Park Han-sol reports on Korea's financial regulators, along with fintech and insurance. She previously wrote about the art world, from biennales and exhibitions to fairs and auctions, with a focus on Seoul and the figures shaping the scene. Before joining The Korea Times, she spent a year at ABC News' Seoul bureau, contributing to coverage of major Asia-Pacific events.
Pirate utopias, Buddhist enlightenment illuminate Busan Biennale's 'Seeing in the Dark'
Amid the iron bars and steel-clad doors of an old bank vault in the underground gallery of the Busan Modern and Contemporary History Museum hangs Koo Hun-joo's "Mugunghwa Pirates" series, where the graffiti artist has reimagined past presidents of Korea as pirates. The work is on view as part of this year's Busan Biennale, which kicked off Saturday in the southeastern port city under the theme, "Seeing in the Dark." Korea Times photo by Park Han-sol
By Park Han-sol
Exhibition struggles to cohesively unite compelling works of 78 artists
BUSAN — Amid the iron bars and steel-clad doors of an old bank vault in the underground gallery of the Busan Modern and Contemporary History Museum — once a Bank of Korea building — hangs an unusual collection of Korean presidential portraits.
Each former leader is graffitied with bicorn hats, scruffy beards, facial scars and reddened noses. In Koo Hun-joo’s provocative series, “Mugunghwa Pirates,” the nature of democracy is called into question as these political heavyweights are reimagined as pirates — not as lawless plunderers but as radical outcasts who forged their own autonomous, egalitarian societies beyond the confines of traditional governments.
In the adjacent vault room, Lee Yang-hee’s pulsating dance performance “Hail” plays in a continuous loop on wall-spanning screens. Inspired by the rave parties, techno culture and underground club scene that briefly thrived in Korea between the late 1990s and early 2000s, the 15-minute piece evokes a powerful sense of liberation and freedom. By contrasting this rebellious energy with the rigid confines of a former state-owned bank, a symbol of restraint and security, the performance becomes a celebration of unrestrained expression.
The Busan Biennale 2024, co-curated by Vera Mey and Philippe Pirotte, draws inspiration from the concepts of pirate and Buddhist enlightenment to propose that these alternative ways of life can offer a new perspective in navigating today's dark and uncertain world. Courtesy of Busan Biennale Organizing Committee
Such works, which envision themes of emancipation through the spirits of pirates, are spotlighted at the Busan Biennale 2024 alongside an unexpected companion: Buddhist art.
Notably, at the Busan Museum of Contemporary Art, Ven. Song Cheon’s towering 8-meter-tall paintings depict two religious icons — Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva and the Virgin Mary — in the style of classical Buddhist scrolls. Though rooted in different spiritual traditions, these figures arouse a similar sense of awe, inviting viewers to reflect on the shared ideas of transcendent compassion.
As gleaned from the presentation, this year’s Busan Biennale draws inspiration from two distinct yet interconnected sources: the 18th-century “pirate utopias,” which functioned as autonomous and surprisingly inclusive havens for socially exiled renegades, and Buddhist monastic practices, which emphasize ascetic living apart from the normative, secular world.
Guided by these radically alternative ways of life, the biennial’s co-artistic directors, Vera Mey and Philippe Pirotte, have devised the theme “Seeing in the Dark.” The two propose that these “fugitives” from normality offer a new perspective, helping visitors explore today’s dark and uncertain world in ways previously unimagined.
“We are really guided by these two concepts of Pirate Enlightenment and Buddhist Enlightenment as a way to navigate a terrain that is unknown, a terrain that questions the concept of the self and [requires] us to use other senses to navigate, not just our eyes,” Mey said during a press tour of the biennial Friday.
From left, Busan-based Bang Jeong-a's "Anytime I Can Join Your Ship," "Those Enlightened in the Water" and "Growing Claws-Becoming" / Courtesy of Busan Biennale Organizing Committee
Installation view of the Busan Biennale 2024 / Courtesy of Busan Biennale Organizing Committee
The result, which kicked off Saturday in the southeastern port city, is a visceral yet disappointingly organized exhibition that struggles to cohesively unite the provocative works of 78 artists, instrument makers, doctors, DJs and religious practitioners from 36 countries.
Granted, many of the installations and performances, displayed across four venues — the two aforementioned museums, another bank-turned-cultural center Hansung 1918 and the two-story vernacular Choryang House — are gripping in their own right.
In "Memedi Sawah/Scarecrow Installation," the Indonesian collective Taring Padi responds to the marked escalation of rice prices, which have for years been leveraged as a political tool in the Southeast Asian nation, in the wake of the 2024 general election. Korea Times photo by Park Han-sol
In “Memedi Sawah/Scarecrow Installation,” the Indonesian collective Taring Padi responds to the marked escalation of rice prices, which have for years been leveraged as a political tool in the Southeast Asian nation, in the wake of the 2024 general election. Taring Padi's bold banners, cardboard puppets and woodcut prints, produced in solidarity with local peasant communities, engage in an intriguing dialogue with Korean artist Yun Suk-nam’s resilient portraits of forgotten female independence activists from the 1910-45 Japanese colonial era.
Sorawit Songsataya’s “Two Bridges with 7 Notes and 42 Strings” weaves together sonic and olfactory memories from the childhood of the Thailand-born New Zealand artist. In fashioning a makeshift version of Khim, a traditional stringed instrument, Songsataya combines dried fish and shells from Busan’s Jagalchi Market with rattan vines sourced in Thailand.
Sorawit Songsataya fashions a makeshift version of Khim, a traditional stringed instrument, in "Two Bridges with 7 Notes and 42 Strings" by combining dried fish and shells from Busan’s Jagalchi Market with rattan vines sourced in Thailand. Korea Times photo by Park Han-sol
Tracy Naa Koshie Thompson's "Kimchi-Waakye" transforms Ghanaian Waakye, a dish of cooked rice and beans, and Korean kimchi into large-scale abstractions that recall alien geological terrains. Korea Times photo by Park Han-sol
Korean culinary elements also make an appearance in Tracy Naa Koshie Thompson’s “Kimchi-Waakye,” where she transforms Ghanaian Waakye (a dish of cooked rice and beans) and Korean kimchi into large-scale abstractions that recall alien geological terrains.
And Indian artist Rajyashri Goody has displayed hundreds of overturned bowls gathered from Busan, arranged to resemble Buddhist stupas. Known for her focus on caste-based violence against the Dalits — referred to as untouchables — these dishes take on profound symbolism. They are seen as the begging bowls of Dalits that are reimagined as sacred religious structures, highlighting a reclamation of dignity and spirituality in the face of oppression.
Meanwhile, HongLee Hyunsook’s “Blackout Journey” places the audience in complete darkness for nearly half an hour, leaving them to navigate using only their heightened senses of smell, touch and sound. The experience offers an intuitive framework to reconsider the role of visual art.
Indian artist Rajyashri Goody has displayed hundreds of overturned bowls gathered from Busan, arranged to resemble Buddhist stupas. Korea Times photo by Park Han-sol
However, the main issue with this year’s biennale lies in the noticeable disconnect between these individually compelling pieces and the show’s overall thematic vision.
The concepts of pirate enlightenment and Buddhist enlightenment, intended as the theoretical glue binding together the 349 paintings, installations and performances, feel unnecessarily forced and tenuous at best.
As a result, many of the works appear contextless and isolated — from each other, from the venues they occupy and from the show’s overarching narrative.
The Busan Biennale runs until Oct. 20.
Installation view of "Continuous Cities" by Iranian artist Golrokh Nafisi and researcher Ahmadali Kadivar / Korea Times photo by Park Han-sol