The Busan Biennale is a biannual international contemporary art show that integrated three different art events held in the city in 1998: the Busan Youth Biennale, the first biennale of Korea that was voluntarily organized by local artists in 1981; the Sea Art Festival, an environmental art festival launched in 1987 with the sea serving as a backdrop; and the Busan International Outdoor Sculpture Symposium that was first held in 1991. The biennale was previously called the Pusan International Contemporary Art Festival (PICAF) before it launched.
The biennale has its own unique attribute in that it was formed not out of any political logic or need but rather the pure force of local Busan artists’ will and their voluntary participation. Even to this day their interest in Busan's culture and its experimental nature has been the key foundation for shaping the biennale’s identity.
This biennale is the only one like it in the world that was established through an integration of three types of art events such as a Contemporary Art Exhibition, Sculpture Symposium, and Sea Art Festival. The Sculpture Symposium in particular was deemed to be a successful public art event, the results of which were installed throughout the city and dedicated to revitalizing cultural communication with citizens.The networks formed through the event have assumed a crucial role in introducing and expanding domestic art overseas and leading the development of local culture for globalized cultural communication. Founded 38 years ago, the biennale aims to popularize contemporary art and achieve art in everyday life by providing a platform for interchanging experimental contemporary art.
Read 203
관리자 2022-12-19 10:17
Early in the morning on January 6, 2011, Kim Jin-suk, a worker who had been laid off by Hanjin Heavy Industries, climbed up on the No. 85 crane at the Yeongdo shipyard, leaving a note in which she said she had “done everything I could on land.” At the time, rumors were rife at the factory that the layoffs of another 400 workers were imminent. After letting go of over 3,000 workers in the past year, the company was planning to fire even more. Kim had no time to recover from the damage wrought on her body by her long hunger strike. She unpacked her things in the crane’s room, which measured just over 3.3 square meters in the area at the height of 35 meters. After years of fighting on the ground for the reinstatement of workers, she had now taken to the sky to battle the company’s downsizing. Her note included no hints as to when she might be coming down.
In 2003, Kim Ju-ik, the president of the Hanjin Heavy Industries union, found himself in the same position in his battle against unjustified layoffs. By the 129th day of his protest, a spokesperson for the Roh Moo-hyun administration was making remarks about how the “era of ‘death as a means of struggle’ has passed,” while the company was approaching its negotiations only half-heartedly. That day, Kim hanged himself from the crane’s railing. Gwak Jae-gyu, a union member who had been close to him, threw himself to his death off of a 50-meter dock. Only after their deaths did the company reverse its layoff decision. For Kim Jin-suk, day 129 was a “target of sorts.” Sitting where her friend of 20 years had taken his own life, she saw the eight years before as having been like an illusion. Perhaps it was to assuage her feelings of guilt that she isolated herself up in the sky. People looked up anxiously at her perch, fearful that the horrible tragedy might repeat itself. However, Kim would later describe her period on the crane as an experience that opened up her five senses. During her time sitting in that three-square-meter space, she had laughed and cried and shared her story with countless people worldwide through 140-character messages on Twitter. “Hope Bus” caravans were also organized to support her in her high-wire protest: over 10,000 people boarded them for five journeys. It was only after the company’s chairperson suffered the indignity of being called to a National Assembly hearing that the layoffs were revised to “leaves of absence,” and Kim ended her aerial protest after 309 days. On November 10, she finally set her feet down on terra firma. Standing straight despite her vertigo, she began by saying, “Wouldn’t it have been wonderful if Ju-ik had come down like this?” The No. 85 crane was taken down shortly thereafter. Rumors spread that the company had done it based on a date given by a shaman. What ended up being taken apart was the Hanjin Heavy Industries management. Chairperson Cho Nam-ho would go on to lose his management authority; even the company’s name was changed to HJ Shipbuilding and Construction.
The Hanjin Heavy Industries aerial protest was a call intended to raise awareness of careless corporate management practices. It spawned a new movement in the form of the Hope Buses organized together by workers and members of the public. It also offered proof of what it took to urge an arrogant corporation to budge: 309 long days up in the air and nearly 10,000 people were coming together. Even today, workers continue to take to the skies: on spires, on watchtowers, on rooftops, and smokestacks. They have done all they could on land.