Korean artist Lee Jinju’s debut Hong Kong exhibition features 23 new pieces

It is hard to pull away from Korean artist Lee Jinju’s “Black Paintings”. Faces, body parts and other objects, painted realistically with the finest of brushstrokes, loom out from what appears to be total and utter darkness. Rooted in centuries-old “East Asian painting” techniques that she trained in as an adolescent, Lee’s paintings are both traditional and contemporary. Take the portrayal of hands, a recurring motif in her pieces. They are rendered with extraordinary detail, such as faint traces of blue and red veins beneath the skin, individual hairs, and subtle folds of flesh. But just as important as the fine details is what we cannot see, Lee says. “An element that I hope the viewers can think about is what are the things that are hidden, obscured and even repressed beneath the black background,” she says at her debut Hong Kong exhibition, called “No Ground”. Lee’s practice captured widespread international attention during the 2023 Frieze Seoul art fair, where her paintings were presented by Seoul-based Arario Gallery in the main fair and also in a major exhibition at SongEun Art Space. It was during the fair that the director of Shanghai’s Yuz Museum, Justine Alexandria Tek, came across Lee’s work. The Hong Kong exhibition is presented by Yuz Museum as part of its off-site programming called “Yuz Flow”. “No Ground” features 23 new artworks by Lee, including new “Black Paintings” as well as other series that feature her paintings on fabric and shaped canvases. And then there is the pièce de résistance: a new, four-metre-long (13-foot) scroll painting that gave the exhibition its title. No Ground (2024) represents Lee’s latest experimentation with the traditional Korean hwaenggwon form. Similar in style to Chinese scroll paintings, it invites viewers to move along the direction of the painting, to read its story or come up with their own narrative. Two androgenous figures, who could be the same person, are seen with their backs to the viewer, making their way through a snowy landscape. Two other figures lie on the icy ground in a tight embrace, largely hidden from view by a boulder bearing the name of a village in Korea. Jarringly, there are discarded rinds of a summer fruit, watermelon, on the ground. Contradictions and incongruities are our reality, Lee says. “I feel like this world is, in fact, quite unstable. What I’m expressing here is more about my subjective and psychological perspective on the world, which, rather than a logical context, is incomplete and fragmented,” she says. What is constant, however, is Lee’s dedication to “East Asian painting” – as it is known in South Korea. She majored in the art genre when she was a student at Seoul’s Hongik University, which is known for its prestigious fine art department, and is a professor at the university today. The term “East Asian painting” is a distinctly Korean one, as is its concept. The terminology stuck after the Japanese colonial government used it in the early 20th century. It is still used in South Korea to flexibly refer to both traditional Korean paintings and those of broader East Asia, including China and Japan. Compared with guohua in China and nihonga in Japan, Lee says the Korean-style “East Asian painting”, at least when it comes to portraiture, sits somewhere in-between. “When it comes to portraiture, Chinese painting often uses the gongbi style, which is highly detailed and precise in depicting facial features. Japanese paintings, on the other hand, tend to be more stylised and often employ a muted palette. Korean art occupies a more naturalistic middle ground,” she says. “I naturally fell in love with East Asian painting because I was drawn to its materiality – the texture is so rich and it feels wonderful to work with.” Lee says that the East Asian paints she uses for her work seep into the surface while simultaneously emerging from it. Instead of building up thick layers of paint, there are multiple layers of tones and colours that blend and soak into the surface. As a result, the colours emerge subtly, creating a soft, almost ethereal effect. “The colour feels like it fades in and out, but at the same time, it revives and creates a soft effect. This is achieved by gently wiping with water, a technique known as barim in Korean,” she says. This technique and surface treatment are particularly well-suited for capturing the essence of the subject, Lee says. She refers to the Korean theory of portraiture called jeon sin sa jo, which asserts that when painting a portrait, one must depict not only the external appearance of the subject but also their character and inner world. In practice, this means paying extraordinary attention to even the finest details, such as the individual strands of hair. “For example, if we think of the royal portraits from the Joseon dynasty, the paintings of the king’s likeness, called eojin, are incredibly detailed and intricate. In fact, these portraits are so finely rendered that from a medical perspective, one could even study the skin conditions of people from that era.” Lee’s fascination with traditional art did not lead her to simply replicate the works of her ancestors. “I’ve always wanted to create my own art and engage with contemporary art as I experience it today. I wasn’t particularly interested in tradition for its own sake,” she says. The signature black matt paint used in her “Black Paintings” series is a special one created by her husband, Lee Jungbae, who is also an artist. The paint, reminiscent of Anish Kapoor’s Vantablack, is called Lee Jungbae Black. When asked what materials her husband used to create a black of such depth, Lee grins and says it is a well-kept secret. Almost all of her canvases are also custom-made by her husband to fit the subject and message she hopes to convey. “Since everything visible is an important element of the artwork, even the canvas itself is treated with great care, almost as a fragmentary element of the painting,” she says. Outside Korea, she has primarily exhibited in the West. “Audiences in places like the United States, Paris and Berlin have been very enthusiastic. They love the distinguishing characteristics of East Asian painting, compared to what they are used to seeing. So I am curious to how people in Hong Kong will respond.” “Lee Jinju: No Ground”, Yuz Flow: Project Space of Art, Unit 01, 20/F, Landmark South, 39 Yip Kan Street, Wong Chuk Hang, Hong Kong.

Korean artist Lee Jinju’s debut Hong Kong exhibition features 23 new pieces

New ‘Black Paintings’ are among works at Hong Kong’s Yuz Flow by Lee Jinju, who uses traditional art techniques to convey contemporary ideas