The 'trivia' of everyday life: Cats reflect inklings of hope on canvas

“When You Close Your Eyes, Then All of a Sudden” (2020), left, and “House of Romance” (2021) by Koo Chae-yeon / Courtesy of the artist
By Park Han-sol
Amid the ongoing COVID-19 crisis that seems to have no clear end in sight, it is not dramatic spectacles, but rather the emotional experiences of everyday life that are providing people with renewed senses of escape and healing.
As the constant forward movement of our societies and economies has temporarily come to a halt, we are being tasked with reflecting back on our realities to look for any last inklings of hope and happiness.
The works of artist Koo Chae-yeon, displayed recently at the exhibition, “Nabi's Words of Comfort, I'm OK,” at the Heesugallery in Jongno District, central Seoul, bring a world of hope into the gallery space.
Artist Koo Chae-yeon / Courtesy of the artist
“As you can probably see, my works don't aim to convey something overly profound. They are the results of my effort to insert the 'trivia' of everyday life ― comforting emotions and a sense of healing," the artist said during a recent interview with The Korea Times.
This effort is reflected in a dreamlike natural landscape of mountains, sea, forest and flowerbeds, with creatures sprung from fairy tales and other imaginative realms abounding.
“There were many visitors asking me what each figure symbolized, especially during this exhibition. And there were just as many who were eager to share their own interpretation of them. For example, someone told me that the long breaths let out by the fish with wings on the canvas was like a life force for people in states of depression during the pandemic.”
But the most notable figure in her painting series is none other than that of the cat. It was the year 1998, at the beginning of her artistic career, when she began incorporating the creature into her paintings. Even just two decades ago in Korea, cats were more commonly referred to as “thieves” for their habit of rummaging through plastic bags on the street. They weren't a favorable topic of conversation, let alone of painting.
“I remember my professors and viewers showing discomfort with my depiction of the animal. Some even asked me, 'Why are you drawing cats? You could have painted a tiger instead.'”
But from her experience of feeding and observing the cats on the streets for years, Koo saw in their free-spirited personality some similar characteristics to those of human beings.
“My family has three cats. Seeing their organic relationships and care for each other, I realized there is a lot we can learn from them,” she said. “Nowadays, we have seen a significant change in people's perception toward the animal. From 'thief cats,' they became 'street cats,' to now, 'neighborhood cats.'”
As a result, painting cats has become a medium for Koo to transform the negative stereotypes about them into hopeful elements, helping the viewers empathize with the creatures in thinking of their own stories of happiness.
Just as her works capture the trivial parts of everyday life, the artist also wishes for the art gallery to become a bigger part of the public's lives. “There are still many visitors who feel uncomfortable, even apologetic, about staying at the gallery for a long time without purchasing an artwork, and about asking me questions.”
One way to bring changes is to build an atmosphere for children to enjoy art in their everyday life, as opposed to the occasional gallery being designated as a “No Kids Zone.”
“In one gallery in southern Seoul, children can freely do their own drawings on a sketchbook with crayons at the exhibition. They can also appreciate the artwork while lying down or riding on their father's shoulders,” she said, urging both the parents and the gallery to take a more open-mind attitude toward the young visitors.