Kim Whanki

signed in English and dated 70 on the reverse, framed

Acquired directly from the artist
Collection of Meshulam & Jahudit Riklis, New York
Estate of Jahudit Riklis, Jerusalem/New York
Collection of Abraham Havilio, Jerusalem
Phillip's de Pury & Company, London, February 12, 2009, lot 38
Acquired by the present owner from the above sale

This work is generally in good condition. There is some minor wear and handling, especially around the edges. Having examined the work under ultraviolet light, there appears to be no evidence of restoration.
"In response to your inquiry, we are pleased to provide you with a general report of the condition of the property described above. Since we are not professional conservators or restorers, we urge you to consult with a restorer or conservator of your choice who will be better able to provide a detailed, professional report. Prospective buyers should inspect each lot to satisfy themselves as to condition and must understand that any statement made by Sotheby's is merely a subjective, qualified opinion. Prospective buyers should also refer to any Important Notices regarding this sale, which are printed in the Sale Catalogue.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF BUSINESS PRINTED IN THE SALE CATALOGUE."

Preserving the Past, Capturing the Future
Kim Whanki

When one turns to contemporary Korean art, one cannot deny the depth and breadth of the influence Kim Whanki had on the art movement. From humble biographical works to weighty retrospectives, Kim’s presence is never far from any discussion concerning the art of Korea—but also its culture, its traditions and its philosophies: indeed, his is more than just a household name. Kim, whose eminence extends even to the contemporary Asian art movement as a whole, worked tirelessly throughout his artistic life, leaving behind a huge variety of works that span various media, including oils, paper, collages, ceramics and woodworks. The present sale presents two works from two vastly important periods of Kim’s life: Immortal Crane and Vase which was painted in the fifties, during the artist’s brief sojourn in Paris, and Untitled, which was painted in the seventies, during Kim’s years in New York.

By the end of the thirties and upon his graduation from the College of Fine Arts at the Nihon University, Kim had already produced approximately five hundred original works, an early sign of the same arduous spirit the young artist would carry through to the end of his career. As a fresh graduate, Kim entered an original piece, When the Larks Sing (1935), into the Nikakai Exhibition for the first time. The piece, which was rendered in the Romantic styles of the West, hinted at Cubism and Futurism, artistic modes that Kim was no doubt exposed to through Japan. Despite its apparently Western rendering however, it was a work that did not shy away from Kim’s Korean identity and the art that was popular at the time; rather, it was in line with Modern Korean pieces that depicted quotidian scenes of farming, fishing, or indeed intimate domestic scenes. This adept amalgamation of Tradition and Modernity would become the basis for Kim’s entire oeuvre.

The quintessence of Korea would become all the more important to the artist during his first years abroad—which is when Kim painted Immortal Crane and Vase. In 1956 Kim and his wife left for Paris, and it was while he was abroad in this great city of modern art, with a great distance between himself and his home, that a clear and comprehensive contemplation of all things Korean could be achieved. To study or work in Paris was a goal many young Korean artists worked towards, and to be able to show one’s works in the city of art itself was beyond dreams. When Kim arrived in Paris, the Art Informel movement had given way for Nouveau Réalisme, which would produce the likes of Yves Klein. But having been exposed instead to grand masters during his time as a student, Kim was drawn to other artists, such as Bernard Buffet, Alfred Manessier, and Pablo Picasso, the latter of whom he had to say, “Picasso is the only one. My hat off to him—he’s superhuman!”¹

Turning to Kim’s Immortal Crane and Vase (Lot 762), one can see both homage as well as a departure from the Korean Modernist style. While the crane, vase and plum blossom are important symbols in the lexicon of traditional Korean art, Kim has deftly depicted them in a unique style. The crane, a traditional symbol of longevity and loyalty, is a common trope in Eastern artworks. When combined with the image of the plum blossom—which weathers the harshest of winters and blossoms in spring—the crane can be seen as the very image of immortality and strength. A great lover of ceramics, Kim also included a vase painted in the style of Yi Dynasty pottery in the present work, a motif which began to appear in his works from the fifties. On his love for ceramics his wife, Hyang-an had to say: “Whanki loved the ceramics and woodwork crafts of the Yi Dynasty. From 1944 to 1950, almost every evening, he brought home at least one jar or wooden ware…To Whanki the jars were living, breathing creatures.” Presented against a background of mountains and clouds, these three things can be understood as pure happiness for Kim, and it is no wonder that these objects appear in vast numbers in pages upon pages of the artist’s sketchbook, under the title “Sketches of Immortal Things”. To Kim, all things could ebb away, but the quintessentially Korean past—of cranes, plum blossoms, vases, mountains—would be immortal, forever preserved in an idyllic corner in his mind’s eye.

It is also not difficult to detect a certain Picasso flair in Immortal Crane and Vase, painted while Kim was in Paris, where he was exposed to large amounts of famous works. Of course, Kim’s hero too was fascinated by ceramics and sculptures, producing, for example, Les Demoiselles D’Avignon (1907), which was greatly inspired by African sculpture and face-masks. Kim’s current piece also exhibits some similarities with Picasso’s Cubist works—but perhaps the starkest likeness that the two artists shared was their mutual self-discovery in Paris. Later on, Kim would note, “I feel the spirit of poetry in Paris. One should hear songs in art. Many great works possess powerful songs. I finally got to know the song I have been singing all these years, just as I got to know the bright sun in Paris.”²

In these mere three years that Kim spent in Paris, he had five one-man exhibitions, including one show in Nice and one in Brussels, Belgium. For an artist who was completely unheard of, he garnered a huge amount of support, attracting the attention of an art dealer who noted that his pieces were “beautiful, full of poetic and mysterious sentiments”,³ with surfaces that “reminded him of the skin of ceramic.” All of which can be seen in the simple yet alluring Immortal Crane and Vase, which is deeply symbolic of Korea as well as a valid interpretation of the concepts of immortality. But perhaps equally important are the ways in which elements within Immortal Crane and Vase underscore the abstract works that Kim would later produce.

According to Kim, “all things I paint are inspired by white porcelain, including colour.”  This comment is highly suggestive of a later contemporary Korean movement, Tansaekhwa, or Monochrome Painting, where a single colour becomes the starting point for meditative pieces. Combined with the minimalist curving lines of the branches and distant hills in Immortal Crane and Vase, one can definitely feel the emergence of the single colour and arcs later to be found in Untitled.

In 1963, Kim Whanki moved to New York, the same year he participated in the São Paulo Art Biennale as both a commissioner and artist—the first time Korea ever participated in the event. Whereas Paris had encouraged Kim to turn inwards and focus on the very essence of Korean art—that which was personal to the very identity of Kim—New York urged Kim to look outward, to push himself creatively; to align himself and his art with a larger world beyond Korea.

While in New York, Kim’s art underwent a huge amount of change. Writing in his diary in the mid-sixties, the artist recalls, “…[I] feel terribly homesick for Korea. I can’t seem to separate my art from Seoul…I like the work I’ll be painting from now on. Simple composition, the subtle colour of blue—only I can create my world. It’s getting darker outside.”⁴

It is around this time that there is a clear shift from Kim’s older, more figurative works, to his pieces of pure abstraction. In 1965, dots, lines and vast planes became the only elements of his canvases. The mountains, moons and objects which were so prominent only a decade earlier had all but disappeared—which adds, all the more, to the rarity of Immortal Crane and Vase.

But to turn back to Untitled, which was produced at the height of Kim’s artistic maturity, is to read the piece as a culmination of the artist’s development as well as emancipation from a world of difficulty. Painting in an artistic climate after Robert Rauschenberg had won the Grand Prize at the Venice Biennale for his contributions as Pop Artist, and where Abstract Expressionism was still enjoying relative success, Kim’s art was often misunderstood. According to one overly simplistic review written by the New York Times about Kim’s pieces, “There is no trace of Asia in the works of this Korean artist. He is mainly influenced by Abstract Expressionism…”⁵

Far from the case, Kim worked indefatigably to produce works in a language that was unique to him, one that can be seen plainly if one were to look at his works collectively. By the time we reach 1970, Kim’s fate had changed completely, which was the same year that he won the Korean Art Grand Prize—it is around this time that the artist turned to the cosmos at large, leaving behind mountains and cliffs for stars and galaxies.

When one turns to Untitled (Lot 763), one can see that it differs greatly from its 1960 counterparts. The dots, or webs of dots, are not simply overlaid on a coloured background, but rather, they appear to be floating, creating an illusion of a floating web. Heavily hypnotic, the work is compositionally interesting, imbued with serenity. The apex of the downturned triangle is aligned perfectly with the centre of the concave dip of the triangular shape poised below it, creating an overall feeling of precision and unity. With pink speckles peeking through the web of the tiled background, Untitled is an enchanting and stellar example of Korean Abstract art, but more importantly, it is part of the concluding chapter on the remarkable career of Kim Whanki.

Even after his death in 1974 a slew of different commemorative exhibitions were held in both New York and at the São Paulo Biennale in November 1975. But perhaps the most important event to happen after Kim’s passing was the opening of the Whanki Museum in Seoul in 1992. There, finally, was a permanent place where the memory of Kim and his art could remain, fully solidifying his firm place as one of Korea’s most influential and noteworthy artists of the modern and contemporary era. 

1 Kim Whanki, “Mountain”, p.69

2 Kim Whanki, “Mountain”, p.82

3 Kim Hyang-an, “Pusan Period: 1951-1953”, p.133

4 Oh Kwang-su, Kim Whanki: A Critical Biography (Korea: Youl Hwa Dang Publisher, 1998), p.97

5 Oh Kwang-su, Kim Whanki: A Critical Biography (Korea: Youl Hwa Dang Publisher, 1998), p.102

Caption for image:

i) Kim Whanki, Untitled (Sketches of Immortal Things), Ink on paper, 1955, ⓒWhanki Foundation • Whanki Museum  

ii) Kim Whanki, Untitled (Sketches of Immortal Things), Ink and watercolor on paper, 1955, ⓒWhanki Foundation • Whanki Museum  

iii) Kim Whanki at his studio in New York City, 1972 ⓒWhanki Foundation • Whanki Museum