COLLAST | ART TAIPEI 2025

COLLAST

B44 / 韓國 / 首爾

 

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COLLAST_ Sung Byunghee_ Monster Garden
成秉憙 | 怪物園 | 壓克力彩、畫布 | 162 x 130 公分 | 2025

Byunghee SUNG begins “painting” from an intense desire that cannot bury the experiential world of darkness that is gradually deepening and growing in the dark. “The hurt caused by the oppression of the other person and the uncomfortable truths stained with it.” She shows them without adding or subtracting them and throws into the picture things like ugly monsters that grow slowly even though she doesn’t want to remember them.

 

So she does ‘art as a craftsmanship.’ Facing the hurt of the viewers, she says that painting is a power that makes her look, know, and walk again. For her, art is not a detour or a wrapping paper that covers it slightly, but it’s like looking at reality directly, even if it’s hard to face.

 

She is an artist who aesthetically expresses the relationship between personal and social suffering in grotesque expressions about human suffering and objects to avoid.

 

Where is evil born and how does it endure?
Why does evil behavior give rise to endless justifications?
Its origin may have been good intentions, but excuses claim it inevitably became evil.
In what is now called the age of hatred,
masses bewitched by evil disguised as virtue and the excuses for that evil are caught in an endless cycle of chaos.
Even what is plainly visible to the eye becomes something else through dazzling excuses.
This isn’t because people are foolish, but because of the powerful force of misguided belief.
It may seem like black comedy at first glance, but it is a stain too grave to laugh at —
a recurring phenomenon that history repeats under the name of “progress.”
But is it truly progress, or regression?

 

Good requires no excuse to exist.
Stained justifications and pitiful repetitions of words only reveal greed.

 

It feels as if we are living in a zoo of monsters,
a “monster garden” made for others to watch.
In a world full of grotesque beings,
we wait in silence — unable to even scream — for this bizarre dream to end.