Art Elemento Tres

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KUNSTHALLE GWANGJU is a cultural showcase of the asian culture complex and a part of the hub city of asian culture project.



My name is Goeun Ham, and I am an art lover and an art student at Chosun University. When I saw Art Elemento Dos’, I thought that someday I could contribute to the magazine. Luckily, the occasion was not long in coming. A friend encouraged me to write and to submit some of my work for Tres. I accepted the opportunity because this amazing magazine allows local and foreign artists the opportunity to share their work—and, in turn, their emotions, thoughts, and beliefs—to the public through a new medium in Gwangju and beyond. For me, a medium, like Art Elemento, is a unique and important method to exhibit art—which to me is a creative, visual and oratory technique exhibiting the human condition and demonstrating the human spirit. Here, I share some of my art. In the two water color pieces enhanced by photo editing software, I felt raw desire. The other piece is a fun tribute to Marcel Duchamp, hoping that antiestablishment art will be made of my work.


Welcome to issue tres Every issue of AE is special and full of outstanding work, but this month’s issue raises the bar featuring photography for the first time, and guests artists from all over Korea. When you are so excited about every page in the magazine it is hard to know where to start, but I think I will kick things off by talking about Mark Eaton’s work which captures beauty almost anywhere he look; line, perspective, pattern, texture, light, shadow, or character. His work is based in the irony, conflict and beauty of life. What is perceived reality is not always so upon closer inspection and introspection. In this issue he shares some of his black and white photography, which he believes is how he sees best.

FOUNDER / Joe Wabe EDITORS/ Hannah Messmann, Amanda Hollingworth, Andrea Galvez, Eleny Rosado, Lorryn Smit, Frank McKinley ART DIRECTOR/ Joe Wabe CONTRIBUTING WRITERS/ Michael Thompson, Joe Santy, Matt Reigh, Hirase Hiho, Eleny Rosado CONTRIBUTING ARTISTS/ Greg Reynaud, Jess Hinshaw, Anjee Disanto, Mark Eaton MEDIA/ Odette Wessels ADVERTISING/ Joe Wabe PRINTING/ Alex J. Hwang WEBSITE/ EMAIL/ SPECIAL THANKS/ To all the people who contributed to this editions from and outside Gwangju.

Issue Tres also features photography from Angiee Disanto who has sought to develop her talent while exploring concepts of ritual and beauty in more than 30 countries. Her primary interest is to stir viewers to examine scenes they would usually see as broken, “dirty,” or damaged. If you are unfamiliar with their work prepare to discover the meaning and detail in objects that might have been overlooked. This month’s cover is the handiwork of the fantastic Daegu based artist Jess Hinshaw. Jess is a great artist who blows us away with every new image and in this issue she kick starts our issue tres. I am sure that you will agree that this is another stunning issue of AE. The gallery is also full of further featuring work from Greg Reynaud, that give us a little bit of Mexican taste with its vivid color schemes. I hope you have a creative fall and if you have any work you would like to share with us we would love to see it. Hopefully there is something in here that will help you get started! Enjoy issue tres.

Cover art by Jess Hinshawe




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Greg Reynaud

Coming from a Mexican American background, the vivid and sometimes gaudy color schemes used in Mexico to paint buildings has always interested me. The concrete structures in these cities and towns in central Mexico are smothered in colorful vitality. This mixture of working class roots and a passion for life serve as the main inspiration for this aspect of my work. I have been painting for nearly 7 years and have explored many styles and themes, but I am often brought back to Mexican culture.


Creativity is something that is very important to me. Several musical projects and painting have done well to keep me occupied during these 4 1/2 years in South Korea. Without them, life would certainly be less enjoyable, no matter what country I live in.

“Creatividad es algo muy importante para mi� Artwork Music


These characters in this propaganda have very subtle strength--misrepresentation and clever appeals to our senses and sexual desires makes for easy manipulation.

JESS HINSHAW We are in a constant struggle to maintain our own thoughts and retain our own identity. Imagery created by marketing teams and advertisers is presented to us as a mirror, a reflection of who we are. This “mirror” is actually a fabricated reality, one whose goal is to create a customer out of its audience. These characters in this propaganda have very subtle strength--misrepresentation and clever appeals to our senses and sexual desires makes for easy manipulation.


Jess Hinshaw’s work will be part of a show in Daegu opening on September 17th.

News outlets and glossy pages in magazines initiate a dialogue with us, showing us what we should do and who we should be, all the while stripping from us the inconvenience of individual thought. The attention and captivation paid to these facades becomes detrimental, allowing them to easily sell whatever they like, effortlessly bringing us to a point where we are trapped by this forced relationship.


I!m Anjee. For th e past few years I!ve had a ‘th ing! for dilapidated gra veyards and church es, decaying graffiti, and condemned colonial mansions. Don!t worry. I!ve had my tetanus sh ot.

Anjee DiSanto When a monk offers you a potato, or a juice box, or a coaster from the dollar store for that matter, you take it. Same as if he offers you wisdom. Rule #81 of the wanderluster’s creed. On that day, it was a potato, and the wisdom was more of a reminder. He had asked me why I was there—at an obscure, deserted temple—sitting in the dirt with a camera in the blistering sun. My knee was scraped as well (as usual). A Hello Kitty post-it note awkwardly covered the drips of blood, but he didn’t seem to notice.


“I just think Buddhism is beautiful,” I’d said. “Yes,” he nodded. “But everything is beautiful.” …and who could argue with that? In soft tones, he spoke of wrinkles on faces and cracks in buildings, and how we must remember to see these as art: as signs of life… of having lived. “Erosion,” he rasped, “is time’s masterpiece.”

Som etim es, simple words from strangers with potatoes are th e wisest of all.


“ MARK EATON Water’s Mood

I am interested in the irony and conflict and beauty of life. What is perceived reality is not always so upon closer inspection and introspection. The routine and commonplace, while too often overlooked, is often the source of beauty and that is meaningful. There is pain, yet there is joy also.


Amphitrite, beautiful above and below surface’s divide, is faithful, yet comes and goes as she deems necessary. To rest from the demands of her husband or to flirt with mortality, she isn’t loquacious, nor is she imperialistic when she transitions from faithful to the One. But she is salacious to mortals, to those who don’t know her heart, to those who are slaves to the desires of others. Alas, a glimpse is fleeting, maybe even thought to be an hallucination thanks to the devil’s grog, or because a mind is filled with superstitions claimed sacred and sacrosanct. Amphitrite, she comes and she goes, always faithful to that which she knows


Award winning and published fine art photographer who exhibits in public and private galleries in the United States and in South Korea. A regular contributor to news publications and art publications provides opportunities to connect and to build communities and networks internationally.


Respect of self and of others and the unique cultural perspective of a society gives strength and meaning to the collaborative work of each photograph. The natural and professional approach to the art of photography enhances the minimalism effect and eliminates the distractions that can hide the meaning of a composition.


disco nights by Michael Thompson

Underground is all about. We are a collection of DJs, musicians, and producers with various styles and tastes, working to bring a more diverse environment. I’ve always been a fan of the underground and Indie scenes, no matter what the genre is. Gwangju has provided an outlet for folks to be active and creative. Although there might be a few obstacles because of a small environment, the potential is there. I am glad to be a part of this scene. Hopefully, others (native or expat) will be inspired to look far and deep to find something that breathes life into the scene too.

When I was a university student, back in my home state of Missouri, I would chill out at a coffee shop, chat with friends, play chess, or whatever I was in the mood for- at that moment. Sometimes, a random stranger would stop his car in the middle of the street and run towards me to give me a flyer. In one of these strange occasions, my friends freaked out – they thought these folks were some sort of religius freaks passing out literature! It turned out to be a flyer for an underground DJ party. Later on that day, I convinced a friend to come along. I memorized the date and when the time came, and we embarked on one hell of an adventure to get there… There was no address, only a phone number, so I called and there was a message to go to a coffee shop in Saint Louis. “A muthaf**kin’ coffee shop?” my inner voice speaks out loud. We drove for 90 minutes to St. Louis, to this coffee shop, where I purchased my ticket and listened to the DJ that was playing- thinking that this was the actual event. A fine feline in a tank top and baggy jeans told me to call the number on the ticket as it would take me to the main event. So, I called the number, and the message gave me some cryptic directions for getting to the venue. My friend and I had to

travel about 90 miles outside St. Louis to a small town in central Illinois. We travelled on a few rural roads, and eventually made it to a bowling alley. The party was spread out over the interior, and out behind the bowling alley, in an open field. Inside, we saw hundreds of people dancing to the sounds of house, hiphop, drum and bass and so on. I was amazed at the diversity of the music and the people in the place. There was no animosity, mean mugging, or anything negative - just positive vibes. There was a constant movement of glow sticks in the dark, putting folks in a daze, and of course there were kids tripping on the drug, “du jour”, but overall the folks felt the music, they felt the love of loops. The hard hitting beats seemed to go on forever. Well, in reality, they did go on for a couple days… In Gwangju, when it comes to the music scene, it seems that there is a lack of diversity. The DJs play the same set of tracks, the bands play the same covers, it’s like “1984”- for nightlife. There are now bands, DJs, and other music groups that are challenging the so-called “status quo”. They refuse to sound like the average band, or nightclub DJ. This is what the Gwangju

The underground means that one is searching deep and going far to findsomething the average person cannot find or understand. Without the underground, the mainstream cannot exist. I am not going to go into great depth about the underground in regards to music and art; I would rather go in the direction of bringing in something that is not easily accessible.



Pushing in the City of Light By Joe Santy

I’ve been obsessed with skateboarding since I starting “pushing” at 13 years old. In the past decade I’ve learned so many tricks; my favorites include getting broke in front of random strangers, running from security guards, getting trespassing warrants, and cruising through traffic while bombing hills. (Plus, of course, SSBSTS, fakie 5, tre flips, pole jams, wallies… but you have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?) Skating has introduced me to a wide variety of amazing people and places. I’ve skated most of the biggest US cities, from NYC to Miami, plus Barcelona, Salamanca, and a spattering of others. Every new place has its own style and scene, and it’s heavy experiencing them with interesting people. There’s nothing like seeing a city from its streets, rails, dips and stairs. A skateboarder sees the world the pedestrian can’t catch and the biker flies

past. In the small moments when my sneakers escape the board and my body just commits, I see the cracks and the smiles and the hues of a community. Then I land it and roll on, looking for the next glimpse. I randomly came to Gwangju last November to get some dough, experience a new culture, hang out with some new people, but mostly I just wanted to skate something new. I had no idea what to expect, but I was happily surprised with my surroundings. I had arrived in an urban environment with a plethora of virgin spots, hills, good ground, and no security to speak of. The only downside was that I didn’t meet a single skateboarder for the first month I was here. One night I was skating around Chonnam University, and this Chinese dude and his husky came up to me. It was

There’s nothing like seeing a c streets, rails, dips and stair boarder sees the world the pede catch and the biker flies past


MAO! If you know him, you know why his name is in all caps. Finally I had a friend who “plays skateboard” too. We go skate a couple of times a week around Chonnam University back gate,. Mao introduced me to the Diamond Supply skate shop near Chosun University, and from there I met In-Young Park and the SKIPS crew. This little skategang holds it down in Gwangju. They’re always skating; meeting up after work or class. I sometimes push home from Mix Lounge at 4 AM and see them skating in front of Kunsthalle. That’s what’s up! I should be out with them instead of at Mix, but I like meeting up with the people there, too. We bullshit about how much hagwons suck, reminisce about certain products that aren’t available here, and generally waste the weekend away.

Then in the mornings, or rather midafternoons, I chug some coffee and hit the streets. I love weaving in and out of the crowds of people who are slowly meandering around, “eye-shopping.” It still amazes me to hear people say “Good job!” rather than “Get out of here before I call the cops.” Of course, occasionally someone does come out and yell at me in Korean, making an X with his forearms, but I just play the role of an ignorant waygookin. I’ve got three months left in this shimmering city, and I’ll definitely miss the people and the streets I’ve spent time with, as well as the relaxed atmosphere of the city. But I need to continue on to find some new spots…

Photos by Mason Robinson and Yifeng Mao

city from its rs. A skateestrian can’t t.



I.E. The SEXY Tattoo party Gwangju Tattoo Convention By Matt Reihg

To most it was just another Saturday night in Gwangju. Everyone was either at their normal drinking holes or off doing something or someone new. As for me, it was something completely different. As you know from the first issue of Art Elemento I love tattoos, so if there is anything going on in this city that revolves around them you know I will be there. Therefore, I am proud to say I was present at the first of what will be a yearly Gwangju Tattoo Convention. Tthe SEXY Tattoo party. This however was not like any normal party. For all you tattoo enthusiast there is a yearly international tattoo convention held in Seoul called Ink Bomb. Many of the Gwangju tattoo artist attended this year’s show and most all of them had the same thing to say about it, was dirty and poorly put together.

After several bottles of soju and beer it was decided, the tattoo artists of Gwangju were going to hold their own party. The event was led by a man by the name of Han from NOSM tattoo. Han had worked out a plan with seven other local tattoo shops to put on this convention, NOSM (New Star Over Maxim), Miho Tattoos, Chrome Tattoos, ZO Tattoos, Volume Tattoos, Kali Tattoos, and Mu Dong Song Tattoo all jumped at the chance to be involved. The next step find the perfect location. Since tattoos are still taboo in Korea. Han talked to the people in charge of Houze and it was a done deal, the shops were set and the venue was chosen. It was a beautiful and warm Saturday night in July. When I showed up at 11p.m, I was greeted by Han and given my pass and staff shirt. My job that

night was to help other foreigners talk to the artists about getting work done. Unfortunately, there was only one other foreigner that came to the party, so I was useless most of the night. Due to the fact most foreigners probably thought this was another lame dance party and not an epic tattoo convention, you may not know what you missed out on.To get in there was a 10,000won cover charge. This got you access to Club Houze, one free drink, and a coupon one free small tattoo that night from any one of the seven shops. The idea behind the free ink was to introduce people to the artists and develop relationships with the local shops. Out of the estimated 600 people, a little over 200 were tattooed that night. For some it was their first tat-


too for others it was just another excuse to get more work done.There were also 3 tattoo gift certificates given out that night as door prizes valid for any of the shops present. First prize was valued at 1,000,000won, Second prize was 500,000won, and third prize was 250,000won. For everybody else, there was a sexy dance off and all the drink specials an alcoholic could wish for. Everyone involved with the SEXY Tattoo party agreed that it was a success and are looking forward to bigger and better things for next year’s show.

For more information on the sexy tattoo party or the tattoo artists contact me at ( ) or find me on Facebook under Matthew R. Rehrig. Keep the needle to the flesh people.

“The idea behind the free ink was to introduce people to the artists and develop relationships with the local shops.”



It looked as if everything was all right. At least, up until that afternoon. My fiancé and I were enjoying our coffee at a small, cozy café in my neighborhood in Gwangju. No, that wasn’t true. We ordered our coffee as soon as we took our seats by the window. We waited more than 20 minutes for our order. My fiancé was having his bottle of Evian water. It’s early September but the weather outside was still summer-like - hot and very humid. He was in need of hydration but his iced café latte was yet to come. The café was not busy at all. There was no-one but the two of us. I then looked outside. Right across the street was a small mart where I used to buy my groceries. It’s been a year since I moved to this area, but I almost never noticed this café. Funny, I thought. Maybe there are plenty of other things in this town that I still don’t know… “I’m going to invite that guy to our wedding”, my fiancé said. His Evian bottle was almost empty. “That would be good”, I said knowing he was talking about his half-brother. My fiancé’s father had an affair with another woman a long time ago, and that woman secretly gave birth to a son. He had no idea about the existence of his half

brother until the day of his father’s funeral a few years back. “He is a part of my family.” Life is funny. Sometimes a total stranger suddenly comes into someone’s life as a brother and other times people easily slip out from someone’s life. The coffees had not come yet. “I’m afraid the waiter forgot about our order” I said. For the first time, my fiancé seemed to notice the absence of our coffee. He glanced at his Swatch which I had given him on Christmas. “It’s late”, he said. “Been waiting for about 15 minutes already.” “30 minutes”, I corrected him. As my fiancé called out to the waiter, he emerged behind the wall. He was a tall and skinny guy who wore a pair of big, black glasses. He walked over to us very slowly, almost as if he was sleepwalking. “We are waiting for our coffee.” The waiter was staring at my fiancé’s face for a long time, as if something important was written on his cheek. Then all of a sudden, he turned around and left without saying a word. Not even an apology. “He is rude.” I whispered to my fiancé. “Maybe.” “Maybe?” He is very rude and impolite. “Well, to me, he just looks like the typical young Korean guy.” I strongly disagreed with what my fiancé had just said, but I didn’t say anything. Today was supposed to be a very happy day for the both of us. We were going to buy our wedding rings in downtown in the afternoon. We were to be married soon. In less than a minute, the waiter reappeared with two glasses of iced café lattes. It was clear that he completely forgot our order. We silently watched as he approached, slummed down a glass on the table and spilled the brown liquid all over. “Ah…” That was the only word he muttered. No apology. No excuse. Nothing. Even this time, the young guy just left our table without saying anything. Still, I expected him to come back with a cloth or something to wipe the table

down. However, it was my fiancé who cleaned the table with some Kleenex. “Stop it!” I said furiously. My fiancé looked up. “You don’t have to do this. Let the guy do it. Excuse me!” I knew I almost yelled but I didn’t really care. A gray haired man in his early sixties rushed to us. He is probably the owner, I thought. “How can I help you?” “Look at this mess! I think you already know what I am about to say.” I said sarcastically. “How can the waiter treat customers like this?” “I’m very sorry, madam” said the old man. “Let me pay to have your skirt dry cleaned.” I looked down to see some brown spots on my skirt and shook my head. “No, it’s okay. What I’m talking about is his attitude, not my skirt. I demand an apology.” The old man gave me a sympathetic look and continued. “I’ve known that guy since he was a little kid. His younger sister committed suicide last week.” The old man was holding both hands in front of his chest as if he was praying. “Oh”, said my fiancé. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry for him” The old man began to explain what exactly happened to the waiter’s sister in great detail. The poor young lady suffered from depression and was on medication for a long time but the side effects of these medicines were so harsh, she eventually lost her grip on the real world and so on and so forth. That’s when I decided to interrupt. The whole conversation was heading into the wrong direction. I shook my head. “I’m sorry for what happened to his sister but that has nothing to do with his rudeness.” I felt the weight of my fiancé’s stare, but didn’t bother to look and kept talking. “Okay, I don’t demand an apology anymore but please let me say this: If he is not over his sister’s death yet, he should have stayed home rather than come to work.” I stopped for a while to take a breath. “As long as he is earning money for what he does, he must take responsibility for his job. Don’t you think so?”


We sat there in silence and drank our coffee, my fiancé and I. After a long moment, my fiancé opened his mouth. “How can you say things like that?” “What?” “His sister killed herself!” “I know. He must be very sad and confused” “No, I don’t think you really understand. If you understood his pain, you wouldn’t be that harsh.” “I just told the owner what I thought was right.” “Do you really think that was the right thing to do?” I knew I probably should have said no but it was against my will. I couldn’t say yes either although, the expression on my fiancée’s face was so serious. “You remember how my father died, right?” my fiancée asked. I nodded. My fiancée’s father had been found dead in the trunk of his car. He was robbed by a hitchhiker and left in the trunk of his car, abandoned on the side of the highway. After several hours in the hot sun, he died of heat stroke. “Actually, his story reminded me of my father’s death.” “But your father’s case was an accident. That young man’s sister committed suicide. She killed herself.” My fiancé gave me a sad look. That was a kind of look I had never seen on his face before. A mixture of sadness and hatred. “It’s doesn’t matter how they died. The bereaved family members still have to experience hard times.” But what really shocked me was what he said next. “I don’t think I can marry you.” I couldn’t believe his words at first, so I asked him to repeat them. He did, and these words are exactly what the ones I just heard. I don’t think I can marry you. I wanted to say something but I was too shocked to speak. “I’m sorry to say this but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with someone who can’t understand others’ pain” I got up from my chair. “I know you didn’t say anything wrong. I mean, what you’ve said makes sense in a way. It just…it just doesn’t make sense to me.” And he left the café.

Without knowing what to do, I stood there motionless. My fiancé, no, a man who used to be my fiancé was nowhere in sight. I had no idea how long I’d been standing there like that. Even a second felt like forever. What made me come back to myself was something yellow. A glass of iced citron tea was on the table. I looked up. The old man was smiling at me. “It’s my treat” he said. Tears were running down my cheeks, but I didn’t care. Instead, I sat down and had a sip. It was the best citron tea I’d ever had in Gwangju.

Everything was all right. At least at that moment, I felt as if everything was all right.



“An aptly named international art exhibition featuring 7 international artists and 12 talented Korean artists who have studied abroad. Covering a variety of mediums and subjects, the exhibition was intended to show the “cosmopolitan potency” of the city of Gwangju. Organized by independent curator Hye-seong Lee.”



“July 23rd: The curtain closed on one of Gwangju’s finest homegrown bands. The Deserts played their final gig to a packed house at the Speakeasy following De Meegook Movement and Feed The Boats. It was an emotional, riotous, and guitar-smashing farewell. “

By Amanda Hollingworth Photography: Amanda Hollingworth


I Was Born From Th e Wind By Eleny Rosado

Playful friend how my soul longs to follow you. Over the mountains and through the valleys, across oceans, through the tails of a happy kite. You call to me. My heart longs to go! To be light and free. How my heart aches to carry the whisper of affection to the heart of a lover. The sound of the song to the soul of the artist How I wish to know things, embrace things. You are in my blood. We are one. You who keeps me from those who are waiting. You where my heart finds solace; purpose. Selfish wind never leave me. Although the years continue to show; As I drift closer to the inevitable. You keep me young. I hear your secrets through the rustle of leaves. Come. I will go! And when my time is gone, And my body no more, Carry me still.

Photography: Laura Makabresku





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