Young-Ju Joung created the shape of the mountains by pasting sheets of paper; likewise, she formed the houses by pasting and cutting paper. Afterward, she painted her shapes with several dozen layers of acrylic paint, which brought the houses to life. One sheet of paper leans on the other, becomes roots for each other, and raises itself. The houses provide each other the warmth rising from their existence and radiate the liveliness of life. And the houses, leaning on each other and providing support for other houses, fill the entire canvas and fade forever to the horizon. Just as how a stone tossed into a pond sends out concentric ripples that reach every edge of the pond, the light flowing out from Joung’s houses sounds concentric circles that reach the deepmost of our hearts. Joung creates her mountains and houses by building many layers of paper, sculpts the overall landscape with the accumulation of her countless, tireless brushstrokes, and finally, retouches the lights at the end. The vague ambiance then gains a collective life, and the painting unveils the view of a universe that pulsates eternally. The lights in Joung’s paintings are the eyes of the landscape, the master of the human soul. … Joung’s paintings begin by aiming for an accurate representation, but they always end by reaching the final gate of inner truth (poetic truth). And by entering them, we are, at last, released from our habits of measurement, quantification, and causal reasoning.
- Excerpt from “Another World’”
Jinmyung Lee · Critic of Art, Aesthetics, and Oriental Studies