
My long-standing interest in art and cultural heritage recently led me to attend a special event celebrating the legacy of Constantin Brâncuși (1876-1957) titled "Brâncuși – From Romania to Paris and the World," held at the Seoul History Museum. I was invited by Romanian Ambassador to Korea Cezar Manole Armeanu to attend the opening ceremony of the exhibition on July 3. The program featured a photo exhibition showcasing some of Brâncuși’s most representative masterpieces, offering opportunity to explore the vision of the artist widely regarded as the founding father of modern sculpture. Standing there, surrounded by photographs of his masterpieces, I found myself thinking less about art history and more about how desperately we need his philosophy right now.
To commemorate the occasion, the exhibition featured a screening of a film by Cornel Mihalache, a prominent Romanian director and senior TV journalist who was recently appointed manager of the Brâncuși Center in Târgu Jiu. A long-time scholar of Brâncuși, Mihalache has spent decades documenting the sculptor’s life.
Born in rural Romania, Brâncuși brought his homeland’s folk woodcarving heritage to Paris. He fiercely protected his independence, even leaving a coveted spot in Auguste Rodin’s studio because, as he famously declared, “Nothing can grow under big trees.”
Free from Rodin’s influence, Brâncuși developed a distinctive style characterized by simplicity, purity and a search for the essence of form. Rather than reproducing outward appearances, he sought to express profound truths through clean lines and refined shapes. This vision gave rise to such celebrated works as "Sleeping Muse" (an exploration of creative inspiration), "The Kiss" and the "Bird in Space" series, which attempted to capture not the image of a bird itself but the very idea of flight.
One of the defining moments of Brâncuși’s career came in 1926, when a version of "Bird in Space" arrived in the United States. Customs officials refused to recognize the abstract sculpture as art and classified it as an industrial object subject to import duties. However, a court case ended in Brâncuși’s favor and became a landmark victory for modernism.
Brâncuși’s greatest public achievement is found in Târgu Jiu, where he created a monumental ensemble honoring Romanian soldiers who defended the city during World War I. Completed in 1938, the complex consists of "The Table of Silence, "The Gate of the Kiss" and the soaring "Endless Column." Together, these works form a powerful meditation on sacrifice, memory and spiritual transcendence.
Carefully restored in the early 21st century, the site remains one of Romania’s most treasured cultural landmarks.
Today, Brâncuși’s influence spans the globe, including Korea. His sculptures are displayed in leading museums, inspire contemporary artists and command remarkable prices at international auctions. As Romania celebrates the 150th anniversary of his birth in 2026, renewed attention is also being given to preserving the integrity of his legacy.
Brâncuși’s enduring message is that simplicity is the ultimate expression of meaning. Stepping out of the exhibition and back into the neon rush of Seoul, the world felt quieter. By stripping away everything but the essential, he created a universal language that resonates across cultures. Walking home, I was left with one lingering question: What can I strip away from my own daily routine so that only the essential remains? Until I find that answer, I will hold onto the hope that Brâncuși’s original works will one day be exhibited in Korea.
Choe Chong-dae (choecd@naver.com) is a guest columnist for The Korea Times. He is a recipient of Sweden’s Royal Order of the Polar Star, one of the nation’s most distinguished honors.