Gyun Hur
Gyun in her studio located at Brooklyn Army Terminal, Sunset Park, Brooklyn, NY.
Gyun Hur is an interdisciplinary artist and an educator whose experience as an immigrant daughter deeply fuels her practice. Gyun recently completed Stove Works Residency, Bronx Museum AIM Fellowship, and Danspace Project Writer-in-Residency. She is the inaugural recipient of The Hudgens Prize. Her works have been featured in Hyperallergic, The Cut, Art In America, Art Paper, Sculpture, Art Asia Pacific, Public Art Magazine Korea, and more. Her interest in art making in public space led her to various artist presentations at the TEDxCentennial Women, Living Walls: The City Speaks, The Hong Kong Polytechnic University, The New School, and many others. Gyun has contributed as an artist-writer in fLoromancy, The Brooklyn Rail, and The Forgetory.
Born in South Korea, she moved to Georgia at the age of 13. She currently lives in Brooklyn and teaches at Parsons School of Design.
Can you tell us a bit about the process of making your work?
Art and life demand much of me in finding equilibrium, and that deeply impacts my making. Most of my works are generated from my life and the prompts that sites or spaces provide for me. For example, the most recent exhibition “So we can be near '' was a symbolic, formalistic translation of both my biography and the project’s site at Wave Hill. The intense examination of my life often yields images, writings, and references. I then go into making a few hand drawn sketches to prepare for each project. In recent years, writing has become a more prominent part of the making process.
Gyun Hur: So we can be near, 2021, hand-shredded silk flowers, vinyl print, mirror, hand-blown glass, and river water
Courtesy of the artist and Wave Hill. Photo: Stefan Hagen
What are you working on at the moment?
I’m currently finalizing the fabrication of 30 teardrop glass vessels that have hints of yellow coloring. They will be installed for two group exhibitions in Atlanta and the Bronx. I’m really excited about integrating river water and glass as the main materials of my work. This past winter, I spent some time with the Delaware River on a personal trip. I woke up to a view of this river that was constantly moving and it slowly taught me this choreography of letting go. I could see the life it generated and it was beautiful.
For the past ten years, hand-shredded silk flowers have been my anchor and signature material as a way to process loss and melancholia. I once felt that I could do the rest of my life's work with that particular material, then river water and glass naturally came into my practice. It feels so nice to shift my imagination.
Gyun Hur: So we can be near, 2021, hand-blown glass and river water (detail) Courtesy of the artist and Wave Hill. (Left photo: Stefan Hagen) Work in progress, hand-blown glass vessels. (Right photo: Gyun Hur)
The use of hand-shredded silk flower petals is consistent in your work. Can you share more on their importance?
My initial discovery of silk flowers was at cemeteries where they were often discarded after wind or rain plucked them away from their dedications. Their artificiality defies decay which I find quite fascinating as my work speaks to the fragile and fleeting nature of life. My floor installations are my interior landscape and home. These silk flowers have made it possible for my stubborn imagination to attempt iteration after iteration of a forever-ness.
The long, relentless process of collecting and deconstructing these silk flowers is all done by hand. The resulting pigment-like material embodies this invisible, unforgiving labor. I approach my work that way because it makes sense to me, materially, emotionally, conceptually… as I shred these flowers bit by bit, I alter their origins, form, and value. I think of the power that lies within this transformation of the material and my psyche. Hand-shredded silk flowers are my intimate transfiguration of what’s been untethered.
What are some references you draw upon in your work? Are there any themes in particular that you like to focus on when creating?
I just finished reading “Agnes Martin: Her Life and Art” by Nancy Princenthal. The details of her biography contradict what’s most obvious in her work, these endless stripes of calmness. Through her life stories, I learned that she speaks of happiness and joy from a place of having seen and gone through the other side.
I lean on my knowledge in art history as well as my bodily and emotional memories as references. Works by Martin, Mark Rothko, and Francisco Goya deeply influence my aesthetics. Felix Gonzalez-Torres, Ana Mendieta, and Theresa Hak Kyung Cha have shown me poetry that I did not know of. At the same time, I want to let go of all those things, this learned knowledge per se, and just look at nature to reflect its ungraspable beauty in my work, or is that even possible, I ask. Our human (in)capacity to hold ambiguity in our lives, in loss, beauty, and melancholia continues to give me reason to make.
I wouldn’t know any other way, 2020, hand-shredded silk flowers, vinyl print, and mirror, 3 days public performance in the installation at BRIC. Courtesy of the artist. Photo: David Andrako.
Where are some of your favorite spaces that support contemporary art or design? Now that the art has an online presence has that changed?
Digital platforms surely have given visibility to artists and viewers otherwise not able, discoverable, or reachable, your platform being a very example of that. I still value the physicality of experiencing work in person, with my body and sensations, you know.
Danspace Project at St. Mark's church is a place I go to see choreographers and dancers pursue their craft and experimentation. Their bodies and histories merge so vulnerably and courageously in that space; it feels sacred. I cried with many performances there and I cannot wait to return to its physical space when it reopens. Meanwhile, their digital programming and archival projects have been incredible to access, especially with their recent “Platform 2021: The Dream of The Audience.” I particularly recommend watching “With the Earth at My Waistline” by Eiko Otake and Joan Jonas. It’s fabulous. Wave Hill is one of my most beloved sites in New York with the Hudson River in view. Its curatorial programming has created a haven for many young artists to unfold their ideas, and I am so grateful that they exist.
Do you have any shows coming up? Anything else you would like to share?
I have an upcoming project with Art in Buildings. Title is to be determined, but I am thinking something like Composition of us and the river - “liken it to the dance.” I’m installing in a small window space at 523 Hudson Street in Greenwich Village, a few minutes walking distance from the Hudson River. Using this particular window as a mediator, I will cast glass to hold river water for about 8 weeks in the late winter this year. With this particular project, I’m thinking about how to remind ourselves of nature that we must care for. Honoring nature along with our human experiences is becoming more and more urgent to me.
Initial sketch for Composition of us and the river - “liken it to the dance,” pen on paper. Courtesy of the artist.
Gyun Hur’s work is included in our show “Illuminated,” July 9th - Aug. 30th, 2021. Visit her Instagram (@gyunhurstudio) and website www.gyunhur.com to see more of her work.