Author: Shin-hee Chin

Because my worldview has been shaped by my experiences as a woman, a mother, and an immigrant, my work is an effort to draw connections between my inner life and the world beyond. 

I spent the first 29 years of my life in Korea, speaking Korean, living amongst Korean people. When I immigrated to America, I found that in order to communicate I had to abandon my mother tongue. In this way, I had to re-orient my identity; my relationship to the world.  Abandoning my mother tongue did not mean instant assimilation; to this day, I am an “other” because of my accent, my understanding of grammar is different. There was a distinct sense of loss, of losing my cultural identity. 

 While I was becoming an American, I also became a mother. It demarcated my life into two stages: having a mother tongue (29 years) and having motherhood (25 years). Balancing a career and a family is the story of many American women’s lives. It is a struggle that comes with acutely painful choices. Being a mother was in many ways a burden to my career, but it was not without its joys. It enriched my life with love that I would not have otherwise experienced. 

These two events happened largely at the same time in my life, and I began to see links between the two. In birth, a person must let go of their mother, cease to be connected to her body.  In the same way, I found myself having to let go of my mother tongue in order to have a voice in this new place. In these frustrations I found incentive to find yet another voice in my artwork. In the visual, I found more freedom and refuge from the struggles that accompany language barriers. It’s these tensions that I seek to explore in this body of work. Is motherhood a shackle or a wing? Is a mother tongue a yoke or an anchor?

As a person who has spent half her life in South Korea and the other half in the United States, cultural context has shaped almost all my works. During my time in America, I have lived on both coasts before settling in the Midwest. Humans are typically the subject matter in my work, but my 15 years as a Kansan have changed my relationship to the subtle landscape of the Great Plains. “Splendor in the Grass” sets out to explore the cultural and artistic encounter through a new frame of reference and aesthetic investigation.

The tradition of landscape in Western art has been increasingly concerned with reproducing nature; whereas Eastern landscape art is more interested in reproducing a stylized vision of nature. Despite the differences between these approaches, there are distinct parallels and consonances. The intention of, creating landscape is to suggest the essence, the eternal qualities of the landscape beyond reality, something sublime. It is imbuing the landscape with a “spirit resonance” or vitality. The process of the work is a record of energy being transferred from the artist into the work.

The primary medium and method for these works (fiber, thread and stitching) provide a unique agent of interpretation with their tactile richness, vibrant color, multilayered depth, as well as the complex cultural roles of this medium. By incorporating fiber, I convert the conventionally feminine activity of needle works into a medium for art making. The slow, repetitive nature of stitching enables me to be more mindful of the present moment. I symbolically partake in creating a new synthesis of East and West, Craft and fine art, artist and nature, Korea and Kansas.

4 quilts each for specific prairie grasses: tall bluestem, Indian grass, switch grass, little bluestem.

Loosely inspired by the writings of the Polish poet Adam Mickiewicz, Frederic Chopin composed his 4 Ballades. Because there were four, I created a correlation between the music and the tall grasses of the prairie. Ballads are a folk-art form, they were created and meant for ordinary people combining the art forms of story-telling, music, and dance.

Chopin was a Polish immigrant living in France and I am a Korean immigrant living in America. I see consonances between our circumstances, because both our countries of origin have a history of political strife. The four ballades share common features, but they are no less than individual works. Inspired by these ballades, I decided to make quilt with threads. My works are an homage to the plebeian class, a way of giving voice to the plight of those who were powerless in the face of larger political forces, without using words.

My intention in creating this series is also to show my appreciation of the people and grassroots movements. Each individual thread, like a blade of grass in a field, is an integral piece of the quilt. Each human lives their own narrative, but regardless of their course, these lives are contributions to history, the great story of humanity.

Though the words “house” and “home” are often used interchangeably, it makes sense to differentiate between the two concepts.  The fact is that a house, apartment, or other structure is relatively stable. On the other hand, a home is abstract and ever fluctuating because it lives in a mind. Home can be any number of spaces, and can belong to any number of people; no deed or lease is needed. One’s relationship to home may also be complicated. Pleasant memories mix with unfortunate or bittersweet ones, because home is not one flavor. Rather, it is a full medley of tastes. The notion of home emphasizes much more than the notion of a house because of its psychological significance to individuals and its cultural meaning.  While to live in a house is to occupy, to live in a home is to dwell.

Over the course of my life, I have lived in 12 spaces, but some felt more like home than others. While the world outside might be unstable and out of my control, I can work to keep a sense of homeostasis (or solidity) within my walls.  The abstract drawings and paintings in the House series are my reflections on each of these spaces, spanning from Korea to the United States. By happenstance or preference, the residences that felt like home were all a one-family house with a small yard. When I lived in apartments and dormitories, I felt unanchored.

Through the House and Home exhibit, I look at how I feel about my home and how I shape the house to live. “House and Home”, it is more than simply a shelter, but it is a reflection of my inner self.

As a person who has spent half her life in South Korea and the other half in the United States, cultural context has shaped almost all my works. Humans are typically the subject matter in my work, but settling in the Midwest have changed my relationship to the subtle landscape of the Great Plains. “Reflection: Spirit Resonance” sets out to explore the cultural and artistic encounter through a new frame of reference and aesthetic investigation.

The tradition of landscape in Western art has been increasingly concerned with reproducing nature; whereas Eastern landscape art is more interested in reproducing a stylized vision of nature. Despite the differences between these approaches, there are distinct parallels and consonances. The intention of creating landscape is to suggest the essence, the eternal qualities of the landscape beyond reality, something sublime. It is imbuing the landscape with a “spirit resonance” or vitality. The process of the work is a record of energy being transferred from the artist into the work. 

The primary medium and method for these works (fiber, thread and stitching) provide a unique agent of interpretation with their tactile richness, vibrant color, multilayered depth, as well as the complex cultural roles of this medium. By incorporating fiber, I convert the conventionally feminine activity of needle works into a medium for art making.  The slow, repetitive nature of stitching enables me to be more mindful of the present moment. I symbolically partake in creating a new synthesis of East and West, Craft and fine art, artist and nature, Korea and Kansas.

Thus, this project sets out to explore the potential mixtures or cultural hybridization as a representative mechanism through which the media and techniques of traditional Korean and American cultures are incorporated in new ways of art making.