People / Critic

Light-gorged Lines that Hug the Fabric: NAM Tchunmo

posted 23 April 2019

In 『Logique du sens』(1981), the French philosopher Gilles Deleuze discussed the temporality of “aiôn.” The temporality with which most of us are familiar is linear, arranged into past, present, and future; in other words, “chronos.” Unlike with the temporality of chronos, in aiôn time, the present does not succeed the past, but instead is subdivided ad infinitum into past and future, in both directions at once. The present is a brief instant on the boundary between the past and the future. Strictly-speaking, even this brief instant cannot be said to exist. As soon as this instant becomes the present, it is immediately morphed into the past, with the future galloping forth at a frightening speed. While visiting 《NAM Tchunmo》, the first exhibition of the 2019 season at Leeahn Gallery, I was overtaken by a feeling that this venue existed in the alternative temporality of aiôn. By saying this, I don’t mean it in any philosophical or abstract sense. What I mean is rather that the visual style that was permeating the exhibition venue blurred my sense of temporality. As I stood there, my gaze was becoming subdivided ad infinitum into NAM Tchunmo of the past and NAM Tchunmo who is yet to come. I also witnessed the NAM Tchunmo of the past coming face-to-face with the NAM Tchunmo of the future.

NAM Tchunmo, 〈Spring-Beam〉, 2017. Oil on coated fabric, 280x280x10cm.

NAM Tchunmo (1961-) was born in Yeongyang, Gyeongsangbuk-do. He graduated from the Keimyung University College of Fine Arts and earned a Master of Fine Arts from the same university. He splits his time between Daegu and Cologne, Germany. NAM has had a string of solo and group exhibitions in Korea, France, Germany, the US, and China. His works are in the collections of the MMCA, the Kumho Museum of Art, Daegu Art Museum, and the Seoul Museum of Art. He was the winner of the 2010 Ha Chong Hyun Art Award and the 2012 Kumbok Culture Award Art Prize.

NAM Tchunmo, 〈Stroke 18-03〉(left) and 〈Stroke 18-02〉(right).

The Tradition of Line and the Expression of Fabric

If one were to describe NAM Tchunmo’s art in one word, it would be “line.” His lines are furthermore closely connected to Korean tradition: “In traditional Korean painting, lines are drawn on paper in ink not only to create contours of things, but also to render perspective. In other words, you can realize a perfect painting using only different shades of black, without resorting to any colors. I am fascinated by lines for their boundless expressive potential…¹⁾ Joseon-period painters drew orchids or bamboo trees using just a few lines. I wanted to follow in the footsteps of our ancestors to create works that are about lines themselves.”²⁾ NAM is best known for works made of various combinations of U-shaped modules (hereinafter “U-shaped module works”).³⁾ In my opinion, these works are the results of his ongoing attempt to tap the inexhaustible expressive potential of simple lines. U-shaped module works were first shown to the public in 1998, in his solo exhibition at Sigong Gallery. Initially, modules cut to a long U-shape were displayed at regular intervals in a manner to emphasize the rigidity and strength of straight lines. But later works featured various different types of lines, created using even-sized units that are almost square in shape.

NAM’s interest in lines is also unmistakable in two-dimensional works like his black and white line drawings. However, in his early U-shaped module works, NAM appears to have been more focused on bringing out the physical properties and expressiveness of fabrics than exploring the visual potential of lines. In the U-shaped module works that were created between 1997 and 2007, modules are made of solid or patterned fabric which was hardened by applying sheer polycoat (synthetic resin). The resin-coated fabric was then glued onto an acrylic panel. The goal in placing the fabric against a transparent acrylic panel appears to be the maximization of transparency. As this preserves the translucency of the fabric, its colors and nuances become better highlighted. Around this time, the artist also created three-dimensional works that underscored the soft and flexible properties of fabric and installation pieces that were set up on dazzling fabrics in vivid primary colors spread out on the floor. All of this suggests that the artist was then more keen on experimenting with fabrics than exploiting the visual potential of lines.

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NAM Tchunmo, 〈Spring-Beam〉, 2018. Oil on coated fabric, 66x67x40cm.

However, from 2007, the artist started to place U-shaped modules on canvases instead of acrylic panels. NAM explained this decision to switch to canvases by saying that using acrylic panels, he could only create works of limited sizes due to their heavy weight. But changes that occurred around this time were not restricted to replacing acrylic panels with canvases. The artist also started using undyed cotton fabrics, at the same time as coloring the modules using acrylic paint; ostensibly a move toward a greater degree of pictorial quality. These changes had the effect of emphasizing the expressiveness of lines. Also of note is the fact that the artist began his 〈Beam〉 series in 2007. Following the switch to canvases, his work appears to have noticeably gained in conceptual clarity, and the 〈Beam〉 series attests to this fact. The series consists of several variations on the theme “beam,” with titles such as 〈Beam〉, 〈Stroke Beam〉, and 〈Spring Beam〉.

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NAM Tchunmo, 〈Spring-Beam〉, 2019. Oil on coated fabric, 210x184x16cm.

Paintings that Reconceptualize Tradition and Augment the Expressiveness of Matter

The key elements of the 〈Beam〉 series are U-shaped units that are combined in various different ways. These units are precisely what NAM calls “beams,” which in this review are referred to as “modules.”⁴⁾ Starting in 2007, the word “beam” was also used in the titles of his works, suggesting that the artist had a clear direction in mind from this point on. Beams being basic elements of the skeletal framework of a building, this choice of word seems to suggest his intention to show only the most basic structural characteristics of lines. The various remarks made by the artist about related topics also appear to support this idea.

One thing that is also important to note here is that the English word “beam” is used in his titles, rather than a Korean word meaning “beam.” The English word “beam” is used in Korea mainly to designate beams in industrial structures. Most casual viewers associate NAM’s works with minimalist art. However, visual minimalism alone does not make a work of art minimalist. What is more essential than any visual element in minimalism is attitude. In the West, minimalism is considered a classical example of the “nachträglich” avant-garde, an artistic movement in response to “late modernism” that dominated the 1950s-1960s along with pop art. This is because minimalist artists either borrowed industrial production techniques or included everyday commodities in their art. In NAM’s case, what makes his work akin to minimalist art is his use of standardized materials and styles that are evocative of industrial structures and processes. The fact that he calls the basic units composing his works “beams” and employs methods that are reminiscent of industrial standardization seem to further echo a minimalist attitude. Meanwhile, my choice of the word “module” is also no doubt influenced by the industrial aspect of his art. The question then is: Beyond superficial similarities, is NAM a bona fide minimalist? Does he espouse the spirit and aesthetic of minimalism?

In order to be able to answer this question, one needs to dig a little further. The industrial aesthetic of Western minimalist artists stems from an anti-auteur attitude. By adopting techniques that are used in industrial production, they sought to avoid personal or direct involvement in the creation of artwork. Their goal was to prevent a work of art from becoming a unique object that reflects the individual personality of an artist. By so doing, they attempted to dismantle aesthetic beliefs that were the pillars of modernism, and more particularly, the concept of “author.” During an interview conducted in 2012, NAM made the following remark: “When I started working on my line projects using three-dimensional media after having worked mostly with two-dimensional media, I particularly focused on how to form and arrange spaces. But it seems that at the end of the day, a painter always returns to the original purity of painting.”⁵⁾ Although this was a remark made as an answer to a question regarding circumstances in which he came to use vivid colors, his mention of a return to the “original purity of painting” is nonetheless significant, as this touches something essential about who he is as an artist. Does this mean that NAM’s work is the result of a return from minimalism to modernism? The short answer is no. In my opinion, NAM’s work has always been modernist in essence. There are undeniably certain similarities between his work and minimalist art in terms of visual style. But NAM was brought to such a visual style through a journey of his own, which was in part an exploration of lines as used in traditional Korean art and in other part experimenting with the physical properties of fabrics. Rather than arising from a minimalist attitude, his work was born out of an attempt to reconceptualize tradition and augment the expressiveness of matter.

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NAM Tchunmo, 〈Stroke-Beam〉, 2012. Charcoal on paper, 57×77cm.

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NAM Tchunmo, 〈Stroke-Line〉, 2016. Charcoal on paper, 57×77cm.

NAM’s works have inherent resonances in them. Frank Stella once said about minimalism: “What you see is what you see.” Minimalism thus focuses on things themselves, thereby denying human perceptual experiences. However, in the case of NAM’s works, such things as lines drawn along the inner edges of his U-shaped modules or vivid colors igniting his canvases offer the viewer extended perceptual experiences. For example, lines created by U-shaped modules are at all times affected by the environment of the real world. When the indented shadows of the modules are cast over these lines, they add infinite varieties of expressions and produce a discreet effect of gradation, making the viewer experience a special kind of perceptual pleasure. Meanwhile, U-shaped modules, made with translucent fabric enveloped in sheer polycoat, absorb ambient light to slowly release it back in such a way as to arouse an emotional response in the viewer. This soft light reminds one of the daylight penetrating a room in a traditional Korean home, through the paper lining of a lattice door, thus also subtly awakening the soul of a nation’s past. Hence, NAM’s works are not closed upon themselves or exist only within their own physical realities, but contain in them perceptual reverberations. In this sense, one may say that his works are not physical but emotional. It is also in this sense that one must be wary of equating his art with the works of Western minimalists.

Aiôn Time: Where the Past Becomes the Future, and the Future the Past

At present, NAM is on his journey back to the past. I could clearly sense it as I stood in front of his line drawings at Leeahn Gallery. Up until the mid-1990s, NAM’s line drawings, realized either on paper or canvases, were natural and effortless and stood out for the beautiful use of empty spaces. The 〈Stroke-Line〉 series on which he continued to work through to 1996 is a fine case in point. Starting in 1997, gradual changes occurred in his line drawings. Initially, his straight lines, fluid and soft, still retained the quality of hand-drawn lines. But his straight lines soon became thin and dark, in a style that is, in fact, well suited for the new type of paper with a pale grid, reminiscent of architectural drafting paper, he started using. Shortly thereafter, in 2000, this transitional style gave way to a new highly-restrained style in which lines were thick and straight as though drawn using a marker pen. This marked the beginning of his maturity period in line drawing, in which his works showed recognizable visual similarities with minimalist art. The two-dimensional line drawing series such as 〈Stroke-Line〉, 〈Stroke Beam〉 and 〈Beam〉 begun around this time are still ongoing, featuring either thick lines looking like machine-drawn lines or circular dots. Natural hand-drawn lines or freely-drawn lines are therefore characteristics of his early two-dimensional drawings, which disappeared from his later works.

Two works that deserve a particular attention here are 〈Stroke 18-02〉 and 〈Stroke 18-03〉, both of which are from 2018. These are neither works based on U-shaped modules nor mechanical two-dimensional line drawings of his maturity period, characterized by an austere style. Lines are freely drawn in ink in various directions as though in an abstract oriental painting. These works in an abstract expressionist style would strike anyone who is not acquainted with his early line drawings as unfamiliar. Interestingly, these drawings, which are two installments of a series, reinterpret his early works to develop them in a new direction. In other words, this series summons the past.

Another noteworthy work is 〈Spring-Beam〉 (2018) in which twelve units forming a gently-sloped rounded plane are combined with a simple straight horizontal line. Unlike with his U-shaped module works in which lines are drawn along the outline of the modules, a single continuous line traverses the wide surfaces of the rounded shapes in the middle. This makes the drawing appear almost like a line drawing. In this sense, Spring-Beam may also be said to summon the past. Other works such as U-shaped module works with curved lines, which the artist says are based on his childhood memory of winding furrows of farm fields -〈Spring 0101〉 (2019), 〈Beam 0501〉 (2019) or 〈Spring 0201〉 (2019) –, and the 〈Spring Beam〉 series with its gently-sloped curved lines also evoke his early line drawings by their free flowing quality.

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NAM Tchunmo, 〈Spring 0101〉, 2019. Acrylic on coated fabric, 210×160cm.

In works like these, the past co-exists with the future. As the present continuously vanishes, NAM’s past self and his future self becomes subdivided ad infinitum and exist side-by-side. NAM’s straight lines in his maturity period are eminently mechanical. However, at present, the artist is looking for the future of these mechanical lines in their past; namely, natural and humane lines in his early drawings. In other words, the past becomes the future, and the future the past. This is how time warps so that the past and the future touch each other. This cyclical temporality is perhaps what 〈Spring-Beam〉 (2017) is about. This gigantic circular work is unlike any other works of his in that the lines have no beginning or end. There is a certain parallel between Deleuze’s aiôn time and Nietzsche’s eternal return, which in turn bears similarities to the Eastern cyclical conception of time. Could it then be possible that the artist started to envision, even if unconsciously, a cyclical type of temporality where the future connects back to the past, in around 2017?

After all, it may not be completely unreasonable to suppose that in around 2017, NAM started to draw on the past to imagine the future. At any rate, understanding how NAM’s future connects back to the past is likely to offer an important key to understanding his art.

1 NAM Tchunmo, "Artists in Nature 15: Painter NAM Tchunmo", 『Yeongnam Ilbo』, 2012. 6. 19.
2 NAM Tchunmo, "Images of Mother in My Mind’s Eye… A Relief Painting Comforting like the Furrows of Farmland in My Hometown: Interview with Artist NAM Tchunmo Currently Shown at Leeahn Gallery, Seoul,” 『Kukmin Ilbo』, 2019. 2. 6.
3 The “U-shaped module works” that NAM is best known for are made by attaching a long piece of fabric to a wooden bar and repeatedly applying thinly-diluted transparent polycoat (synthetic resin) to the fabric. When the polycoat is dry, the fabric is detached from the wooden bar and is placed on a canvas (an acrylic panel in early versions). The fabric is arranged so that the bent sections face upward, and then secured into position.
4 Excerpt from an interview with the artist conducted by KIM Seon Hee, Director of the Busan Museum of Art (“Exploration of Lines: The Hour of Light,” 『Chosun Ilbo Style』, 2014. 11. 15.
5 NAM Tchunmo, "Artists in Nature 15: Painter NAM Tchunmo", 『Yeongnam Ilbo』, 2012. 6. 19.

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