[Gallery Walk] At 83, Lee Kangso Still Does Not Believe in "Completion"

Lee Kangso Solo Exhibition "Arising and Vanishing" Opens at Lotte Museum on August 21

Over 20 "Ghost Sculptures" Draped in Cloth and 30 "Throwing Sculptures" on Display... Unseen Works Included

First Unveiling of New Works on Mulberry Paper

You go to see the artworks, and yet you are not allowed to see them. In one section of the Lotte Museum's exhibition hall in Jamsil, Seoul, about twenty sculptures rest on metal shelves, covered with white and yellowish fabric. These are the so-called 'ghost sculptures,' a display that recreates how Lee Kangso (83) used to store his works in his own studio. Only corners and fragments peek out from beneath the cloth. Unable to identify what lies beneath, viewers are drawn to them even more. At this large-scale solo exhibition featuring over 150 pieces, the works that arouse the most curiosity are actually seen the least.

At the Lotte Museum's exhibition "Lee Kangso: Arising and Vanishing," so-called "ghost sculptures" covered with cloth are displayed alongside the artist's tools, photographs, and video materials. Lee Kangso transferred the method of storing sculptures from his actual studio to the exhibition space. Photo by Chanwoo Park, Lotte Museum

Opening on August 21, "Lee Kangso: Arising and Vanishing" spans paintings, sculptures, installations, prints, photographs, and videos, encapsulating half a century of the artist's work. Given that major solo exhibitions on Lee Kangso have recently been held at the National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art and the Daegu Art Museum, simply presenting "60 Years of Korea's Master of Experimental Art" is not enough. Instead, this exhibition draws attention to the way Lee has persistently left his works unresolved. He throws clay, leaves canvases blank, sometimes lets chickens leave traces, and covers even finished sculptures with cloth.

The exhibition introduces this question in a notably clever way. At the entrance, a representative painting "Cheongmyeong" greets visitors—not as the original canvas, but as a life-sized LED screen. The screen is reflected in a facing mirror. You quickly lose track of what’s a real artwork, what’s an image rendered in light, and what’s a mirrored reflection. Right at the outset, the exhibition subtly widens the gap between reality and image, between what is seen and what is believed—questions that Lee has engaged with for decades.

The thirty or so 'Throwing Sculptures' displayed soon after are much more physical. Instead of shaping raw clay by hand into something smooth, Lee throws it into the air. As it falls to the floor, the clay is flattened and collides unpredictably with other masses, forming shapes no one could have anticipated. Lee's intervention ends with the act of throwing; at that point, speed, gravity, and collision take over. Not a single sculpture is ever the same, even when the gesture is repeated.

In front of his paintings, the pace slows. On broad canvases, a few brushstrokes of ink-black and gray sweep across, leaving large open spaces. From a distance, you may imagine ducks, boats, or deer, but up close, the forms dissolve and only the diffused paint and the traces of the brush's speed remain. Finding a duck does not mean you have fully grasped the work; failing to find anything is not a defeat either. Lee never specifies what exactly is to be found in his art.

The exhibition hall at Lotte Museum where Kangso Lee's representative series of paintings is displayed. Through forms reminiscent of ducks, pears, and deer, open spaces, and swift brushstrokes, the artist showcases the pictorial experiments he has pursued since the 1980s. Photo by Chanwoo Park, Lotte Museum

For the first time in this exhibition, he reveals new works involving mulberry paper and ink, prompting viewers to contemplate the artist's age more than the materials themselves. Having spent decades with canvas and acrylic, Lee—now eighty-three—has chosen a new surface and new materiality. For an artist who has painted for so long, proficiency is an asset but can also become the most dangerous habit. Lee’s concept of 'experiment,' as he has described it, appears less about inventing ever-new shapes and more about resisting the moment when the hand begins to move on its own out of routine.

This approach has changed little since the 1970s. At the 1975 Paris Biennale, he left a chicken to wander over plaster powder, making the animal’s footprints the artwork. "Yobaek," which brought reeds from the banks of the Nakdong River into the gallery, has now been paired with mirrors on either side, transforming them into a reed field that appears to stretch much farther than the actual space allows. These were times when the artist focused less on things he created, and more on the fleeting events that arose and vanished within a particular place.

His most famous work was his first solo show, "Extinction," in 1973. At the time, thirty-year-old Lee replaced paintings at the Myeongdong Gallery with the battered tables, chairs, and glasses of a pub, serving makgeolli to visitors. The relationships and experiences formed as people drank and conversed became the artwork. In the current exhibition, rather than reconstructing the old tavern as a relic, a traditional wooden platform has been installed, inviting visitors to sit and converse.

Lee Kangso's 'Throwing Sculpture,' which accepts the form created by gravity and collision as the soil is thrown into the air, is placed in the exhibition hall. It shows the artist's sculptural world that emphasizes chance and process over control. Photo by Park Chanwoo, Lotte Museum

Yet the shock of 53 years ago cannot be fully recaptured. In today’s museums, visitor participation and lounge areas are already familiar. While these facilitate understanding the historical significance of past works, they fall short of the strangeness created by the then-unprecedented "exhibition with no paintings." This highlights the difficulty of re-presenting Lee Kangso’s early experiments today. Reproducing the form is not the same as reviving those questions in the present tense.

In this regard, the second half of the exhibition is far more engaging. Between the large brushes, cameras, photographs, and records brought from Lee’s actual studio, the 'ghost sculptures' reappear. The retrospective timeline, once dedicated solely to completed works, suddenly shifts to the artist's working hours. The tools bear the marks of repeated handling, while the sculptures draped in cloth seem to still be awaiting their turn to be revealed. The aim is to showcase 150 completed pieces, but nearing the end, even the concept of "completion" grows increasingly ambiguous.

On this day, Lee Kangso described the central question driving his work: "How do you encounter the unexpected?"

At the end of the exhibition space, you once again face those sculptures hidden beneath cloth. What exactly they are remains unknown. That is precisely where the artist has chosen to stop. Just as he surrendered the clay to gravity and left parts of his paintings blank, this time he has left the rest to the viewers. It is how his experiments continue at eighty-three.

The exhibition runs through November 1 at the Lotte Museum. Admission for adults is 20,000 won.

This content was produced with the assistance of AI translation services.