Shin Hak-chul holds up a piece titled "The Future is Coming" during an interview in his studio, March 1. Courtesy of Jack Greenberg

At a time when South Korean art increasingly pivots toward globalized art fairs and market-friendly abstraction, the work of Shin Hak-chul stands apart: raw, unflinching and deeply rooted in the painful history, struggles and aspirations of the Korean people.

Two current exhibitions offer rare insight into Shin's artistic journey in a career spanning over six decades. The major retrospective, "Shin Hak-chul: A Montage of the Times," serves as the 2024 Democracy, Human Rights and Peace Exhibition at the Gwangju Museum of Art, running until March 30. Meanwhile, the Baek Ki-wan Madang-jib in Seoul's Daehangno hosts a more intimate exhibition, "Shin Hak-chul Calls Baek Ki-wan," on view until Aug. 15, marking the 80th anniversary of Korea's liberation.

Shin Hak-cheol's "Saedduk-i," Oil on Wood (2003), on display at Baek Ki-wan Madang-jip in Seoul. "Saedduk-i" is a uniquely Korean term coined by Baek Ki-wan to describe an individual who dismantles existing barriers and ushers in a new era. Courtesy of Jack Greenberg

Born in Gimcheon, a rural town in North Gyeongsang Province, Shin's early years are steeped in nostalgia, as he fondly recalls a time when communities lived in close harmony, solving life's challenges through shared effort and quiet resilience. His childhood shaped his deep appreciation for the textures of nature: plum flowers in bloom, the soft mud of rice paddies and the earth's offerings cradled in his hands.

When he later moved to the outskirts of Seoul, the contrast between the city's sprawl and the simplicity of village life struck him profoundly — a tension that would become a recurring motif in his work, blending memories of rural tranquility with the jarring realities of Korea's rapid industrialization and modernization.

In 1964, Shin entered Hongik University, one of the country's most prestigious art schools. There, he received formal training in plaster casts, nude drawing and Western-style figurative painting. However, by his third year, tensions within the department led him and several classmates to break away from formal instruction, studying independently in their own studio. This freedom allowed Shin to pursue experimental practices, setting him apart from peers who adhered to the prevailing ideals of "pure art."

By 1970, with the ascent of Dansaekhwa — the aesthetic of monochromatic abstraction — Shin embraced avant-garde approaches. In a recent interview with The Korea Times, he remarked that while he never set out to be a political artist, he believed art should engage with reality and convey a message.

This philosophy took shape through his use of found objects — plant roots, thorny branches and spring sprouts — tied to the canvas with string. As his compositions grew more complex, he turned to photographs, recognizing their potential to efficiently convey the many stories he wanted to tell. His practice was inspired by Robert Rauschenberg's early collage and silkscreen works.

Shin's refusal to separate art from reality made him an outsider — both at Hongik and within the broader Korean art community, which was heavily influenced by the university. Over time, however, this outsider identity became a defining feature of his practice — one he fully embraced.

Shin began with widely available women's magazines, using their glossy images in his collages to reflect the rise of mass consumption and materialism. He viewed Park Chung-hee's Yushin regime beginning in 1972 as a time of darkness, and his work shifted as the military dictatorship under Chun Doo-hwan tightened its grip in the 1980s. Moving beyond magazines, Shin incorporated historical photographs, including those of taboo events and subjects, to challenge the oppressive political climate. These photos served as undeniable evidence, silent witnesses to the suffering the powers that be denied.

When Shin held his first solo exhibition in 1982, he was not affiliated with any emerging Minjung art groups. His representative work, "Korean Modern History," reflected his personal interpretation of the nation's historical trajectory, shaped by his independent research and efforts to understand the realities of the Chun Doo-hwan regime. The exhibition brought him wider exposure, connecting him to the people's art movement.

Minjung art, however, was not a term Shin and his peers initially embraced — it was a label imposed by the anti-communist state, branding artists as dangerous or subversive. Shin's work embodied the national sentiment. It upholds the very spirit and struggles of the Korean people who fought for freedom under the 1910-45 Japanese occupation, only to face national division after liberation, the devastation of war and the repression of a military government that prioritized industrial development and economic growth above all else. It visualized the pain of the oppressed, the courage of ordinary people and the brutal realities of state violence.

Retrospective in Gwangju

It is fitting that Shin's most expansive retrospective in recent years is being held in Gwangju, the symbolic heart of Korea's pro-democracy struggle. The exhibition brings together works scattered across different institutional and private collections to trace the full arc of his career.

Shin Hak-chul discusses "Korean Contemporary History – Gapsooni and Gapdoli" (1998-2002) during an interview in his studio, March 1. Courtesy of Jack Greenberg

Among the works on display is "Korean Contemporary History – Gapsooni and Gapdoli" (1998-2002), first exhibited at the 2002 Gwangju Biennale. Spanning 20 meters, it presents a sweeping visual timeline capturing four decades of Korean life through a dense tapestry of images and symbols. Shin recalled working on it piece by piece on the floor, and when he finally laid it out in full and climbed onto a chair to view it from above, he was struck by just how much had unfolded between 1950 and 1990 — a period shaped by the relentless forces of militarism and materialism. Faced with this overwhelming convergence of energies, he left the narrative open-ended, unsure of its ultimate direction.

Another key work, "Rice Planting" (1987), became the subject of a National Security Law case after authorities accused Shin of glorifying North Korea. Created for a unification-themed exhibition in 1987, organized by a grassroots artists' collective known as Minmihyeop, the concept for the work originated from a photograph Shin found of farmers preparing rice paddies — a process that involves leveling the fields and removing debris. The image stirred memories of his own village, which he remembered as a kind of utopia.

Shin Hak-chul discusses "Rice Planting" (1987) during an interview in his studio, March 1. Courtesy of Jack Greenberg

Shin explained that the lower half of the painting features symbols of pollution and corruption — elements that, in his view, conflicted with traditional Korean values and needed to be discarded. In contrast, the upper half envisions the joy of unification, with the peoples of the two Koreas coming together. In the background, Mount Paektu stands tall, a sacred symbol of shared identity.

The version on display is a recreation that Shin produced in 1993. The original remains damaged and is still held by the prosecution, though it was eventually transferred to the National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art (MMCA) for safekeeping. The fate of the original serves as a reminder that, for Shin, imagining a unified future remains fraught with limitations. North and South are locked in opposition, and within this ongoing division, any attempt to depict Korea as a whole feels inherently fragmented. For Shin, the division is not just a political rupture, but a deep psychological and historical wound — one that distorts how Koreans see themselves, their past, and each other.

Shin and Baek Ki-wan: A bond of art and activism

While the Gwangju retrospective reflects the breadth of Shin's oeuvre and his lifelong commitment to documenting Korea's modern struggles, a smaller exhibition offers a more personal view — focusing on his relationship with the legendary social activist and writer Baek Ki-wan (1933-2021). The two men met amid Shin's ongoing legal battles over "Rice Planting," at a time when state authorities continued to target him under the National Security Law. Baek, known for his relentless commitment to democracy, unification and pure Korean language, saw in Shin a kindred spirit — an artist who spoke not through speeches, but through images that conveyed the spirit and strength of ordinary people.

The exhibition not only highlights their shared political ideals but also celebrates the deep bond of friendship they forged. In addition to collaborating on illustrations for projects such as "White Paper Boat" — Baek's serialized novel in Kyunghyang Shinmun — Shin frequently created artworks for Baek, whether to support fundraising efforts for the causes he championed or as personal gifts. Baek's philosophy of "Nonamegi" — "a world where you work and I work, you live well and I live well, but we live well together" — became a guiding principle for Shin, who regarded Baek as an almost spiritual figure and admired his reverence for art, which he treated with the same care as his own body.

Unfinished Struggles

Though Shin's work reflects on the past, it remains equally engaged with the present and future. He remains deeply critical of the enduring influence of pro-Japanese collaborators, the erosion of democracy under the Yoon Suk Yeol administration and the commodification of art, which he believes strips it of its social purpose. Yet he also finds hope in movements like the 2016-17 candlelight protests and the public outcry following Yoon's Dec. 3 martial law declaration — moments that remind him the energy of the people, the very force that animates his work, is not only alive but growing stronger.

At 81, Shin shows no signs of slowing down in his artistic pursuits. He plans to continue his monumental "Korean Contemporary History – Gapsooni and Gapdoli" piece, expanding it to reflect the present day. Additionally, he aims to complete his "Korean Modern History" series, with new works focused on the April 1960 Revolution and the 1980 Gwangju Uprising. He is also working on a piece addressing the Kanto Earthquake in Japan, in which Koreans became victims of mob violence, and intends to explore other global issues, such as systemic racism in the United States.

Shin Hak-chul shows a piece he is currently working on inspired by the 1980 Gwangju Uprising, part of his "Korean Modern History" series, at his studio, March 1. Courtesy of Jack Greenberg

At a time when history is often sanitized, forgotten or distorted, and art is too frequently reduced to luxury commodities, Shin's work serves as a powerful reminder of art's true purpose: to bear witness, provoke thought and ensure that the stories of ordinary people are never erased. These two exhibitions make it clear that Shin's art is not just about the past; it is a living document of the present and future. Each piece preserves memory, insists on bearing witness and demands that the perseverance of ordinary people — from the independence fighters of the colonial period to today's laborers and protesters — are recognized both creatively and faithfully.

Shin will give a talk at the Gwangju Museum of Art on March 14 at 3 p.m. Pre-registration is required and can be done online at artmuse.gwangju.go.kr.

Jack Greenberg works as a consultant, researcher and freelance writer. His current focus is on heritage and conservation issues, historical memory debates, truth-seeking and reconciliation and civilian massacres of the 1950-53 Korean War. He was the recipient of the Global Korea Scholarship and earned a master's in international studies at Korea University. He is also an alum of McGill University.