Room-filling immersive media art, once a groundbreaking sensation in the art world, has shed its novelty. As projection-based exhibitions featuring icons like Gustav Klimt, Vincent van Gogh and Claude Monet pop up seemingly everywhere, the sheer experiential spectacle alone is no longer enough to guarantee a boost in ticket sales.
That said, these Instagrammable, technology-driven shows aren't going anywhere anytime soon. Their format does indeed make art viewing far less intimidating; no prior knowledge of the artist is necessary to enjoy the whole experience. And when done right, they can cast a light on a painter's work in unexpected ways, drawing the attention of even the most unlikely audiences to their oeuvre long after the curtain comes down.
"Lee Ungno: A Great Artistic Journey, Seoul-Paris" at the Theatre des Lumieres in Grand Walkerhill Seoul is one of them.
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This 14-minute segment, part of an hourlong program, follows a 35-minute showcase of Dutch masters ranging from Vermeer to van Gogh. Yet, despite its shorter duration, it carries far greater impact than its much-celebrated counterpart.
First, there's a sense of freshness to it. This marks the first time the fervent brushwork of Korean modernist Lee Ung-no (1904-89) has come alive digitally on such a scale. Over 100 of his paintings and calligraphic pieces, sourced from the Lee Ungno Museum's collection, are animated lavishly across the floors and walls of the former luxury cabaret rising up to 21 meters high.
The painter's dynamic ink brushstrokes, which blend Eastern and Western artistic traditions in a myriad of unexpected visual experiments, are a perfect match for the spectacle of immersive media art — a format designed to captivate every wandering eye and ear, leaving no room for a moment of boredom.
The psychedelic sensorium brings Lee's creative odyssey to life against popping soundscapes.
While his artistic journey began with Korean literati brushwork, his move to France in 1958 at the age of 54 ignited a bold exploration of the European Art Informel style — but infused with his distinct Eastern calligraphic sensibilities.
He embraced both the calligraphic heritage of Korea and the energy of Western abstraction — spanning from semi-3D paper collages, crafted with crumpled "hanji" (traditional Korean mulberry paper) and newspapers, to the groundbreaking "Abstract Letter" series.
In this series, ancient Chinese characters and Hangeul (Korean alphabets) were deconstructed into purely geometric, aesthetic building blocks, without retaining any association with their original meaning.
Among the feverishly dancing letters in the exhibition is "Composition" (late 1970s), a brightly-colored, abstract family portrait of three, whose shape is inspired by the Chinese character for "good" (好).
The climax of the all-engrossing, synesthetic show unfolds with Lee's tour de force "Gunsang" (People) series. Swarms of inky, faceless humans fill the entire room, their arms stretched toward the sky, torsos arched, leaping and running in a chaotic dance of movement.
Created in response to the 1980 pro-democracy Gwangju Uprising — a tragic chapter of Korea's modern history that deeply affected the painter, who himself endured political persecution during an era of ideological polarization — his figures seem locked in a perpetual state of angst, fury or joy.
"My paintings changed drastically at one point," he once remarked. "People started pouring into my art. From then on, I dedicated the last decade of my life solely to painting people."
Overall, "A Great Artistic Journey, Seoul-Paris" can be a striking and intuitive overture to a deeper dive into Lee's oeuvre — an overture, not an epilogue. For those whose curiosity has been piqued, the next recommended destination is the Lee Ungno Museum in Daejeon.