Bending the rules: The twists and turns behind Cheon Woo-sun's wire art

Cheon Woo-sun's wire vessels displayed at the Seoul Museum of Craft Art's “Long-Lasting Objects of Metalsmiths" exhibition earlier this year [SOLUNA ART GROUP] [AS A MATTER OF CRAFT] Editor's note: An old cultural genre in Korea has been gaining new recognition on the global stage: crafts. From finalists at the Loewe Foundation Craft Prize to featured artists in numerous exhibitions overseas, the crafts of Korean artists have, as a matter of fact, become reputable works of art. In this series, the Korea JoongAng Daily interviews contemporary craftspeople who each specialize in a certain medium that uniquely represents the prestige of Korean tradition and culture. Related Article'Visualizing the invisible': Artist uses light and glass to capture memoriesReal-life Thor hammers his way to the top of Korea's metalworking world "Open vase 0622" by Cheon Woo-sun. This piece was a finalist for the Loewe Foundation Craft Prize in 2023. [SOLUNA ART GROUP] GOYANG, Gyeonggi — They say that you are what you eat. But for Cheon Woo-sun, the 48-year-old metalsmith, he is what he makes. Linear becomes three dimensional in Cheon’s metal wire vessels, as they are created by curving, bending and welding straight nickel silver or copper wires together to become what the artist describes as “open vases.” The name was given due to the gaps that naturally form between the wires, making the bulbous objects obviously unsuitable to hold fluids. Cheon doesn’t emphasize the wires; it’s the gaps that serve as both the means and the goal of his work. “I think they’re a representation of my personality,” he told the Korea JoongAng Daily in an interview at his studio, peacefully situated among the quaint fields in Goyang. “I don’t like feeling imprisoned and constantly want freedom. I favor honesty over mystery, but at the same time, that doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m fully open myself.” Sounding somewhat contradictory, Cheon followed with the example of a one-way mirror, which is reflective from one side but see-through from the other. It was about leaving even the tiniest bit of room that connects the exterior and interior. And so with the gaps in his vessels, he is rejecting the preconception that a bowl or vase must be enclosed on all sides; to be liberated in his art. “But then again, even the mere preoccupation of creating these gaps may be another way of restricting myself.” Cheon Woo-sun's wire vessels displayed at the Seoul Museum of Craft Art's “Long-Lasting Objects of Metalsmiths" exhibition earlier this year [SOLUNA ART GROUP] The metal crafts industry in the small country of Korea is extremely competitive, yet Cheon has established a strong presence over the years. Domestically, he was the winner of the annual Metalwork and Jewelry Award, hosted and organized by nonferrous metal smelter Korea Zinc, in 2017, with several more accolades from the Cheongju International Craft Competition, Craft Trend Fair and more. Internationally, Cheon was a finalist for the prestigious Loewe Foundation Craft Prize in 2023 for his submission of his “Open vase 0622” piece, a round brown vessel reminiscent of a traditional moon jar. As the number of Cheon’s shape-shifting vessels continues to increase and the more metal wires Cheon bends and twists, the more he feels like he is repeatedly pouring his heart out into every piece. But it’s only inevitable, he says. “When you actually think about it, it’s only natural to empty something out to fill it up again — like with any bowl.” The following interview has been edited for length and clarity. Cheon Woo-sun works on his wire vessels in his studio in Goyang, Gyeonggi [SOLUNA ART GROUP] Q. The metalwork world may be infinite, but a significant portion of it is dedicated to ornaments and accessories. How did you settle particularly on the idea of vessels? A. I went through a period after grad school when I contemplated what the most symbolic craft item is. My answer was the bowl because it’s an object everyone uses in their everyday lives and still falls into the category of crafts. Throughout generations, the concept and forms of the home, clothing and food have ceaselessly changed according to trends and environments, but the bowl has always maintained its most fundamental shape. I wanted to fully visualize the essential function of the bowl, which is to repeatedly hold and empty out liquids or objects through the concept of yumu [the Korean word for existence and nonexistence] by leaving the gaps in between the wires in my pieces. "Open vase 1023" by Cheon Woo-sun [SOLUNA ART GROUP] Speaking of gaps, you also tend to produce shadows from your vessels in exhibitions. Is there a special meaning behind them? I’ve always been so focused on making my crafts that I never thought about how I would display them in museums and galleries. There was this one time when I noticed that a shadow had formed under one of my wire vessels from the bright lighting and it was so beautiful. It’s why, for a group exhibition at the Seoul Museum of Craft Art earlier this year, I deliberately staged my vessels to produce shadows. It was so satisfying to see them appear much less cooped up like in my previous shows. I think the shadows have become the extension of my works and give the illusion of enlarging the space they’re placed in. Cheon Woo-sun works on his wire vessels in his studio in Goyang, Gyeonggi [SOLUNA ART GROUP] How has your work transformed over the years? There were two turning points in my wire vessels; once in 2015 and the other in 2020. My initial works were primarily comprised of wires that all flowed from the same direction. But then I did a solo show in 2015, and that was when I completely changed the direction of my wires, allowing them cross over each other, which gave a fresh overall texture. It was then in 2020 that I first tried out otchil (lacquer coating) on my vessels. Before, I would just laminate the top of the original metal’s color or use chemicals to change the colors. Lately, I’ve been trying out another thing, which is making my vessels bumpier than the usual smooth vase shape. These changes are helpful because it helps prevent making my work process feel like a tedious routine. "Open vase 0324" by Cheon Woo-sun [SOLUNA ART GROUP] What is the process of producing your wire crafts? I start out by sketching, normally just like any other artist, the silhouettes of the vessels on paper. I did study 3-D computer graphics in college but personally I find them inconvenient, so I prefer drawing by hand. But I don’t draw too much in detail because the arrangement of the wires can never be perfectly embodied the same way as how I plan them. I work on the vessel by dividing it into four sides and bend and attach the wires separately, which are then glued altogether. There are two types of techniques used to weld them together: tungsten inert gas welding, or TIG, for the overall shape, and silver soldering when linking the individual wires. Then the vessel undergoes sandblasting for a smoother surface. Finally, I apply otchil or paint it a different color. A close-up of Cheon Woo-sun's vessels [SOLUNA ART GROUP] What makes metal wire a unique material in crafts? The thing with metal is that when you leave it be, it’s firm. It only becomes flexible after heat is applied and it passes through the hands of the craftsperson, which defines it as one of the most straightforward materials out there. As for why I chose wire within the metal category, it’s because it’s such a good material to create gaps than you would with metal boards. They’re much more easy to bend, too. I guess I got mesmerized by the wires’ nimble and fluid characteristics since first trying them out in college. Cheon Woo-sun works on his wire vessels in his studio in Goyang, Gyeonggi [SOLUNA ART GROUP] What is your work philosophy? I never pull an all-nighter when I work, which is very unlike most craftspeople. I’ve worked in Goyang since 2010, around when I got married. After then, I only work during standard business hours, approximately from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. I immerse myself into my work only during this time. This was because I used to always pick my children up after preschool because my wife also has a job. For over 10 years, I was basically half-artisan, half-homemaker. Now that the kids are older, my schedule has become more flexible, but I still maintain this lifestyle. It’s not that I don’t like my work enough, but because most people work during the day, so why shouldn’t I? I frequently recommend this schedule to other craftspeople because I like having dinner with my family regularly and having a drink after a long day. That’s the joy of my life. BY SHIN MIN-HEE [shin.minhee@joongang.co.kr]