'Nine-tailed Tales' exhibit by Zadie Xa mixes folklore with progressive ideas

If the classic horror anthology TV series "Korean Ghost Stories" (1977-89) and Western mythological fantasy films were to be combined, that would be the overall atmosphere of "Nine-tailed Tales: Trickster, Mongrel, Beast," a solo exhibition by...

″Tricksters, Mongrels, Beasts″ (2023) by Zadie Xa [SPACE K SEOUL]

If the classic horror anthology TV series "Korean Ghost Stories" (1977-89) and Western mythological fantasy films were to be combined, that would be the overall atmosphere of "Nine-tailed Tales: Trickster, Mongrel, Beast," a solo exhibition by 40-year-old Korean-Canadian artist Zadie Xa at Space K Seoul in Magok-dong of Gangseo District, western Seoul.

At the entrance to the exhibition is a sculpture of an old woman riding a haetae, a mythical ancient creature of East Asia that has a leonine body and great wisdom. The artist said she was inspired by the head puppet among the colorful wooden puppets that decorate sangyeo, or the funeral bier of old Korea. While the head puppet riding the haetae is usually a male general, the artist chose to make it Mago Halmi, or Grandmother Mago, an ancient goddess of Korea.

″Cloud Guardian″ (2023) by Zadie Xa [SPACE K SEOUL]

The next room is the ultimate in mystical hybridity. Oil paintings hang in a colorful labyrinthine space, mostly portraits of half-humans and hybrid animals that look like demons and gods, reminiscent of myths and legends from around the world. Noticeably absent are the stereotypical images from old art pieces or modern mass media that feature such creatures.

For example, the wrinkle-faced woman with fox ears and flowing gray hair in one of the paintings is neither a sinister witch nor a warm and sweet grandma, but a neutrally mysterious and majestic figure. The paintings of furry beasts with round black faces and long gray hair that resemble those of mountain spirits in Korean folktales are actually modeled after the artist's pet Pekingese dog, though they are also reminiscent of monsters from the ancient Chinese geography book, “Shanhai Jing,” or “Classic of Mountains and Seas.” The beasts in the paintings are simultaneously cute and grotesque.

The view of the solo show of Zadie Xa at Space K Seoul in Magok-dong of Gangseo District, western Seoul. [SPACE K SEOUL]

After exiting the labyrinth, visitors find themselves in a large space with something that looks like a stage or an altar. On the platform is a big triptych painting reminiscent of altarpieces in European cathedrals. The triptych, titled "Tricksters, Mongrels, Beasts,” shows all sorts of hybrid animals having a moonlight meeting. Tricksters are mythical beings, neither good nor evil, who disrupt the world by playing pranks that transcend norms. The beings in Xa's works are characterized by hybridity not only in their external forms but also in their internal essence. This may have a lot to do with the artist's identity as both a Korean diaspora and a woman.

This hybridity is reflected in the style of the artist’s work. "When people look at her work, Westerners say they feel it's very East Asian and exotic, while Koreans say they feel it's very Western and exotic," Lee Jang-uk, chief curator of Space K Seoul, told the Korea JoongAng Daily. "These Korean diaspora artists are very important because they broaden and enrich the horizons of Korean culture."

″Grandmother Mountain″ (2023) by Zadie Xa [SPACE K SEOUL]

Among the large paintings in the final room is one of a sansin, or a mountain god. The image of the god embracing a tiger, surrounded by clouds, resembles that of a traditional sansin painting that you can see in Korean Buddhist temples in mountains. The difference is that the sansin in Xa’s painting is an old woman, not an old man. Before the Joseon Dynasty, actually, many mountain gods in Korea were women.

For example, the classic book about the history of Korea’s ancient three kingdoms “Samguk Yusa”(1281, translated to 'Memorabilia of the Three Kingdoms') tells the story of “The Holy Mother of Mount Seondo” who helped a pious Buddhist nun. Mount Seondo is located near Gyeongju, which was the capital city during the Silla Kingdom (57 B.C. to A.D. 935).

The Korea JoongAng Daily met with the Vancouver, Canada-born artist at Space K Seoul earlier this month for an interview.

The artist graduated from the Emily Carr Institute of Art and Design and received her MA from the Royal College of Art in London, and is now based in London. In 2022, she had a solo exhibition at Whitechapel Gallery, a major art space in London, and participated in the Jeju Biennale in Korea’s Jeju Island in the same year. Earlier this year, the Seoul branch of Thaddaeus Ropac, one of the world's leading galleries, included Xa in an exhibition showcasing three young artists with Korean heritage.

The following are edited excerpts from the interview.

Q. How did you get introduced to Korean mythology?

A. It's from my mom — I learned basic Korean folk tales from the stories that she would tell me when I was young. But, within the past seven years, I became increasingly interested in looking at folklore and mythology from more of an academic perspective. A lot of my research is just self-taught from books and the internet. I’m trying to find parallels between the ways in which folklore, depending on the country, is used as a tool to transmit messages.

″Future Selves″ (2023) by Zadie Xa [SPACE K SEOUL]

Then what do you want to say through your paintings and through the motifs of Korean mythology?

On a basic level, I'm just really excited to introduce common animals you might see within Korean folk painting. I like that there's art historical reference. In many ways, artists are always looking to the past. I made a very conscious decision to move away from referencing European art history, and I wanted to look elsewhere. I thought Korean folk painting, because it was something that I understood visually as a child and because it would be interesting to insert that iconography [into my work].

With regards to conceptualizing what I want to talk about, I think there's a very strong undercurrent of pushing forward feminist ideas — reinterpretation of history and reimagining futures from a feminist perspective. I think there's actually a lot of feminist perspectives within some Korean mythology, or there's a way in which you can reinterpret those stories. For example, Mago Halmi was so interesting to me. I thought, wow. I'd never imagined a very powerful old Korean lady or Asian lady using her hands to make a mountain.

You know when we think of a protagonist and, if it is a woman, it tends to be maybe a younger, more attractive woman. I was interested in elevating this and thinking about these old women as the powerful figures.

I love your interpretation of the gumiho, or nine-tailed fox, because, although the gumiho is often described as an evil monster in modern popular culture, in the older legends, it was a sacred animal with a very complicated nature. You seem to have known that.

Yes. There are a lot of interesting qualities about that character not only within Korean mythology but also within Japanese and Chinese folklore. It is also interesting how the fox appears within European culture as well.

There's a very transgressive nature to that animal. Ultimately it's a creature that can't be controlled. So I think a lot of times in history, women who were unable to be controlled were thought of as evil, so people demonized them. So, it is a lot about celebrating people that are considered unruly or pushing against the status quo, pushing against the kind of political power structures that dictate how we have to behave in a society.

In your paintings, old women are depicted as mysterious and majestic — is this a rebirth of the old gods?

Most people here in Asia and in traditional cultures are very deferential to old people. In the West, it's not like that unfortunately now, and particularly within the context of popular culture. So it's thought that women are treated as invisible once they've passed their sexually attractive years, so heroines or heroes are never these old women. So the grandmother deities of Korean mythology were amazing and fascinating, but it's interesting to note that even in Western folklore, old women, although in a negative light, are viewed as fearsome beings with supernatural powers and secret knowledge. Now that I'm getting older, I'm thinking more about these issues. I don't want to portray old people as invisible or always sweet and gentle, but I want to show their diverse, complex personalities and powerful sides. My paintings of elderly people can be like a self-portrait of my future self, or a self-portrait of who I want to be.

BY MOON SO-YOUNG [moon.soyoung@joongang.co.kr]