Su A Chae
Su A Chae is a South Korean visual artist, currently based in the Midwestern United States. She received an MFA in painting from Indiana University Bloomington as well as an MA and a BA in Business from Ewha Womans University in Seoul, South Korea. She attended a painting workshop at Penland School of Craft as a recipient of the Higher Education Partner Program (HEPP) Scholarship. She also completed the Tyler School of Art Summer Painting & Sculpture Intensive in Philadelphia. Her work has been exhibited at the Painting Center in New York, Icebox Project Space in Philadelphia, Harrison Center for the Art in Indianapolis, Indiana University and Ivy Tech John Waldron Arts Center in Bloomington, and will be presented virtually through Young Space. Her work has been profiled in Studio Visit Magazine, Volume 43 and will be included in Volume 45/46.
Statement
By approaching painting from the both perspectives of a meticulous accountant or auditor and a self-expressing creator, I examine the ambivalence associated with identity and asymmetrical balance to create a paradoxical space. The stripes, grids and repeated patterns in my paintings serve as a vehicle for addressing of separation, interference, confrontation, and tension, as well as a structural framework, not unlike an account book. The checkerboard fence or gate acts as a physical, psychological or cultural barrier that I have experienced since I moved to the United States. The optical illusions created by shifting, refracting, and interposing the patterns or pictorial space often imply the struggles for social adaptation with alienness. The tension and ambiguity created by the juxtaposition of opposites, such as the interior and the exterior and the micro and the macro, interrogates what it is what we see and it opens up the discourse of human possibility, diversity, and coexistence.
Interview with Su A Chae
Questions by Charles Burns
I read that you were an accountant for ten years in South Korea. At first glance, art and accounting seem like very different things. Is this true? Does your experience as an accountant inform your work?
Enumerating my education is not actually what I want to begin with (it is a bit boring to read all education stuffs, isn’t it?) but I need to give some specific information of my education and experience to answer this question. I obtained an USCPA (The United States Certified Public Accountant) certificate in 2003 one year after I completed my master’s program in business (focused on accounting). I taught accounting courses at several colleges and companies from 2004, the same year that I started my Ph. D program in accounting as well. I moved to the U.S. in 2010. Therefore, I would say that I had been involved in accounting for ten years (technically 15 years), mostly in academic settings.
I am sure that you may not be the only person who thinks that art and accounting seem quite different. My education and experience in accounting in academic settings allowed me to see accounting in a larger economic and social context rather than as a technical and practical system. I think that art and accounting have a commonality: both of them are considered a language, a tool of communication. While accounting is the business language that provides information of business to decision-makers in our economic system, capitalism, I believe that art is language that provides the opportunity its creator to present individual expression and to build a connection with society.
To be specific, my education and experience in accounting affected my work in the way that it focuses on a balance. Have you heard of a “balance sheet”? It is an old term of a statement of the financial position of a business. A balance sheet is often considered as a “snapshot” of the company’s financial position at a certain point in time. To know the financial status of a company, the stakeholders, for example, investors or shareholders, read the numbers in the balance sheet, that are prepared through accounting system. The decision-makers would not prefer to listen to a long verbal narrative about the company’s financial position from the CEO, if the manager would not use numbers to show the status of company in the verbal statement. I suppose that my abstract or semi-abstract work shares some properties with accounting: communication, “snapshot” (unlike cinema or other time-based art), simplification, reduction, structures, and balance.
Finally, as someone whose native language is not English, I believe that language is not universal. I found that abstraction with ambiguity and neatness is my visual language that represents my identity both conceptually and formal aesthetic-wise.
When did you begin to make work? Is it something that's always interested you?
During my childhood, I always loved making things, doing drawing and watercolor painting in particular. Well, you may hear the same thing hundreds of times from other artists. But I can say for sure, that besides being good with my hands, I was enthusiastic about making something in a different or creative way. For example, in the third grade, I brought my white T-shirt to my art class, where students were supposed to bring a piece of paper for watercolor painting. I wanted to use the T-shirt for my watercolor painting. As another example, what made me happy in art class was making something experimental, rather than doing the best realistic drawing in class.
When I was in middle school, my art teacher suggested that I would go to an art high school. But I decided to attend a regular high school and then ended up going to a business university for higher education. Although I didn’t go to an art school and didn’t take any studio art courses in my undergrad, art was something that was always inside me. I took western and eastern art history classes and a design theory as electives, which was pretty unusual for a business major. Sadly, (ha ha) sometimes I got my highest grades in those art courses rather than in my required courses.
I began to do painting seriously after I moved to Bloomington from Seoul, South Korea. I first audited an oil painting class at Indiana University in 2013, and that eventually led me to where I am now!
I saw on your Instagram a photo of beautiful floral doors from Korean temples that you found at the library. The doors remind me of your work, which often features colorful patterns and grid-like structures. What draws you to these elements?
Yes, I see the connection between the image of Korean floral doors and the patterns and grid-structure in my work. During my first semester of the MFA program at IU, I was trying so hard to find my own artistic approach. The textile course that I took really helped me develop the idea that I can use the grids as a vehicle of representing my identity. I was fascinated by the woven grids and the interplay of geometric forms in the Korean traditional patchworks, and I also found a grid-like structural quality in account books. Once I started to use those visual references, my eyes became drawn more and more to the images and objects that have similar structural quality.
The grid is not the emblem of modernism anymore. My eyes are drawn to grid-like structures because the grid can be used as a system of thinking. It looks universal, but actually it can be a good place where artists deploy their singularity, creativity, and authenticity in contemporary society.
Your more recent work has an almost organic quality to it, whereas your older work feels more architectural to me, like the doors I mentioned. For example, in your piece Autumn Notes there are tree branches and a tiger print border. Cabinet of Curiosities also has a biological feel to the patterns and colors. Have you noticed a marked shift in your work over time? Has your approach to making art changed over the years you've been painting?
My approach to making art has continuously changed over time. There were a few critical moments of the change, and I realized that it happened when I was put into new surroundings and met with new people. My very early abstract work was focused on the circular shapes with organic and landscape references. It was during my time at the Tyler School of Art in the summer of 2015 that I first began to be interested in using a rectangle border and putting an abstract narrative inside the border. The urban environment of Philadelphia, studio visits with the visiting artists, critics, and the Tyler faculty, and the works of my fellow artists allowed me to broaden my vision of contemporary art.
The second big change of my work, which was vital to develop my new approach, happened in the first year of my MFA. As I stated earlier, the textile course that I took provided me the opportunity to incorporate the structural and cultural qualities into my work. Also, the intensive and insightful MFA program at IU enabled me to challenge myself and break out of my comfort zone. The body of my work, titled “Tightrope Walker”, that feel architectural to you, is the most reductive of all my bodies of work.
I experienced the next marked shift of my work while I attended an airbrushing workshop at the Penland School of Craft in the summer of 2018. I was searching for a way to balance out the tightness embedded in my work, that is dominated by the patterns and the grids. I got attracted by the dual quality of airbrushing: the softness of textures and the sharpness of hard-edge shapes with the help of masking work. Looking at the works of other airbrush artists, I came up with the idea that I may bring some organic and biological elements into my geometrical abstraction. The animal skin, blood vessels, blood cells, DNA, flower petals, leaf veins, and tree branches appear frequently in my recent work as metaphorical imagery as well as a counter-balancing element. The leopard prints and the lattice-like structures in “Cabinet of Curiosities” and “Ataraxia” originally came from the images of late 18th and early 20th century Korean bookshelf painting. In this way, I could reduce the language barrier between me and the viewers to a certain degree. But, I don’t completely remove the ambiguity within my abstraction. I guess that my work will keep going back and forth between concreteness and abstraction.
Do you have a typical process you follow for your paintings or does it vary for each piece?
I would say that my work process is largely intuitive. I often begin with sketching my personal anecdote visually for compositional ideas, doing a collage with the photocopy images of references, or making a bit more specific drawing on paper or on my iPad. Once I am done with my preliminary study, which is very rough most of the time, I paint the images of my study with brushes on the painting surface. And it is the starting point when my intuition is constantly infused in the paintings. I decide which shapes should be masked or airbrushed. I have some sort of hierarchical layer system in my mind. But, oftentimes, I simply do airbrushing, ignoring the predetermined order of layers. There is countless back-and-forth between masking and airbrushing in the process. Besides, there is another process of molding for having different surface areas within one painting. The thick textures created by molding pastes enhance or disturb the optical illusions, while holding materiality. Through this long and slow process, my initial layers are oftentimes hidden and multiple thin layers of gradational colors are accumulated. Sometimes I may encounter an interesting moment, one that I wouldn’t have anticipated beforehand, from some mistake.
Airbrushing is a pre-digital painting technique that allows me to make a painting that looks digital but still maintains physicality. As a Xennial who had an analog childhood and has a digital adulthood, I found that airbrushing can be an interesting crossover medium between the conventional brushwork and the digital mouse or computer-work.
Are there artists working today whose work is important to you?
There are many contemporary artists whose work is inspiring: Charline von Heyl, Laura Owens, Rebecca Morris, Keltie Ferris, Trudy Benson, Peter Halley, Tomma Abts, Avery Singer, Annie Lapin, Paul Wackers, Angela Heisch, Matt Phillips, Wendy White, Alex da Corte, and Erin Ikeler.
Is there anything—art-related or otherwise—that has caught your attention recently?
I cannot help but to confess that I have been recently watching over and over again Bong Joon-ho’s older films as well as “Parasite”. It has been for a while since I last watched most of his older movies. So, while watching the films again, I felt some scenes very fresh and I noticed something that I didn’t notice the last time. I am always amazed at how clever and powerful Bong’s films are. His movies are filled with many “visual wit” dealing with dark social issues. I wish I could transplant that wit into my own work.
In addition, scenography has caught my attention since I created a 30-foot-long painting, “Ataraxia” last year. The painting looks like a theatrical stage where the viewers feel like they walk into a real space. To enhance the relationship between my paintings and the viewers, I have been looking carefully at the stage designs of music videos, art performances, operas, plays, and films.
What is your studio space like? Does your work environment have an impact on the kind of work you are doing?
While I was in my MFA program, most people visiting my studio first said how clean my studio space was. I keep my studio space clean and organized not only because I care about the hygiene and safety issues but also because it helps me keep myself away from distractions and become immersed easily in my work. Cleaning up my studio space is sort of my daily ritual for working sincerely and seriously, like performing ablutions before beginning an important project in traditional Korean culture. Of course, making a mess is often inevitable in the process of working vigorously with many physical materials and tools in the studio. It may sound odd but, the more I make a big mess while working, the more I feel satisfied while cleaning it up after my work is done.
I used to use the objects and architectural structures of the studio space as reference sources, such as the semi-translucent curtain that has a grid-like pattern, the metal wire mesh stool, and industrial beams in the high ceiling of the studio building. I think it is natural for many artists to have a tendency to use consciously and unconsciously the images that are continuously exposed to their eyes. However, I am now trying to get stimulated and inspired outside my studio space to prevent any possible reproduction of my work.
Currently, I work in a barn in a rural area in Indiana. I am very lucky that my friend, Mary DePew allowed me to use her barn for my studio work. Despite some drawbacks, for example heating conditions, it is a good enough place to work with no worries about the noise that I often make from airbrushing. When I am unable to work in the barn studio, I make digital drawings on my iPad or learn new digital media at the public library or at home.
As someone who has lived in Louisville for ten years, I think I can safely say that people often underestimate the artistic scene that is very present and vibrant in the Midwest. Do you feel connected to the art community in Bloomington? Does living in the Midwest affect the art you create?
Bloomington, a beautiful and friendly college town in Indiana, is a unique place where heritage and diverse culture coexist. The special blend of international culture and education provided by Indiana University with hard work, simple life, and hospitality influenced by the Midwestern values helps Bloomington build its own unique artistic and cultural community. I think that beginning my study in art in Bloomington, with no academic background in art in my country, allowed me to see the art in the Midwest without any preconception or bias. I have absorbed all the teachings about art from my education at Indiana University, like a baby who soaks up everything in her environment. I was very fortunate that I was encouraged to do experimentation and interdisciplinary research by taking other studio art courses outside painting area and art theory or humanities during my time at Indiana University.
There are multiple museums, performance venues, and art-focused organizations in Bloomington. I have benefited from the art community in Bloomington by participating and assisting in the artistic and cultural events, activities, and projects. I am hoping that I can get more connected to the community in Bloomington and the state through active participation and engagement in more community projects.
While living in Bloomington, I have never been thinking about searching and following a trend in the mainstream of contemporary art scene. I have been concentrating on doing what I want to do, and I don’t feel that I am totally restricted in the Midwest. Even though I may have less access to the popular museums and galleries in a big city, I have more access to a hidden gem in the Midwest that has its special artistic and cultural value. In fact, today, it is easier to access to the arts from all over the world—at least the images of the artwork, than it used to be. We can see amazing artworks and meet the artists through online platforms and art magazines, like Maake magazine. I observe that there are so many talented but under-recognized artists who are committed to the unique and vibrant art scene in the Midwest, including me! And thus, I appreciate all the efforts that many non-profit art organizations put into supporting emerging artists who are working in relatively unseen places, promoting their amazing artworks, and getting them connected together through the opportunities of print publication, exhibitions, and online interviews.
You recently did a residency at the Vermont Studio Center. Residencies put you in close contact with other artists. What was your experience like? Does your process change if you are working in close contact with other people?
I had such an incredible experience at the Vermont Studio Center! I still miss the beautiful place and the wonderful people whom I met there. The VSC provided me a perfect space and time to develop my work and get connected to other visual artists and writers. Their program was well-organized, and they provided a lot of opportunities that you benefit from, such as visiting artist talks, studio visits, artist slide presentations, open studios, and experimental projects conducted by fellow artists—to karaoke nights and informal socializing time and more. I was actively engaged in the VSC community as much as possible by participating in many events and activities, rather than staying alone in my studio all day to be productive.
The best part of my residency at the VSC was collaborating with two fellow artists to create an interactive digital piece with their sculptures. It was an exciting and amazing experience for me to combine my airbrushing skills and my two-dimensional work with three-dimensional works in both physical and digital ways. From my residencies, I realized that working in close contact with other artists provide the opportunity to see my work in a different perspective, find a new approach, and broaden the range of my practice. Also, I feel that doing residencies is one of the best ways to build a network with other artists all around the world and make new friends.
I saw you were selected as a finalist for the Hopper Prize. Congratulations! What are you working on these days? Any exhibitions or other projects on the horizon?
Thank you! It was completely unexpected good news for me. It is always good to know that there is someone who has mutual appreciation in art by being selected for inclusion in prize, exhibition, and publication opportunities. I am hoping that more good news is coming at this point, while I am doing some experimental projects based on my collaboration experience at the VSC. Thank you again for the insightful questions and the great opportunity to talk about my practice!
To find out more about Su A Chae and her work, check out her website and Instagram.