Haegue Yang, LA Phil bring Yun Isang's 'Double Concerto' to life in Los Angeles

Artist Haegue Yang, right, and conductor Earl Lee pose in front of Yang's "Sol LeWitt Upside Down – K123456, Expanded 1078 Times, Doubled and Mirrored" (2015) at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles. Courtesy of MOCA and Owen Kolasinski

By Jane Han

• Published Mar 13, 2026 12:34 PM KST
• Updated Mar 17, 2026 4:30 AM KST

Artist describes project not as clash of opposites, but passage between them

LOS ANGELES — The lights dimmed inside Walt Disney Concert Hall as the sound of wind drifted through the darkness Tuesday evening.

Two narrow beams swept across the audience, racing from the back of the hall toward the stage before swinging back again like a pendulum. As the lights moved, the soundscape thickened, wind giving way to rain before swelling into the suggestion of a gathering storm.

This five-minute “light prelude,” designed by internationally acclaimed artist Haegue Yang, served as a quiet overture before the Los Angeles Philharmonic (LA Phil) performed composer Yun Isang’s 1977 composition, “Double Concerto.”

The LA Phil New Music Group navigated the work’s restless currents under the baton of Korean Canadian conductor Earl Lee. Instead of a traditional melody, the oboe and harp move through shifting textures and sustained tones, circling one another in gestures that build tension rather than resolve it.

Without a clear melodic anchor, the piece draws listeners into a landscape defined by texture and movement.

When the final sound faded, the sold-out hall rose to its feet in a standing ovation.

Two spaces, one idea

The concert formed the musical centerpiece of the cross-institutional project linking LA Phil and the Museum of Contemporary Art (MOCA) Los Angeles, inviting audiences to encounter the same artistic source in two forms.

Earlier in the evening, visitors gathered at MOCA to walk through “Star-Crossed Rendezvous After Yun,” Yang’s large-scale installation inspired by Yun’s composition, before crossing Grand Avenue to hear the music itself.

Inside the MOCA building on Grand Avenue, Yang’s installation transforms rows of venetian blinds into a shifting environment of light and shadow. Narrow beams cut through the slats, casting thin stripes across the gallery floor as visitors move slowly through the space. With each step, the patterns shift, producing a quiet choreography of bodies, light and architecture.

Speakers embedded in the installation carry fragments of Yun’s music, hinting at the performance awaiting audiences later in the evening. The visual elements respond to the composer’s layered soundscape — sustained tones, subtle ornamentation and moments of tension that seem to hover rather than resolve.

Then came the music itself. On stage, the two soloists traded delicate phrases while the ensemble built waves of sound beneath them. The music moved unpredictably, erupting at times in sharp gestures before settling into moments of quiet stillness.

For those who began at MOCA, the concert offered a second way to experience the same artistic ideas.

From Yun's sound to Yang's space

Yang said her interest in Yun began about a decade ago.

“I started with a very basic question,” she said during a press preview Tuesday. “What kind of music did this composer actually write?”

Yang has long used venetian blinds as a signature material, exploring how everyday architectural objects reshape the way viewers perceive space. In “Star-Crossed Rendezvous After Yun,” the blinds become both sculptural forms and instruments for shaping light, creating an atmosphere that changes depending on where one stands.

The exhibition takes its conceptual starting point from Yun’s “Double Concerto,” written for oboe, harp and chamber orchestra. The work reflects the composer’s distinctive approach to sound, influenced by European avant-garde traditions as well as Korean musical aesthetics. Rather than building toward a clear melody, Yun’s music often centers on what he described as a “main tone,” a sustained note surrounded by subtle shifts in pitch and color.

That musical language carries echoes of the composer’s own life story. Born in Korea in 1917, Yun spent much of his career in Germany after becoming entangled in Cold War politics that forced him into exile. His work frequently reflects themes of distance, tension and reconciliation.

Yang’s installation draws on those ideas while translating them into a spatial experience. Moving through the gallery, visitors encounter light that flickers and fades across surfaces, creating a sense of suspended movement that mirrors the music’s restless flow.

The collaboration between the museum and orchestra creates a rare dialogue between visual art and live performance. By linking the two spaces, the project encourages audiences to move physically through downtown Los Angeles while reflecting on the relationship between different forms of artistic expression.

Yang said the project ultimately reflects her belief that art should move beyond simple oppositions.

“The world is very turbulent right now. There are wars, conflicts and a lot of fear,” she said. “My work is not about oppositions like yin and yang or black and white. It’s about moving back and forth between them. From a distance, maybe it becomes something like a peace concert.”

In that sense, the evening’s journey across Grand Avenue mirrored the ideas behind Yang’s installation. The rendezvous unfolded not only between two institutions, but between two ways of encountering Yun’s work — first through shifting light and space inside the museum, then through sound and movement on the concert stage.