to sense novel movements, correlative motions, and energy that neutralize the barrier of the innards (institutions). This intention informed our approach to the selection of artists and projects: out_sight has mainly exhibited artists who embody novelty and a firm artistic persistence. With this in mind, we worked with both underrepresented and more visible artists, Korean and foreign.

In 2019 and 2020, we operated a second space or an annex to out_sight called OS in another part of Seoul. Situated in a small multi-floored building at the foot of Namsan Mountain, OS was structurally very different from out_sight. out_sight is essentially a ground-floor garage hidden behind a steel side door on a small alley, although it is located in Jong-ro, the old city center of Seoul that hosts major museums and art galleries.

With OS, we were even more open, experimental, and flexible. While we continued with our rather meticulously curated projects at out_sight, we tried more projects with younger emerging artists at OS, whose approaches we found refreshing, even though it was still challenging for us to articulate.

Running out_sight and OS together was like going back and forth between the poles of openness and seclusiveness, lightness and gravity, coherence and dissimilarity. The exhibition "SugarCumPro" was arguably the culmination of our practice during that period. The project was conceived as a constellation of five solo exhibitions by five local and foreign artists, using five exhibition rooms at out_sight and OS.

WHAT RESOURCES DID YOU HAVE TO MAINTAIN THE WORK AT OUT_SIGHT AND OS?

From the second year until the final year, it was a team of three: a director, chief curator, and a curator. Additionally, we worked with an intern who was a fascinating translator, and three coordinators who assisted us in facility management and installation.
We managed four years without funding aids and two years with the benefits of public funds.

When we had no funding aids, we made it a rule to fully cover artist fees, design fees, writer’s fees, staff wages, etc., at our own expense. We could go on without additional funding for so long because we were in a lucky rent-free situation. But we also believe that decision represented our determination to focus all our energy on the artistic program of out_sight, rather than invest significant time and effort in the fundraising process.

Of course, relying on personal pockets, especially those of artists who run the space, could be seen as an unhealthy model from a sustainable perspective. However, operating with public funds is not without trouble as well and comes with many strings attached, such as formal, qualitative, accountability criteria, and specific allocation of funds that can be inefficient and limiting.

Right after the pandemic, when the art market heated up abnormally, independent art spaces converting to commercial galleries and entering art fairs seemed like a trend. It's not that we didn't consider such a model, but it was difficult to find rationale and practicality in pursuing profit within our vision and identity. We temporarily halted our activities while contemplating this issue.

SANGJIN, JINHO, BOTH OF YOU STUDIED AND WORKED OUTSIDE OF SOUTH KOREA, NAMELY IN THE UK AND THE USA. DO YOU SEE THAT INDEPENDENT ART SPACES IN SEOUL FACE THE SAME DIFFICULTIES AS THE ONES IN THOSE COUNTRIES?

As we understand it, the financial resources and models supporting artists and art organizations are relatively diverse in the UK and the USA, with private foundations, corporate donations, and the support of private collectors. In the case of Korea, public funding managed by the government constitutes the majority of financial resources in the fine art sector. In a way, it is our merit to have a big functioning public system.

Many artists and organizations here in Seoul rely heavily on Art Council Korea, managed by the central government, or the Seoul Foundation for Arts and Culture, managed by the local government of Seoul. As they both operate in similar annual cycles (open call during autumn, evaluation and announcement in winter, closing and opening accounts in spring, etc.), many artists and organizations operate according to the funding application cycle. Interestingly enough, exhibitions open everywhere in November and December, while January and February hardly see open galleries.

So, I guess we are returning to the financial model of these artist-run spaces to remain independent and autonomous from institutionalized standards.

Hyejung Jang

Hyejung Jang is a contemporary art curator based in Seoul, currently working as a chief curator at DOOSAN Gallery, DOOSAN Art Center. She has also co-curated Focus Asia at Frieze Seoul in 2022 and 2023 (and will also do so in 2024) — the special section of the fair that focuses on cutting-edge galleries from South and South-East Asia. Hyejung Jang is a co-organizer of WESS, an independent curatorial group.

HYEJUNG, YOU ARE PRESENT IN THE SEOUL ART SCENE ON MANY DIFFERENT LEVELS: AS A CHIEF CURATOR AT A PRIVATE INSTITUTION, AS AN INDEPENDENT CURATOR. YOU ALSO PARTICIPATE IN THE COMMERCIAL SECTOR THROUGH YOUR COLLABORATION WITH FRIEZE SEOUL. WHAT ROLE DOES WESS PLAY FOR YOU IN THIS CONSTELLATION OF ACTIVITIES?

Goeun Song, the co-organizer of WESS, and I came up with an idea to start WESS for two main reasons. First, we wanted to raise awareness of curatorial practice as an artistic practice, and we desired to see projects that strongly reflected the attitudes and interests of individual curators, including ourselves. We also sought a way to sustain these challenges and be flexible without relying too heavily on sponsorship or public grants.

WESS has been important to me as a place where I can research and express my interests in their rawest, unpolished state but most essential. Moreover, in my personal curatorial practice, I am interested in the production of knowledge and the experience of learning. I admire artists and curators who, through their work, trigger changes in optics and existing perceptions. I derive a lot of that stimulation from the co-curators of WESS. WESS is also my curatorial practice for learning.

AS I UNDERSTOOD, THE IDEA BEHIND WESS WAS TO ORGANIZE A SPACE THAT WOULD BE RUN BY A GROUP OF CURATORS COLLECTIVELY. I ALSO KNOW THAT AS MANY AS ELEVEN CURATORS HAVE BEEN INVOLVED IN THE PROJECT. HOW DO YOU MAINTAIN PROGRAMMING IN THE POLYPHONY OF SO MANY VOICES?

WESS is a collective of contemporary art curators based in Seoul. It was co-organized by Goeun Song and me, and we opened the space in October 2019, with a total of eleven curators running the space and programs together. In 2021, with a change of three people, we maintained the number of eleven until recently, and as of November 2023, we are looking to close the space and continue our activities and programs on a project-based basis instead, with a total of eight curators (Jeeyoung Maeng, Suzy Park, Goeun Song, Jihyun Shin, Juli Yoon, Gyusik Lee, Sunghui Lee, and Hyejung Jang).

As mentioned before, we were interested in providing curators with a platform for individual statements. The curators presented their projects at WESS one after the other and had curatorial and administrative autonomy. As such, WESS does not represent a single collective thematic consciousness or mission but rather attempts to consistently create spaces and opportunities to give and receive honest and in-depth feedback on each project, as well as a platform to expand the conversation with other curators, artists, critics, and researchers. The name WESS comes from "WE Show Separate," which reflects this ideology.

However, some initiatives, like those that represent WESS as a platform, are operated collectively by WESS. A good example is a collaborative project with Frieze Seoul Film 2022—a curated program of video works by local and diasporic Korean artists, or the annual event Exhibition\Publication that supports the distribution of exhibition-related publications.

Of course, the process is not always completely smooth. From the very beginning of WESS, we sought to act as a kind of loose coalition that strives not to have a single unified direction, but sometimes we have to have a unified voice or decision. It's always a challenge to figure out how to move forward while respecting different views when we're in these conflicting situations. But at the same time, it's a benefit to be in that process of conflict together because what we learn from each other in that process, the sense of camaraderie that builds, all of that feeds back into individual practices.

HOW DID YOU FIND A SPACE FOR WESS?

Our primary considerations were transportation and proximity to other art spaces within Seoul, and more realistically, we wanted to make sure that the rent was within our reach. We thought about accessibility, but considering the first two points, it wasn't possible to have a space on the first floor. Other than that, we wanted to make the interior of the space as neutral as possible so that the concepts and works presented by the individual curators could be the center of attention.

When WESS opened, it was among the first independent spaces in the Seongbuk-dong area, but since then, several more independent spaces have emerged in the neighbourhood. So, we wonder if WESS might have contributed to the creation of the Seongbuk-dong contemporary art space scene.

AND HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE THE CURRENT POSITION OF THE INDEPENDENT NON-PROFIT SPACES IN SEOUL? DO YOU THINK THE SITUATION HAS CHANGED SINCE YOU OPENED WESS?

WESS has a reflective attitude towards alternative spaces that existed before. Some spaces with a reflective or critical attitude, like us, have been found in the last 3-5 years.

I think the status of such spaces has increased lately because more of them now have a clear mission or curatorial image. I hope that explicit curating can contribute greatly to the positioning and promotion of independent spaces.

Contemporary art is always in a state of flux, so I think it's important for spaces to have a fluid and flexible attitude. WESS is also not a fully-fledged system by any means, and knowing that, we have decided to keep our activities intangible. Of course, the unstable financial system is also a factor in this change. To be honest, I think the stability of space is difficult to secure in the Korean art world unless private sponsorship is secured. I accept that as a condition that is beyond my personal control, so I don't make physical stability my top goal, but I want to keep trying to do what I can within the given conditions.