Oh, I see! moments
Travel Cultures Language

White Box Plus Inspiration Equals Surreal Dreamscape

by Bruce Goldstone on June 30, 2014

A surreal dreamscape created by Jee Young Lee inside her small studio, revealing how imagination and creativity can expand limitations. (© Jee Young Lee, courtesy of Opiom Gallery)

Panic Room
© Jee Young Lee, courtesy of Opiom Gallery

Jee Young Lee’s Imagination Bursts the Limits of a Tiny Studio

In Jee Young Lee’s talented hands, an empty white box becomes the blank page on which the artist creates a surprising self portrait. Using paint and everyday materials, she transforms the small space into a surreal dreamscape.

When the room is ready, she carefully arranges the lighting, walks into her set, and snaps a single portrait.

Then she clears the space and does it again.

A surreal dreamscape created by Jee Young Lee inside her small studio, revealing how imagination and creativity can expand limitations. (© Jee Young Lee, courtesy of Opiom Gallery)

Monsoon Season
© Jee Young Lee, courtesy of Opiom Gallery

Rooms to Grow

Young begins with a 3 m x 6 m space (about 10 feet x 20 feet) consisting of three walls, built within a larger studio space she shares with other artists. Then she paints the plywood walls and begins adding handmade decorations, using anything from paper and Styrofoam to cups and straws.

She works alone, patiently adding detail after detail until  her set is ready. A “quick” room might go together in two weeks; others take several months.

Young admits that “it’s grueling work. Needless to say, it kills my back.” Despite the difficulties, she often becomes so immersed in her new worlds that she can lose track of time.

“I enjoy making things so much that I often work through the night without even realizing it.”

A surreal dreamscape created by Jee Young Lee inside her small studio, revealing how imagination and creativity can expand limitations. (© Jee Young Lee, courtesy of Opiom Gallery)

Gamer
© Jee Young Lee, courtesy of Opiom Gallery

Piece of Mind

Young calls her spaces “rooms of the mind,” reflecting the origin of her ideas. Each room is a psychological space that reflects the artist’s dreams and memories, as well as universal symbols.

When choosing objects, she aims to “express associations or emotions that anyone may experience, such as ‘sweet’ for candy or ‘disgusting’ for cockroach. I use the original meanings of objects, but I usually also use a second meaning.”

A surreal dreamscape created by Jee Young Lee inside her small studio, revealing how imagination and creativity can expand limitations. (© Jee Young Lee, courtesy of Opiom Gallery)

Last Supper
© Jee Young Lee, courtesy of Opiom Gallery

To Young, the colors she chooses “also have symbolic meaning. For instance, I’ll use red to indicate warning or danger, or I’ll use a faded, tarnished color to express a gloomy state of mind.”

A surreal dreamscape created by Jee Young Lee inside her small studio, revealing how imagination and creativity can expand limitations. (© Jee Young Lee, courtesy of Opiom Gallery)

Nightmare
© Jee Young Lee, courtesy of Opiom Gallery

Fables also contribute important imagery to many of Young’s works, including Resurrection, which refers to a Korean legend of a girl who throws herself into the sea and is later reincarnated inside of a lotus bloom.

A surreal dreamscape created by Jee Young Lee inside her small studio, revealing how imagination and creativity can expand limitations. (© Jee Young Lee, courtesy of Opiom Gallery)

Resurrection
© Jee Young Lee, courtesy of Opiom Gallery

Pushing the Limits

Each work is a unique and resonant portrait, yet they build in depth and significance when you view the series. The fact that the widely divergent images are constructed within the same limited space forces viewers to make connections and ask questions.

For example, does the swarming flock of Black Birds have anything to do with the giant eggs of Broken Heart?

A surreal dreamscape created by Jee Young Lee inside her small studio, revealing how imagination and creativity can expand limitations. (© Jee Young Lee, courtesy of Opiom Gallery)

Black Birds
© Jee Young Lee, courtesy of Opiom Gallery

A surreal dreamscape created by Jee Young Lee inside her small studio, revealing how imagination and creativity can expand limitations. (© Jee Young Lee, courtesy of Opiom Gallery)

Broken Heart
© Jee Young Lee, courtesy of Opiom Gallery

Young’s work leads us to a simple but profound Oh, I see” moment: Beyond being simply impressive, her use of a small three-walled studio becomes its own metaphor for the infinite possibilities within a blank canvas.

In fact, constraints often spur creativity, as Belle Beth Cooper wrote a fascinating post. Lee’s work is an example— she has found a way to not simply accommodate her limited space, but celebrate it and expand it.

A surreal dreamscape created by Jee Young Lee inside her small studio, revealing how imagination and creativity can expand limitations. (© Jee Young Lee, courtesy of Opiom Gallery)

I’ll Be Back
© Jee Young Lee, courtesy of Opiom Gallery

Young’s work is represented by Opiom Gallery in Opio, France.

Hey, Could You Please Block My View of This Mural?

by Bruce Goldstone on May 12, 2014

Mural in Buenos Aires, Argentina, illustrating how street art appreciation thrives on interactions with the public. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

Thumbing his nose at the rules of art appreciation?
© Bruce Goldstone

Obstructions and Street Art Appreciation

Like many photographers, my eye is constantly drawn to vibrant murals and colorful street art. I often stake out a spot in front of an exuberant wall and wait for the perfect, pristine moment to capture the image.

Art appreciation guidelines suggest that the artist’s message is best interpreted with as little interference as possible between you and the art.

I’ve spent plenty of time waiting for everyone to get out of the way so I can snap the perfect picture, free of unplanned interlopers. But now I’m not so sure that’s really the best way to catch the spirit and meaning of art created on public surfaces.

It’s Alive!

More and more often lately, I’ve stopped waiting for everyone to clear out. I just snap away.

Mural in Buenos Aires, Argentina, illustrating how street art appreciation thrives on interactions with the public. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

An addled face responds to the rhythms of street traffic.
© Bruce Goldstone

When I go back through my photos, I find that the shots with people in front of them often capture the sensation of viewing street art much better than the pristine gallery shot.

An “Oh, I see” moment came when I was trying to choose the best picture of a mural in San Telmo, Buenos Aires. The shot I took of only the artwork was a fine, clear record.

Mural in Buenos Aires, Argentina, illustrating how street art appreciation thrives on interactions with the public. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

Nice pic, but something’s missing,
© Bruce Goldstone

But the photos with people passing by the mural do a much better job of capturing the playful way the giant apes interact with their close-kin cousins on the street.

Three photos of a mural in Buenos Aires, Argentina, illustrating how street art appreciation thrives on interactions with the public. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

Add a few more primates and a hidden energy springs to life.
© Bruce Goldstone

I’ve come to realize that the interaction between the passersby and the art is an important part of the message in street art.

Random Acts of Finesse

The more photos I take of people in front of murals, the more instances I find of happy accidents and lively synchronicities. Of course, these visual events happen whether or not a camera’s there to record them. They’re a built-in part of the street art experience.

Mural in Buenos Aires, Argentina, illustrating how street art appreciation thrives on interactions with the public. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

Follow the bouncing arrow
© Bruce Goldstone

A rubbery arrow seems to push this woman along the sidewalk.

Mural in Buenos Aires, Argentina, illustrating how street art appreciation thrives on interactions with the public. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

A passing red jacket adds a vibrant burst to the color palette.
© Bruce Goldstone

Colors recombine in surprising and appealing ways, turning people—and their clothing—into part of the design.

Mural in Buenos Aires, Argentina, illustrating how street art appreciation thrives on interactions with the public. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

Waiting for the game to start
© Bruce Goldstone

Contrasting energies create tension and interest. A young soccer player waits for friends to arrive, while the wall in front of him is already in full play mode.

Part of the Art

Even though it seems contradictory, I now believe that street art looks best when you can’t see everything clearly. Obstructions are constructive.

Mural in Buenos Aires, Argentina, illustrating how street art appreciation thrives on interactions with the public. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

Blending in and adding dimension
Bruce Goldstone

It’s the reason that gallery shows of street are are so often disappointing. The sterile viewing conditions of a museum don’t enhance our view of street art—they limit it.

Mural in Buenos Aires, Argentina, illustrating how street art appreciation thrives on interactions with the public. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

Visual overload can be a good thing.
Bruce Goldstone

Of course, murals and other street art are best viewed in person, surrounded by the pulsing action in which they were created.

But since I can’t curb the desire to capture this energy in photos, I’ve adjusted my street art appreciation to include the web of people, pets, and other features that I once thought of as unwanted obstacles. Now I see them as part of the art.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Do Wind-Up Toys Have Inner Artists?

by Bruce Goldstone on May 1, 2014

Artwork created by a tin toy showing how wind-up toys can unleash creative expression. (Image © Echo Yang)

Guess what the artist was thinking. Now guess again.
© Echo Yang

Creative Expression Unleashed with the Turn of a Key

When we look at art, we often try to imagine what the artist was thinking: How is this artwork a creative expression of the artist’s thoughts and feelings? Take, for example, this vibrant starburst of primary dots. What did the artist have in mind?

In this case, chances are pretty good that the artist didn’t have anything in mind at all. That’s because the artist was a tin wind-up toy. Wind-up toys are great, but great thinkers they’re not.

Here’s the wind-up chicken that painted the artwork, armed with a watercolor-dipped cotton swab.

Artwork being created by a tin toy showing how wind-up toys can unleash creative expression. (Image © Echo Yang)

The artist at work
© Echo Yang

OK, to be fair, this wind-up toy didn’t grab the swab and start painting. The set-up was done by artist and graphic designer Echo Yang, who has created a series of autonomous artworks, turning the repetitive gestures of a variety of machines into vivid, creative artworks.

In addition to toys, her team of artists has included an alarm clock, a vacuum cleaner, an electric razor, and a hand mixer.

By attaching mark-making devices to these normally reticent machines, Yang uncovers the hidden beauty in the shapes they trace while working.

The Fun in Function

In Yang’s explorations, function becomes the motor of creation. This video shows Yang and her mechanical collaborator at work.

http://vimeo.com/70360563

If the video does not display, watch it here.

The resulting forms are surprisingly elegant, expressive, and playful.

Artwork created by a tin toy showing how wind-up toys can unleash creative expression. (Image © Echo Yang)

Happy trails
© Echo Yang

The Tracks of My Toys

When I saw Yang’s creations for the first time, I had two immediate reactions. First: “Hey, I have a wind-up bird that’s an awful lot like that one.”

Then: “I wonder if my bird wants to be an artist, too?”

There was only one way to find out.

I began my experiments by taping a thick marker to my bird’s back. I wound it, placed it on a newsprint pad, let it go, and waited to witness the magic of mechanical creation.

Except my bird didn’t budge.

A tin toy trying to create art showing how wind-up toys and unleash creative expression. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

Some artists can be quite stubborn.
© Bruce Goldstone

Apparently, the heft of the chunky marker was too much deadweight for my little toy. If I was going to find my bird’s inner artist, I needed to consider the capacity of its tiny inner machinery, too.

So I attached a smaller, lighter marker to see what my bird was dying to show me. This time when I wound it up and placed it on the pad, the bird hopped along nicely.

A tin toy creating art showing how wind-up toys can unleash creative expression. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

This artist prefers a light touch.
©Bruce Goldstone

But the feeble results looked like, well, chicken scratching.

If my bird wanted to be an artist, it clearly wasn’t approving of my choice of medium.

Perhaps my bird preferred paints?

For my next attempt, I tried a light brush dipped in watercolor gouache.

Artwork created by a tin toy showing how wind-up toys can unleash creative expression. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

A brush with success
© Bruce Goldstone

Eureka. My toy scampered along happily, its usual happy hopping only slightly interfered with by the awkward new encumberance.

Some Toys Shouldn’t Quit Their Day Jobs

While Yang’s toy hopped in spirited circles, mine tended to follow a more arching track each time I set it down. The results in green gouache somewhat resembled fern fronds.

If the video does not display, watch it here.

We decided to add a couple of pink passes for contrast.

Art created by a toy showing how wind-up toys can unleash creative expression. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

I didn’t know ferns had berries . . .
© Bruce Goldstone

Careful analysis of the final artwork led to an “Oh, I see” moment: Maybe all wind-up toys want to be artists, but there’s still such a thing as talent. And my bird . . . well, he’s very cute.

Where Yang’s artwork is graceful and suggestive, my bird’s artistic hand is rather leaden and sluggish.

Yes, of course, I blame the bird.

My conclusion? Wind-up toys and other machines can indeed foster creative expression. But it takes a true artist, like Echo Yang, to uncover those hidden impulses in a genuinely artistic way.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Copyright © 2011-2025 OIC Books   |   All Rights Reserved   |   Privacy Policy