Similarly, machines lie at the heart of Hyun Kwanghun’s artworks, the results of assembling countless parts that he carves from scratch all the way down to every screw and cogwheel. Also, as if standing evidence to Hyun’s longstanding fascination with the operating mechanism of mechanical workings, most works proactively put the machine at the forefront. A young boy who liked to open up and disassemble machines and solve mathematical questions goes to an art school, encounters metal as an art material, tries making a pinhole camera during a non-major course, and finds interest in making functioning devices; this was how his current practice began. Hyun explains that analyzing the operating mechanism of machines and realizing them in life was, to him, similar to solving equations and reaching answers in math classes, and he continues to research and create an array of variations on kinetic objects such as watches and automata. On the other hand, Hyun’s works and scenes of him working in his studio have been presented not only in traditional gallery spaces but in documentaries, interviews, and even in advertisements for electronic products. In an age where digital technology is changing the shape of our everyday lives at a breathtaking pace, how is it that Hyun’s works featuring analog machinery would gain people’s attention?

Made Through Care and Pleasure

A flawless, 90-degree corner of the furniture, a seam connecting two pieces of patterned fabric in such a way that the pattern runs on perfectly, a well-finished object can give us a certain visual satisfaction. Admiring high levels of completeness is one of the pleasures we expect from craftworks, and the aesthetic pleasure we feel from the highly intricate mechanical structure of Hyun’s Heartbeat camera series or Skeleton watch series is of this vein rather than the sense of sublimity that mechanical perfections give. To attain precise fits and an accurate operation, Hyun employs various machinery traditional to watchmakers and carves out from scratch every single unit he uses in his work — right down to a 1mm-width screw — and witnessing the countless intricate parts moving together in perfect organic sync is a pure delight on its own.

However, the fascinating and complex movements in Hyun’s works also prompt us to imagine the laborious making processes that lie behind them. According to Hyun, it took him six full years to attain a level of watchmaking that would permit him to make what he wanted to make, and moreover, he had to learn the watchmaking skills on his own. In regards to learning about machining, the knowledge obtainable at an art school was clearly limited, so he learned his trade over the shoulder at the factories in Seoul’s Cheonggyecheon and Uljiro districts and gathered information in various internet communities. There is no doubt in how difficult these proved to be, but Hyun clarifies that he always felt joy whenever he was making his works, not only because he had full control of every stage of his practice but also because he the repetitive labor inherent to craft is pleasurable to him; in fact, this same pleasure is a key factor that allows many craftsmen to persevere in their works. Because the act of making something provides him joy on its own, Hyun delightedly volunteers to make countless minute adjustments to every element in his machine, construct the exact structure that could support and sustain them, and tune and alter the individual parts to perfect harmony. Whether the shutter release of a camera or the dial of a watch, Hyun’s works employ simple forms and compositions, but this extraordinary attention to detail bestows his works unparalleled originality.

Revealing the Innards of Objects

In most cases, the machines and devices we use in our everyday lives keep their workings within and unseen, and this makes it difficult for us to understand how a given object operates, what functions a particular shape may serve, and the principle behind it. On the contrary, Hyun takes the customarily hidden machinery and brings it out to the surface, highlighting the purpose and structure of the object and endeavoring to show us the movements and workings that allow it to function — things typically expelled beyond our sight. Also, choosing to create objects that measure time, such as the camera and watch, and bringing their inner workings to their fore, he gently alludes to his appreciation of earnest, hard work — the time and effort put into carving each cog and screw. Rather than adding adornments to his objects, Hyun candidly presents the movements that allow objects to function and reveals the labor and toil that goes into realizing them, providing an opportunity for his viewers and collectors to reflect upon what time means to us.

Another aspect of Hyun’s practice is that he presents an alternative to our object-consuming culture. Hyun explains that our tendency to expending products — buying new products without much hesitation and throwing them away when they are broken and buying another new product rather than trying to fix what one has already been using — can be traced to our lack of understanding the inner workings and mechanism of an object or device. Presenting objects crafted by prioritizing their structure and purpose — objects which, unlike the products mass-manufactured at factories, allow the user to instinctively understand what their function and mechanism are — he imagines a mode of life in which we carry, use, and appreciate such objects on a daily basis. Hyun’s attempt allows us to view objects from new perspectives and promotes a culture of proactive consumption.

Perfected via the Senses

At first glance, Hyun’s works seem to be something that only extensive engineering and design could achieve, but in fact, the perfecting of the work comes from meticulously trained eyes and the sense of the hand. As his works prioritize simple and unadorned forms and the exposing of the core structure, his craftsmanship essentially determines the aesthetic accomplishment of his final products. In Hyun’s case, as he rarely makes multiple instances of the same work and as there is no such shop that would manufacture parts to the size and type he demands differently each time, he personally crafts the various parts he needs uniquely for each work. Rather than strictly following a set design, he has to invent as he goes, measuring the space and distance between parts, tailoring his components, and assembling the units one by one. In other words, Hyun has to rely on his senses — the gauging of his eyes and the experience of his fingertips. The truth is, the operation of the mechanical watch was perfected around a century ago, and there is not much one could change from it, so watchmakers focus on playing small and large variations within that established framework, and their senses sharpened and polished over time also plays a crucial role in bringing such changes. Furthermore, in Hyun’s case, the hand’s senses go beyond watchmaking and is utilized in creating other works such as automata, depthing tools, and pencil sharpeners, playing a pioneering role in experimenting on and expanding his practice.

Hyun is a maker of objects who approaches his practice with the mindset of an engineer rather than that of an artist. He explains that his studio practice is merely the process of setting a hypothesis, carrying out experiments, and deducing an answer, and the process, using his craftsmanship to solve the various questions and obstacles, bears various results. Similarly, the works he makes would be better defined as the first drafts of experimenting on a machine rather than under singular concepts such as craft or sculpture because his works, albeit each a finished conclusion, also incite curiosity within us, making us wonder how far his ideas might go and how much of them would be realized. The level of confidence hinted by his diligent and unperturbed attitude toward solving complex, challenging questions assure me to dream of the various modes of life he will present to us in the coming days.

Lee Sohyoun (Seoul Museum of Craft Art, Curator, DFA)