6x4

Blessings for the lunar new year!

When I was younger I didn’t really understand the meaning of such cultural celebrations, I just thought of them as pleasant relics of my Korean heritage that I didn’t quite understand. But as I grow older I am realising how deeply significant these traditions are, allowing us to engage in the ritualised creation of meaning. Even though the cultural context changed when my family immigrated across the pacific ocean, the spirit of these celebrations remain the same. This is so important when capitalism and ongoing colonial power structures seek to alienate us from ourselves, our communities, and the natural environment. So often the stories about who we are get told to us, but our cultural celebrations tie us to our past in order to situate us in the present and allow us to tell our own stories. We can mark the passing of time at the pace of the heavens rather than the beat of the clock, reminding ourselves that we are a step in the dance of the cosmos. This is a heartening reminder, especially when things seem dark. I reach out and kindle hope in closeness with friends and family.

This video shows the process behind two of the works for ‘Yawning at the Fray’, a show I made in collaboration with Ruby Chang-Jet White for The Physics Room last year. The hand sewn silk hangings, ‘A house made from inherited bricks’, were made exactly to fit the windows at the physics room. Gina Russell from Growing Textiles NZ helped me dye them with organic indigo that she grew herself at the BHU organics college. In Korea there is a tradition of giving fine silver spoons and chopsticks to couples who are getting married. My parents and maternal grandparents were given such gifts, and these were passed down to me. I melted them down to make ‘Sing me the songs you used to sing’, a hammered bell hanging on a twisted cord of indigo-dyed silk.

These works are steeped in the warmth of the relationships that brought the materials to my hands. We do not come from nowhere, we are not isolated individuals: we are deeply interconnected. Let us find hope, direction, and purpose in remembering that we are the ancestors for future generations.

With love

Earlier this year I made a connection with Gina, Charlotte, and Bella of 'Growing Textiles NZ' at the Biological Husbandry Unit Organics Trust (BHU), a joint venture between Lincoln University and the New Zealand Organic Movement. At the end of the Summer I went to help harvest some of their organic indigo. I took home some leaves to use for dye and a few months later I went back for a bundle of retted and dried linen. This was my first attempt at processing some of the linen. Without any proper tools I just used a rolling pin to break then scutch the linen. Finally I heckled it with a comb to produce some fibre that is ready for spinning. The short, coarse fibres that came as a result of this process I combed out and spun into a rough twine.

Coil basket vase made from Crocosmia (Coppertip) leaves harvested from the front of the house where I live. Every year I dry the seed heads to use in dried arrangements but I wanted to find a use for the leaves. I used jute twine to make them into a coil basket vase. After it was completd I torched it to removed the jute fluff and loose leaves. I wanted it to have a dark finish so I coloured it with tung oil mixed with crushed charcoal from the fireplace. Once this oil cures it will harden and give the basket a rigid structure.