1. Thus
There is a painting that began with a misunderstanding. If there is a painting that can only be created when one is enlightened and fulfilled with the understanding, Jang Seungkeun’s paintings stem from doubts and a sense of lack. From what I don’t know, from things I thought I knew but never will, in other words, Jang’s paintings begin in the space between knowing and not knowing, understanding (理解) and misunderstanding (誤解). The reason for juxtaposing the Chinese characters of the two words is to emphasize that his gestures on paper or canvas are closer to mistakes (誤) or the act of managing (理). To be more precise, it could be said that his works are both mistakes and managing acts at the same time. However, the reason for not seeing them as two opposing traits is that Jang’s work chooses to navigate in between the two rather than occupying one. Therefore, at least in this text, words that may sound contradictory will be expressed with the connotation of their natural association. No matter how distant, words and sentences linked by phrases such as “so,” “and,” and “therefore” seems to connect with each other in the end.
The reason for this lengthy introduction before discussing the formal aspects of Jang’s painting is that I wish to address the personal narrative embedded in his work. The artist’s persistent interest in opposing and contradictory things that would ultimately meet stems from his own family history. There were repeated conflicts out of drastic differences between the artist and his parents, but his effort to overcome this conflict did not leave the misfortune as is. From this process, Jang developed an attitude of accepting and embracing the shortcomings of others or situations that are difficult to clearly define. For the artist, the gaps between individuals and objects, situations and landscapes are not causes of rupture but agencies that encourage connection. So, we could say that his paintings began with a misunderstanding.
2. And
The events that occur in Jang’s life and the subjects he encounters are mostly collected through spontaneous drawings or photographs. The collected images are then transferred onto the canvas, another support structure, and creates a by-product that is both newly added and cast off. He depicts his subject with quick, compressed brushstrokes as to gather all fragmentary elements into one. And until the completion of the work, he either leaves or re-emphasizes the lines and sketches that initially functioned as traces of the process. This is a selective and deliberate act of conveying the movement of one’s observation, and the impression of a moment experienced at one point with the materiality of paint. The vividness felt in Jang’s paintings, such as the flowers that seem freshly placed in a vase, the brush that looks just laid down, or the eyes that seem recently met, all originate from these traces of lines. The fleeting moments of the transient subjects captured in his paintings always contain the potential for change.
Meanwhile, Jang as a painting subject establishes a certain relationship with the painted subjects such as people, objects, and landscapes thorough the medium of painting. The loose and taut relationship of the actual subject and the painter is naturally imbued in the painterly gestures. His eyes off the canvas to which the brush is directed, his gaze navigates the outer surface and also the inner structure of the painted subject. Then he strikes a line and builds a plane that may seem like an incorrect depiction. And, by chance, or perhaps naturally, the outline drawn precisely along the surface of the subject slowly manages or contains what he observes. Jang’s gesture and brushstrokes traverse the picture plane within the waves of tension and relaxation, in the method of putting what is distant and nearby in close vicinity.
Among the subjects captured in Jang’s paintings, the ones that form the most intimate relationship are the tools such as brushes, paint, and canvas. These are not merely tools accompanying the act of painting but have served as bridges connecting the artist with the external world. The brush held in his hand guides the subject that he sees into another realm, a realm where forms are generated or disappear. At this point, the surface of the canvas becomes the "site of contact"[1] where he and the world meet through materials. The gaze toward the external world, the silent dialogue exchanged with the subject, finally gains a "form" through lines and surfaces.
After painting a scene of his studio where various forms are created, Jang titled the work as A Painter (2024). As extensions of the artist’s gaze and action, the tools for “painting” and the completed “painting” expand the areas where the eyes and hands of the “painter” rest. As if something he left behind in that place continues to live on, Jang continues to paint. Now, the tools for painting, the painted subject, and the painter all look at each other with the same face as if they are looking in the mirror.
3. Therefore
In his recent works, Jang has been more active in depicting the people around him. He would portray his reflection as his mother was cutting his hair, the gaze of his father photographing this very scene, and the faces of his fellow artists. When Jang paints something he doesn’t know, his painting becomes more honest. As if confessing the fact of "not knowing," his paintings gradually move from the strangeness found in familiar subjects towards a stronger feeling of unfamiliarity.
[1] This is a direct transcription of the expression used by the artist in our conversation on March 15, 2024.
[2] John Berger, Yves Berger, Over to You, translated by Shin Hye-kyung (Paju: Yeolhwadang, 2021), p.33. From a letter from Yves Berger to John Berger.

