Preparing to grapple with the artwork. Courtesy of Sun A Moon
At the Leeum Museum of Art in Seoul, Jung has installed a nearly 50-foot-tall rock-climbing wall titled Kaeru (2024), which means “frog” in Japanese. Red climbing holds zig-zag up the installation in two parallel paths, with a safety rope hanging from an auto belay above. From noon to 5 p.m., Friday through Sunday, visitors can strap on a helmet, harness, and climbing shoes to attempt the climb.
Kaeru is part of a superb and surprising show called “Dream Screen,” curated by artist Rirkrit Tiravanija as part of the Leeum’s biannual “Art Spectrum” series, which is devoted to young artists.
Born in 1986, Jung started climbing a few years ago. “I’ve always been fascinated by artificial climbing walls inspired by nature,” he said. “This piece is motivated by speed climbing, a sport that started in nature but evolved into something quite different.” The height of his creation is set to the international standard, and the current record in the event is just under five seconds.
Brave climbers who make it to the top of Jung’s creation can see two metal sculptures of frogs up close, similar to those at the Okitama Shrine in Ise, Japan, where they are symbols of good fortune. The pair are “wishing for double the speed and double the luck,” Jung said.
Rock climbing in art is unusual but not without precedent. Matthew Barney scaled gallery walls (nude) with climbing equipment early in his career, Andra Ursuta offered not-safe-for-work climbing walls at the New Museum in 2016, and Baseera Khan made climbing holds out of casts of her body parts for a 2017 display at Participant Inc. in New York.
Jung’s approach to the climbing-art genre is almost straightforward but slightly sly, in keeping with his practice. His sculptures tend to look familiar at first but get stranger the longer you look at them. In a recent solo outing at the Art Sonje Center in Seoul, he presented a disassembled billboard and objects 3D-printed from iPhone scans of automobile scraps. At Leeum, he’s using store-bought climbing equipment, but he’s doubled everything and added those frogs, creating an eerie, uncanny feeling.
A brave soul attempting to conquer this mighty artwork. Courtesy of Sun A Moon
The artwork is about tough journeys and split-second decisions, offering challenges: Are you willing to climb in front of an audience? Can you make it to the top? Most people will not be able to, posing fun, fruitful questions about how to evaluate an artwork you cannot fully experience. Even for those who decide not to climb, there is much pleasure to be had. “Climbing is both a sport and an art form, combining sculptural beauty and performative elements,” Jung told me. “It’s fascinating to watch people solve the route in their own way as they climb.
Preparing to grapple with the artwork. Courtesy of Sun A Moon
At the Leeum Museum of Art in Seoul, Jung has installed a nearly 50-foot-tall rock-climbing wall titled Kaeru (2024), which means “frog” in Japanese. Red climbing holds zig-zag up the installation in two parallel paths, with a safety rope hanging from an auto belay above. From noon to 5 p.m., Friday through Sunday, visitors can strap on a helmet, harness, and climbing shoes to attempt the climb.
Kaeru is part of a superb and surprising show called “Dream Screen,” curated by artist Rirkrit Tiravanija as part of the Leeum’s biannual “Art Spectrum” series, which is devoted to young artists.
Born in 1986, Jung started climbing a few years ago. “I’ve always been fascinated by artificial climbing walls inspired by nature,” he said. “This piece is motivated by speed climbing, a sport that started in nature but evolved into something quite different.” The height of his creation is set to the international standard, and the current record in the event is just under five seconds.
Brave climbers who make it to the top of Jung’s creation can see two metal sculptures of frogs up close, similar to those at the Okitama Shrine in Ise, Japan, where they are symbols of good fortune. The pair are “wishing for double the speed and double the luck,” Jung said.
Rock climbing in art is unusual but not without precedent. Matthew Barney scaled gallery walls (nude) with climbing equipment early in his career, Andra Ursuta offered not-safe-for-work climbing walls at the New Museum in 2016, and Baseera Khan made climbing holds out of casts of her body parts for a 2017 display at Participant Inc. in New York.
Jung’s approach to the climbing-art genre is almost straightforward but slightly sly, in keeping with his practice. His sculptures tend to look familiar at first but get stranger the longer you look at them. In a recent solo outing at the Art Sonje Center in Seoul, he presented a disassembled billboard and objects 3D-printed from iPhone scans of automobile scraps. At Leeum, he’s using store-bought climbing equipment, but he’s doubled everything and added those frogs, creating an eerie, uncanny feeling.
A brave soul attempting to conquer this mighty artwork. Courtesy of Sun A Moon
The artwork is about tough journeys and split-second decisions, offering challenges: Are you willing to climb in front of an audience? Can you make it to the top? Most people will not be able to, posing fun, fruitful questions about how to evaluate an artwork you cannot fully experience. Even for those who decide not to climb, there is much pleasure to be had. “Climbing is both a sport and an art form, combining sculptural beauty and performative elements,” Jung told me. “It’s fascinating to watch people solve the route in their own way as they climb.
