South Korea Week: Yi Wan Gyo: NIivada-Beyond Dark
My personal memory of artist Yi Wan Gyo, whom I am introducing today, holds a truly special place in my heart. When I first encountered his work at an art fair several years ago, it exuded a serene aura that stood out amidst the countless flamboyant photographs on display. Despite being in the middle of a bustling exhibition hall, I vividly remember feeling a strange sense of tranquility, as if all the surrounding noise had been washed away the moment I stood before his Hanji-printed pieces.
In the brief conversation I shared with him then, I realized that for Yi, the act of taking a photograph is not merely pressing a shutter, but a process of spiritual discipline—a quest to align himself with nature.
At the art fair, artist Yi Wan Gyo visited my booth, and we shared a profound conversation regarding my “Black Memorabilia” series. We delved into our respective contemplations of the color “Black,” and he offered his insightful interpretation of Kazimir Malevich’s Black Square and the philosophy of Suprematism.
For Yi, black is not merely the absence of light but a spiritual depth that contains all possibilities—a perspective that resonates deeply with Malevich’s quest for “pure feeling” in creative art. This encounter allowed us to bridge our artistic worlds through a shared understanding of abstraction and the void.
Beyond our shared fascination with the color black, there is another unique bond between Yi Wan Gyo and myself: our roots in music. Yi majored in violin, and I majored in vocal music. This shared background in the performing arts allowed us to connect on a deeper level, as we both understood the invisible rhythms and harmonies that underpin visual composition.
We found common ground in how the resonance of a musical note translates into the visual tension of a photograph. It is with a heavy heart that I realize I can no longer engage in these profound discussions with him, and I deeply miss the intellectual and spiritual exchanges.
Nirvada – Beyond Dark
I try not to look.
So, I don’t have any ideas.
It’s just that my eyes are open.
Because my eyes aren’t focused on only one place.
I only felt the remains of a butterfly that has taken wing towards a dark place.
Black one is a mother who conceives all things in the universe and gray and dimness are for obtaining spiritual freedom.
-Yi Wan Gyo
Yi Wan Gyo bases his works on Buddhist enlightenment and Daoist philosophy, embracing Asian concepts of vital energy and a mind without distracting thoughts as the foundation of his creative works. His series Nirvana pursues aesthetics of contemplation, healing, and cosmic unity grounded in vital energy, emptiness, and the dao (the way). The monochrome compositions, rendered through a nuanced color gradient and an expanse of negative space, embody Asian spirituality. The limited tonal range and softened contours are completed in viewers’ imagination, evoking serenity and brightness. Here, black represents the origin, the mother that gives birth to all things, while shades of gray and ethereal light symbolize spiritual freedom and the transcendental realm, or nirvana. Echoing Laozi’s triadic concept of the faint, the rare, and the subtle, the subtlety emerges as an intangible dimension, unseen and unheard yet deeply felt. In that moment, the photographs allow an experience of liberation and tranquility beyond suffering and attachment, recalling the humanity that is often lost in the modern civilization and inviting viewers to contemplate on spiritual healing and restoration.
-Work description Busan International Photo Festival 2025 by Lee Jeongeun
Nirvana-Beyond Dark
Yi Wan Gyo
Beyond Dark refers to the meaning that lies outside the visible image (象外之義)—an attempt to approach the transcendent truths of the universe that exist beyond time and space. Through the objective world of this, I seek to reach the subjective feeling of that which lies beyond.
This pursuit moves from the hardware of perceiving objects toward the software required for the mind and spirit—an ascent from the physical (形而下) toward the metaphysical (形而上), toward spirit (神). Beyond suggests a return to a space without space, a realm where one regains the mysterious power born from the dao (道). It is the crossing from this visible world into the world of Nirvada, the other shore.
Within the dao, through simje (心齊) and zuowang (坐忘), one enters a sacred state where things cannot be seen, heard, or grasped. In this rapture, all things intermingle and become one, freeing us from the fleeting world and offering true freedom and peace.
Beyond is the world of Nirvada—Zhuangzi’s realm where one sees non-being beyond being. It is also Bacon’s invisible essence revealed through the real, and Plato’s world of ideas—the true form behind appearances.
In Chapter 47 of the Tao Te Ching, Laozi states:
“When one remains within form, one gains information.
When one transcends form, one gains inspiration.”
That which transcends form is the work of imagination. Images (xiang, 象)—created through the synthesis of intuitive and intellectual insight—carry their own lifeblood. Plato wrote, “The visible world of becoming is a fiction; the invisible world of ideas is the real.”
This world of ideas arises from the infinite freedom described by Zhuangzi and finds echoes in many Western philosophers:
Hegel: “Essence is revealed through appearance.”
Aristotle: “Through appearance, art can reach truth.”
Kant: “Art is the product of imagination, the result of genius.”
Hartmann: “An artwork is composed of foreground (material) and background (spiritual content).”
Art, then, is an invention that makes visible what cannot be seen.
Because invention is born of imagination, the inner world must be free—Zhuangzi’s free wandering (逍遙遊) rather than Confucius’s regulated path.
Confucius places a ring through the ox’s nose and guides it with reins along a prepared path;
Zhuangzi removes both the ring and the reins, letting the ox go wherever it wills—this, he says, is dao.
Thus, beyond becomes an infinite space of imagination, a birthplace of creation.
When one reaches this realm of “the image behind the image (象久之象),” one perceives the taste beyond taste, the form beyond form.
Paul McCartney’s Yesterday and Let It Be echo Laozi’s teaching of following the natural way, while John Lennon’s Imagine embodies Zhuangzi’s boundless world of beyond.
Degas too invites us to “see what is invisible beyond.”
The great Spanish blind composer Joaquín Rodrigo crafted his Concierto de Aranjuez not from what he saw, but from stories told by his wife about the unseen world beyond the palace walls—a masterpiece born from the beyond.
Zhuangzi sought unity with the invisible beyond through the concept of dao—rejecting constraint to become one with that which cannot be seen.
To practice non-action and non-being is to cultivate the free imagination that forms the foundation of creative invention.
-from Artist Statement
The Photographic World of Yi Wangyo
Setting aside small talk, if I had to distill this photographer’s world into a single core word, it would be “gi (氣)”. In keeping with his own personality, let me begin just as simply and directly. Whenever you meet him, the conversation inevitably circles back to gi; to leave gi out is to leave everything out. His thoughts are entirely concentrated on that one thing. It goes without saying, then, that the fundamental stance of his photography is also gi (氣).
Sometimes you almost want to ask:
“Does he make photographs for the sake of gi,
or does he immerse himself in gi for the sake of photography?”
That is how absolute gi is in his work.
But let me turn the story for a moment.
Around 1989, amid the government’s large-scale push for international openness, the Korean photographic world was hit by a sudden wave of contemporary photography from abroad. One of the key currents was New Topographics / New Photographics, a kind of “new topography” photography—essentially a renewed succession to the tradition of the F/64 Group that arose from the grand landscape of the American West.
As you know, this new tendency attracted considerable interest among younger Korean photographers at the time, and its impact surfaced in various forms through exhibitions and photobooks. Among those who responded to this wave was Yi Wangyo.
Now, many photographers showed interest in this kind of work, but with him there is something distinctly different. I am not speaking of an artistic hierarchy, comparing quality or value. What I want to highlight is a difference in approach. His response to this new photography was clearly distinguished from that of others.
This is precisely what draws me to his work:
his active and self-directed way of receiving what is new.
His basic formula is the fusion of American New Topographic photography with Eastern gi (氣).
In other words, he weds a new Western photographic grammar to an Eastern spiritual content—a photographic practice that pours traditional Eastern spirit into a newly imported Western form.
On the occasion of this exhibition, his active, subjective response to “the new” offers us much to ponder. To speak frankly, how have Korean photographers, from the opening of ports to the present, accepted the great cultural currents of the outside world?
We have typically fallen into one of two patterns:
Uncritical, unconditional acceptance, or
Critical acceptance without an alternative — a reluctant, inevitable acceptance.
That has been our habitual stance toward new photographic cultures from abroad.
Seen in this light, his contemporary stance deserves attention even before we begin evaluating the quality of the work itself.
Before he is a photographer, he is someone deeply engaged with Eastern gi, someone who attempts, through direct practice, to return to the homeland of an Eastern mind. He is, in that sense, very much a Korean.
Opinions may differ, but for me, what matters even more than the photograph itself is the person who makes it—and, most of all, that person’s mind and consciousness.
Why do I think this way?
Because the world of art, like the primordial jungle, is governed by the same law of life: the strong devour the weak.
If you do not devour, you will ultimately be devoured—mentally, spiritually. That is the ruthless survival law of the art world. So yes, when it comes to accepting foreign photographic cultures, the instinctive “cultural appetite” that eagerly throws open the gate is important.
But even more important is something else:
after feasting, you must be able to digest everything completely and effortlessly, with the powerful metabolism of a beast of prey.
This digestive power—this mental strength—is the only real capital that allows us not to be crushed by the predatory force of cultural imperialism.
-Yuk Myung-sim (Photographer, Professor at Seoul Institute of the Arts)
Honbul, Undying Fire
Artistic Director, 2025 Busan International Photo Festival, Lee Il Woo
Present-day Korea has achieved splendid development that astonishes the world, and it abounds with vitality and changes to shape the future. Meanwhile, our memories of the past are fading like an old photo, and the unique spirit and culture that define our identity are overshadowed by grand agendas such as globalization and development.
However, there are values that must be preserved and passed on in our culture. Carried down from the past, the values remind us of who we are and guide us toward what we should seek. It is for this reason that we constantly reflect upon our cultural heritage to apply values in it to our lives today.
The 2025 Busan International Photo Festival, with the theme honbul (“soul fire”), turns its attention to the deep values of spirit embedded in the long history and unique culture of Korea as well as the cultural identity of Koreans. The festival’s exhibits invite us to reflect on our present reality, contemplate on the human condition, and discover the Korean worldview that has been passed down generation to generation.
The exhibition features works by fourteen Korean artists — Kim Woo Young, Park Jin Ha, Sung Nam Hun, Yang Jae Moon, Woo Chang Won, Lee Gap Chul, Lee Sun Joo, Yi Wan Gyo, Lee Jong Man, Chang Sook, Cho So Hee, Han Chung Shik, and Hwang Gyu Tae — and six international artists — David Krippendorff, Henrik Strömberg, Rainer Junghanns, Ralph Tepel, Setsuko Fukushima, and Yana Kononova. The artists’ works compose a narrative of hope and insight uncovered in the abyss, complementing and overlapping each other like the pieces of a patchwork.
Lee Ilwoo
Lee IlWoo is an independent curator and director of the Korea Photographers Gallery.Key Curatorial RolesHe currently serves as Artistic Director of the 2025 Busan International Photo Festival, with the main exhibition ‘Honbul, Undying Fire’. His previous curatorial roles include Artistic Director of the 2017 Seoul Photo Festival ‘Community for Self-reflection; State, Individuals and Us’ and the 2016 Seoul Photo Festival ‘Seoul New Arirang – Like Thousand Miles of Rivers’. He served as Exhibition Curator for the National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art’s ‘Han Chungshik: GOYO’ (2017), Chief Curator of the Arts Council Korea’s ‘Public Art + Regional Revitalization Project: Regeneration of Everyday Life’ (2015), Curator for the Daegu Photo Biennale ‘Full Moon’ (2014), and Curator of the Changwon Contemporary Art Festival ‘Cities of Ancient Futures’ (2013).Additional LeadershipHe was Executive Director of the Urban Gallery Project ‘Chungmuro Photo Festival ‘(2012), Director of Visual Art Center Boda (2009–2011), and ‘Asian Contemporary Art Magazine POINT’ (2010–2011).Early ExhibitionsPrior to curatorial work, Lee IlWoo participated in solo and international group exhibitions such as ‘Voice of Silence'(2010), ‘Stuffed Animal'(2009), ‘In-between'(2008), ‘Portraits’ (2007), and ‘UNTITLED’ (2006)
https://www.facebook.com/ilwoo.lee.58
http://www.bipf.kr/2025/
Posts on Lenscratch may not be reproduced without the permission of the Lenscratch staff and the photographer.
Recommended
-
South Korea Week: Yi Wan Gyo: NIivada-Beyond DarkJanuary 13th, 2026
-
South Korea Week: Han ChungShik: GoyoJanuary 12th, 2026
-
Carolina Baldomá: An Elemental PracticeJanuary 5th, 2026
-
Dawn Roe: Super|NaturalJanuary 4th, 2026
-
Marcia Molnar: The Silence of WinterDecember 24th, 2025
























