Today we’d like to introduce you to Jiwoo Shin.
Hi Jiwoo, thanks for sharing your story with us. To start, maybe you can tell our readers some of your backstory.
As a “diplobrat” I grew up having to relocate physical and mental values up until adolescence every few years consistently, the inability to truly engage or participate in the culture of “my country” was conspicuous. Stuck in an environment that required adaptation to constant and abrupt changes. I came back to my home country, Korea around when I was thirteen. Initially, I dreamt of becoming a K-pop star, before my emo phase began where I wanted to become a rock star—I always thought I’d be a musician. Like all other artists, I was always into all sorts of art, whether it be music, painting, film, and the list goes on. Thanks to my father who had a great taste in all of those subjects, taught me well. I can profoundly say that I discovered most of my artistic potentials through his education.
When I moved to Korea, who knew my ‘self-discovery’ would be a love-hate relationship, a vicious cycle? Little had I known the psychological outcome from dealing with a society that pushes young girls to fit into the ‘norm’ I attended a public national school where I was bullied, therefore depressed, and acquired an eating disorder; acute peer pressure and recognition of the media’s standards on beauty brought extreme insecurities and low self-esteem. I adopted a destructive eating habit of restricting and purging. I felt trapped inside my own body, and I was restricted by how I saw others seeing me. ‘I don’t look like _____. They’re going to think I’m ugly and fat.’ —I chased an illusion of perfection. I hated my imperfect self and simply lost every will to live. I’m gonna share a story where I found a eureka moment of my love for painting as a teenager; it will be cheesy but perhaps visualizing as a Xavier Dolan-esque scene might reduce the cringing:
The ‘gloom’ crept up one night I was alone. I was aware that my self-destructive habits were only a temporary coping mechanism and I had to distract myself from the blues lurking up my spine. As I noticed the set of acrylic paints on my desk I had laid out for a school project, I grabbed them and just started painting the wall with my hands —right hand-dipped in violet stamped across to all four corners, cobalt blue disorderly splattered along the surface, little sparks of scarlet and magenta carefully feathered with my fingers, and the black that filled the empty spaces. I was completely captured in the moment. Hours flew by and the result was an abstraction of a galactic form; the colors were mingling, exploding, and twiddling their way out of the wall that they’ve now taken possession of. In that moment I felt happy. I didn’t feel the need to compare it to anything else. It was mine and it was ‘beautiful’ (the house was a rented house but I really said carpe diem aka fuck it)
Since then, my suicidal tendencies gradually subsided; I learned to purge through colors, lines, and form. For me art is not an excuse to present overly complex theories or ideas. My art is what makes me feel confident to be who I am: it doesn’t have to resemble anything; there isn’t a certain example of what it should be. Through appreciating artworks done not only by me but also my colleagues, it’s come vivid to me that ‘perfection’ doesn’t exist but beauty within everyone’s flaws does. Because the meaning lies in the fact that it’s a creation of a specific individual, and the difference is what makes it special.
Additionally during this period, I found sanctuary in film: I would religiously watch three films everyday and I can remember clearly the depth of emotions of each film and how liberating it was to escape the reality I was so uninterested in. Until this day, I claim that cinema has saved my life, given me a purpose, something to dream about. Albeit I mainly practice in visual/fine arts (also my major) because it comes vastly natural to me, film is my passion and mostly the great inspiration for what I make. This is why before transferring to CalArts, I attended SFAI where Kathryn Bigelow graduated as a painting major, then became the first-ever female director to win an Oscar. Also, David Lynch majored in painting and his films are absolutely mind-boggling. Eventually, I aspire to be a distinct filmmaker, as an Asian female director that could somehow change the inequality and discrimination towards women in the movie scene and shed light on female directors that they deserve.
I’m sure you wouldn’t say it’s been obstacle free, but so far would you say the journey have been a fairly smooth road?
The American Dream — acknowledging the death of it. Younger Jiwoo was devastatingly fascinated by Western culture and its “broad spectrum of subject matters” and how “liberal” and “drastic” it seemed to be as a young adolescent repressed in strict Korean academics, roughly (most definitely) idolizing everything and anything that emanated predominantly Western values. It was more or less an escape from reality that one day I’ll be like “one of them” when I finally escaped this loveless living hell and continued to reject my racial identity. It was devastating to acknowledge that the True Self didn’t belong in where I was born, that so generously gifted me with an immense amount of psychological trauma, betting all hopes to the future in “the land of freedom and opportunity” that was barely experienced physically. It was a vague American Dream; to go to an art school in California and eventually win an Oscar or something. Building a good portfolio was the utmost priority, art was the only way I knew how to get distracted from self-destructive behaviors, and like most beginning artists an outlet for the inner psyche.
“Requiem for a Dream” is a story about four individuals who pursued The American Dream and the result of their pursuit. The film (directed by Darren Aronofsky) upon first encounter (in one of the most suicidal periods of middle school in Korea) completely changed my life by presenting me with an aspiration to become a filmmaker. In the preface of the original book, Huber Selby Jr. writes “…to pursue the American Dream is not only futile but self-destructive because ultimately it destroys everything and everyone involved with it. …it nurtures everything except those things that are important: integrity, ethics, truth, our very heart and soul. Why? The reason is simple: because Life/life is giving, not getting.”
The feeling of having to detest what you loved by facing the truth is agonizing. When I felt nowhere at “home” (Korea), and I still won’t feel a full sense of belonging in America even if I managed to get a citizenship.
After achieving that first part of the initial American Dream (attending a college in the U.S.), I did become more aware of my racial identity. However, the racial dissociation grew even stronger and I’d ponder on the uncertainty of the future. The lack of political and racial implications in my work made me feel as if I were a failure as an “Asian female artist”. Often during critique, I would get questions about my work relating to my race or gender. As an artist that began “art making” as a form of psychological explosion, the works produced were mostly from the inner psyche regarding abstract surrealistic portrayal of trauma, desire, relationships, etc., in attempt to evoke an emotional feedback visually. Not necessarily related to my racial identity (Perhaps this feeling of failure is another example of the pressure of being a “model minority”). I grew up privileged with the opportunity of learning English like a “native” so I never experienced “severe” racism or disadvantages. But they exist, and it would be selfish and ignorant to simply turn away from the issue, as I have been, for my own comfort.
“…They did not know the difference between the Vision in their hearts and the illusion of the American Dream…….In pursuing the lie of illusion, they made it impossible to experience the truth of the Vision. As a result, everything of value was lost.” Quintessentially that is not my Dream; American or whatnot.
Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe next you can tell us a bit more about your work?
“There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in”. – Leonard Cohen
From female figures regurgitating in pain to flowers oozing from cracked open heads, silhouettes of kids running off a cliff to watermelon-headed Barbie and Ken smashing each other’s heads; my work extends its elements to an extreme of ‘ugliness’. Reason being, I never try to create artwork that is boring; and ugly is never boring.
Inspired usually by films and books of creators like Darren Aronofsky, Hubert Selby Jr., Park Chanwook, Lars Von Trier, and Yorgos Lanthimos, scenes I create are aimed to be ambient and melancholic — with a hint of irony, usually with an abstract yet significant story/message to be told. I love all the different interpretations of each viewer, I find it fascinating when the viewers share their reactions towards my work — since there are no ‘right or wrong’ I simply nod and try to not talk about the work.
Most of the artworks would often start off as a painting but gradually differ or develop in another platform, preferably into an installation/ multi-medium of sorts.
By using variety of colors and laying importance in utilizing different mediums such as paint, clay, or even ‘trash’ —such as used up tissues of excess watercolor or styrofoam balls (nowadays collecting all the masks I’ve used) I end up creating a work that has emanates ‘order in disorder’, implying the ‘beauty’ in the ‘ugly’ — sometimes intentional, sometimes not. This beauty I would describe as the ‘light’, is the opinions or the interpretation of the viewers of my creation, which can turn into numerous different things — is truly remarkable; which also cannot exist without the ‘crack’, the ugliness or the ‘flaw’ that I create.
Any advice for finding a mentor or networking in general?
What’s great about living in California is that there’s always something happening. Well, there was, before Covid decided to ruin all of our lives. I love being around people and it’s no secret that I love networking (partying). What I’ve come to realize becoming an adult is that there are more good than harm with saying ‘yes’; I cannot live multiple lives but I can vicariously through engaging with others and their stories. It’s fascinating to meet new people and hear their backstories — I often put myself in their shoes and wonder “What would I have done? Could I be that brave?”; it inspires me numerous ways because I’m slowly getting sick of being so obsessed with myself and my traumas. In terms of mentors, I am truly grateful for all the instructors I’ve encountered during my stay at SFAI and currently in CalArts. In Korea, there’s seems to be a barrier between the student and the teacher, which creates a discomforting atmosphere of hierarchy where one is always above the other. What I love about my instructors/mentors is that they don’t just acknowledge me as a mere student but also as a fellow artist. As cliche as it sounds, “Don’t be scared” — whether it is speaking up about subjects matters that bother you, attending an event that is not really up your rally, or taking a class that is completely out of your artistic practice range. There’s so many other opportunities in life that will come to you —only if you let it happen.
Contact Info:
- Email: [email protected] / [email protected]
- Instagram: 6abydiabla (art page) @6a6ydia6la (personal)
