Installation view of Lee Kang-so's solo exhibition, "Where the Wind Meets the Water," at the National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, Korea (MMCA) in central Seoul / Courtesy of MMCA

The 1960s and 1970s were nothing short of a whirlwind for the post-war Korean art scene.

During a period when the authoritarian Park Chung-hee government relentlessly pursued high-speed industrialization, a wave of young creators sought to escape the confines of this rigid socioeconomic structure. Distancing themselves from the style of their artistic predecessors, they aimed to forge their own language of creative resistance and subversion, responding agilely to the tumultuous times.

Among the prominent voices in this spirited scene was Lee Kang-so.

Lee and other coming-of-age provocateurs took inspiration from modern Western movements like Neo-Dada and conceptual art. Yet, they focused on reimagining these influences so that their avant-garde practices could respond to distinctly local concerns — namely, military dictatorship, state censorship and the pressures of breakneck economic growth.

What emerged as a result was a genre-defying mix of performances, ephemeral happenings, videos, photography and installations made with scavenged objects — all of which came to be known as "silheom misul," or experimental art.

This relatively obscure chapter of Korea's 20th-century art history was thrust into the international spotlight when the Guggenheim in New York hosted "Only the Young: Experimental Art in Korea, 1960s-1970s" in 2023. The show, co-organized with the National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, Korea (MMCA), was the first North American museum exhibition dedicated to this movement.

"Where the Wind Meets the Water," Lee's newly-opened retrospective at the MMCA Seoul, sheds light on his five-decade philosophy. Spanning from his experimental performances of the 1970s to his recent brushworks and sculptures, the exhibition turns to his enduring focus on stepping back as a creator to let materials and viewers shape the artistic experience, regardless of medium.

Artist Lee Kang-so attends his newly-opened retrospective "Where the Wind Meets the Water" at the MMCA Seoul. Newsis

Provocative beginnings

Early in his career, Lee set out to take a not-so-subtle jab at what he saw as the outdated ideology of the established art circle and push the boundaries of artmaking. With a flair for provocation, he shook up the pristine white-cube spaces in his own style.

In 1971, he staged a memorial service inside a gallery as his "final farewell" to outworn modern art ("A Sacrifice for the Modern Art"). Two years later, for his first solo show, he transformed Seoul's Myongdong Gallery into a lively tavern serving "makgeolli," or Korean rice wine ("Disappearance — Bar in the Gallery"). This work, which relied entirely on audience participation to recreate a fleeting moment of everyday life, was groundbreaking at the time.

Then, for the 1975 Paris Biennale, he brought a live chicken and let it wander over a floor dusted with powdered chalk ("Untitled-75031"). By the time the exhibition opened, only the traces of the animal's white footprints remained, inviting visitors to imagine its presence on their own.

In 1973, for his first solo exhibition at Myongdong Gallery, the young Lee Kang-so transformed the entire Seoul gallery into a bustling tavern serving makgeolli, or Korean rice wine. Courtesy of MMCA

For the 1975 Paris Biennale, Lee Kang-so brought a live chicken and let it wander over a floor dusted with powdered chalk. By the time the exhibition opened, only the traces of the animal's white footprints remained, inviting visitors to imagine its presence on their own. Courtesy of MMCA

After experimenting with these unconventional performances, Lee made an intriguing return to age-old mediums like painting and sculpture in the 1980s.

But while his choice of medium has ranged widely over the years — performance, video, photography, painting, print, sculpture and installation — a consistent philosophical thread runs through his oeuvre: a deep skepticism of our modern inclination to separate self from world and to regard the artist as a solitary, autonomous creator.

It's a heady concept, so let's take a step back. For the 81-year-old, the universe — with its humans, non-humans and inanimate beings — is a dynamic web of interaction, where each entity continuously shapes and reacts to the energy of others.

"All persons and beings exist as ever-changing particles and waves of the universe, ceaselessly influencing one another," he has often stated, drawing on both the ancient East Asian philosophy of "qi" and, interestingly, quantum mechanics.

So, why draw a line between self and the external world when all existences are interconnected on a microscopic level? And how can an artist claim to exist as an independent creator when he is constantly shaped by his surroundings?

In his view, art isn't an isolated declaration by the creator but rather a dynamic, co-created moment, shaped by both the environment and those who encounter it.

A visitor takes a look at Lee Kang-so's "Serenity-16181" (2016) at the MMCA Seoul. Newsis

This belief underpins Lee's entire approach to artmaking.

Rather than positioning himself in the absolute foreground to express an immutable image, he allows his materials — whether paint, brush, canvas, clay or animals — speak for themselves. He also leaves space for viewers to complete each piece through their own physical interaction or mental engagement, thus transforming art into a shared experience with multiple interpretive possibilities.

"While I can't completely avoid expressing myself, I try to minimize it as much as possible," he said during a press preview at the museum. "My works are ever-shifting illusions, coming into being in one moment and dissipating the next in the eyes of the beholder. I only hope for each person to decide, feel and experience their own version."

In his experimental video work, "Painting 78-1," Lee Kang-so placed a glass pane in front of the camera and began applying one brushstroke after another onto its surface. With each added stroke, more of his own body was obscured from the camera's view. Newsis

Erasing artist's presence

The MMCA's "Where the Wind Meets the Water" is a fitting place to trace how Lee's philosophy has evolved across different mediums throughout his career.

First came the literal "erasure" of his presence as an artist in his craft.

In his 1978 experimental video work, "Painting 78-1," Lee positioned a glass pane in front of the camera and began applying one brushstroke after another onto its surface. With each added stroke, more of his own body was obscured from the camera's view. As the "painting" neared completion, the artist himself gradually disappeared.

"The video shows, in a remarkably intuitive way, how a creator is attempting to relinquish his vested authority and ego within the work," MMCA curator Lee Soo-yon noted.

Rather than carving the materials himself, Lee repeatedly throws lumps of clay and terracotta onto the floor. It isn't the artist's intention alone that gives shape to these sculptures; his inner state interacts with the external environment to bring each piece into being. Korea Times photo by Park Han-sol

This effort to minimize his involvement and allow materials to take precedence is evident in his sculptures, which he refers to as "sculptures made by themselves."

Rather than carving the materials himself, Lee repeatedly throws lumps of clay and terracotta onto the floor. As a result, it isn't the artist's intention alone that gives shape to these sculptures; his inner state interacts with the external environment — gravity, temperature, humidity and spatial constraints — to bring each piece into being.

And in his two-dimensional paintings, his desire to step back and restrain his presence prompts viewers to complete the rest of the picture with their bodies and imagination.

Lee Kang-so's "Untitled-911193" (1991) / Courtesy of MMCA

His spectral images, layered with abstract calligraphic strokes, often feature motifs that are just recognizable enough to suggest the shapes of ducks, deer, houses and boats. In one 3-meter-long centerpiece, "Untitled-911193," a faceless deer appears in overlapping, successive forms. The fact that multiple moments of its existence seem to be fused into a single frame makes it hard to take one's eyes off of it.

Lee's goal here is not to render such motifs with realistic precision. Rather, it is his attempt to symbolically capture the ever-pulsating force of energy, or "qi," present within all entities in the universe. Once that invisible essence is brought to the canvas, the rest is up to the viewer.

"Where the Wind Meets the Water" runs through April 13, 2025 at the MMCA Seoul.

Following powerhouse art dealer Thaddaeus Ropac's announcement in September that Lee had joined its roster, the artist will have his first exhibit at the London-headquartered gallery's Seoul outpost next spring.

Lee Kang-so's "Disappearance — Bar in the Gallery" (1973) has been newly enacted and staged at the MMCA Seoul, five decades after its creation. Newsis