Jaeyeon Park, <Things we don't yet know>,
Book cover, Potato, 2022

Jaeyeon Park, <Things we don't yet know>,
Book, Book cover, Epoxy, Potato, Plaster, Wax, Rock, Wood, 2022

What is sculpture, and what does our life mean?

Embarking on my second master's degree at Cranbrook presented its challenges. If my prior work served as a means of organizing and conveying a natural flow of thoughts and questions within a narrative structure, this new endeavor called for a departure from familiar territory. I sought to break away from the established flow and subject matter. Formally, I aimed to craft poetry rather than prose. Novels, with their linear narrative structure, offer a gentler approach, guiding readers through a story with clarity through the arrangement of words, sentences, and paragraphs.

Poetry, in contrast, deconstructs and disperses conventional writing methods, embracing a non-linear progression of thoughts. While it may possess an overarching theme like a novel, poetry embodies an experimental narrative structure, offering a more liberated mode of thought. Unlike novels, poetry is unbound by the constraints of a beginning or endpoint, embracing an infinite expanse of expression.

The questions that arose as I delved into the study of sculpture were perhaps inevitable. I harbored genuine curiosity about the essence of sculpture, art, and life itself. Though these inquiries carried weighty implications, they also possessed an element of whimsy. Reminiscent of Milan Kundera's narrative style, which skillfully interweaves weighty themes with moments of levity, I found myself drawn to the irreverent nuances of life. These moments of skeptical humor offer a nuanced perspective on the gravity of existence.

Contemplating the essence of sculpture, I found myself confronted with seemingly trivial images. A potato, emblematic of mundane existence, juxtaposed against the lofty concept of "art." Yet, the potato, ubiquitous and unassuming, offered a mirror to our everyday reality. When creating artwork, I often focus on profound meaning, grappling with weighty questions and discourse. Yet, at my core, I yearned to escape from these heavy concepts, seeking refuge in the tangible, earthly realm.

Creating artwork is, in part, a journey of self-reflection. Artists are often driven by a desire to explore the metaphysical realm, yet life and art are more akin to comedy than a noble adventure. Humor serves as a means to transcend the inherent seriousness of existence, offering a fleeting respite from the burdens of reality.

While I may not yet have all the answers regarding sculpture and art, I view this journey as an ongoing exploration without a predetermined destination. This work serves as a starting point for my new adventure, a catalyst for future endeavors.

Jaeyeon Park, <Balls>, Log, Scrap wood, Tennis ball, Wax, 2022

Jaeyeon Park, <Bussiness card> by Saehoon Kim, 2022

Jaeyeon Park’s experimental exhibition <Rat & Bee>
Space Pado, Seoul, South Korea, 2022

“His works start from the objects that have been abandoned, unattended, borrowed, or secondhanded and sold back. Therefore, the process towards the creation is a interminable movement in both directions, willingly subordinated to the distinct elements remaining in the original object and at the same time trying to deconstruct it. Through archiving scattered objects and bizarrely blending incongruity and infelicity, his formative work pauses for a moment in line with the 'date of the exhibition' and the 'moment of exhibition' without an exact moment of completion. He stands the question of authentic form or authentic meaning between the unfinished object, the passage of time,
and the spectator.”

(Text: Yeowool Yoon, translated by Sungeun Won)

Jaeyeon Park, Chen Gao, <Shadows>, mixed media, 2022
Inspired by Akira Kosemura, <Shadow>, 2017

(Collaborated with Chen Gao)

Jaeyeon Park, <Fallen Child>, Found Object, 2022

Jaeyeon Park, <Tennis>,<Ski>, Epoxy Clay, Found Object, 2022

Jaeyeon Park, <Merry Christmas>, Epoxy clay, Found object, 2022