From October 1st to 13th, Gallery Gyeongbuk (Maru Art Center, Insadong-gil 35-4, 35-6, New Building 2F, Hall 5) hosted a solo exhibition by sculptor and painter Jung Woo-chun.

For Jung, clay is far more than a material—it is a vessel of memory and a mirror reflecting the human psyche.

"Clay is soft, yet heavy; shape it, and it comes alive again," he explains. On his canvases, he scrapes, layers, and sculpts clay, building up traces of time and existence.

 The clay he works with, Baekja clay from Yeoju, serves as the structural core of his practice, bridging the boundaries between sculpture and painting.

"Art is the rhythm of my life. Beyond grand gestures, the daily process of thinking and working with my hands is my study," Jung notes, a quiet resolve reminiscent of a master craftsman. 

Over the past three decades, he has explored human and temporal traces through both sculptural and two-dimensional works.

"Sculpture searches for depth in form; painting, for depth in emotion," he reflects.

Jung’s paintings are rooted in a sculptor’s sensibility. 

Surfaces are either roughly scraped or meticulously built from overlapping rectangular units. The artist likens them to “individual personalities. Each piece of clay is different, just like people. Together, these differences form a unified whole.” The repetitive, nuanced compositions echo the aesthetics of Korean Dansaekhwa (monochrome painting), with artists like Chung Sang-hwa and Park Seo-bo influencing his approach.

Yet Jung extends the philosophy of Dansaekhwa through the tangible presence of clay.

"I want to find depth in simplicity. Simple is not enough; there must be a philosophy within simplicity," he emphasizes.

From Clay to Consciousness

His artistic journey began in high school, inspired by a perceptive art teacher. “After class, I was invited to the art room. 

That was the turning point of my life.” Jung pursued sculpture in college, honing his understanding of the medium under several mentors, including Italian-trained teachers, and continued developing his practice in graduate school.

"Among sculptural materials, clay feels most human to me. It is pliable yet weighted, and every touch reveals a different expression," he says. Recently, he has expanded his practice into two-dimensional works using Yeoju Baekja clay. “Attaching, scraping, and peeling the clay feels like inscribing human time and scars,” Jung observes.

Monochrome Depth, Rhythms of the Unconscious

Jung’s canvases are built from countless stacked rectangles. “They symbolize human diversity. Each piece is unique, but together they form a whole.” The textures created by chance brushstrokes and fingertip manipulation evoke the Dansaekhwa tradition while retaining Jung’s own generative order.

He acknowledges the influence of Korean monochrome masters but is committed to forging his own philosophical language.

"My goal is clear: to express warmth and humanity within a minimalist structure, to find depth in simplicity," he says.

Jung locates the strength of Korean art in “a long tradition and delicate craftsmanship. Our people excel in skillful hands and in assimilating external cultures into something uniquely our own.” He also stresses the importance of supporting emerging artists.

Regarding AI and art, Jung remains pragmatic. “AI is a natural flow of human civilization; it cannot be resisted. But the emotion and warmth of the human hand are irreplaceable. Just as AI has its role, so do artists.”

For Jung, abstraction is an arena of constant transformation. “Even the same work can feel different each time. That’s the charm of abstraction.” 

By merging traditional Korean aesthetics with contemporary sensibilities, he seeks dialogue with the global art scene.

"By drawing from traditional art, architecture, and cultural heritage, we can create a uniquely Korean abstract language with worldwide resonance," he asserts.

"Simplicity is the starting point for depth. Like clay—soft yet resilient—I hope my art endures in the same way."