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d여기에서 MIRU KIM: UNDER THE SKIN – miru kim pig 주제에 대한 세부정보를 참조하세요
Miru Kim is a young artist from New York City. She photographed many abandoned urban landscapes such as subway stations, tunnels, aqueducts, factories, hospitals, and shipyards. Kim ventures into places where most of us would not dare enter. In her first photographic series, Naked City Spleen, Kim has portrayed herself in these urban places forgotten by society. For the new series, The Pig That Therefore I Am, the artist has explored various industrial pig farms, posing in the midst of thousands of pigs awaiting slaughter.
directed by Patrik Soergel
© 2011 RSI – Radiotelevisione svizzera
All photos under copyright of Miru Kim
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miru kim: the pig that therefore I am – Designboom
‘the pig that therefore I am’, the latest work by korean-american artist miru kim, is a collection of photographs that explores the …
Source: www.designboom.com
Date Published: 11/10/2022
View: 1958
Miru Kim. 104 Hours – Primary.
I Like Pigs and Pigs Like Me (104 Hours) – PERFORMANCE STILL … Miru Kim was born in Stoneham, Massachusetts in 1981 and was raised in Seoul, South Korea. She …
Source: www.thisisprimary.com
Date Published: 7/2/2021
View: 5356
Miru Kim On How Pigs Used In Her Art Basel Project Got Sick
One of the most talked about exhibits during Art Basel Miami Beach was Miru Kim’s “I Like Pigs And Pigs Like Me.” For the performance, Kim …
Source: www.huffpost.com
Date Published: 10/26/2022
View: 2565
Pig – Miru Kim
Both a pig and I carry our exteriorized memories on our cutaneous garment–scars, blemishes, wrinkles, and rashes that manifest markings of time, anguish of the …
Source: mirukim.com
Date Published: 1/12/2022
View: 9708
Miru Kim – The Pig That Therefore I Am
This time her new work addresses the relationship between humans and animals by examining pigs and their uncanny similarity to humans. She …
Source: gicjournal.wordpress.com
Date Published: 7/7/2022
View: 7955
High on the Hog | Miru Kim’s ‘The Pig That Therefore I Am’
A photographer finds inspiration in an unusual setting: a hog farm. … At first glance, the photographs in Miru Kim’s new show, “The Pig …
Source: tmagazine.blogs.nytimes.com
Date Published: 1/16/2021
View: 9160
Khỏa thân giữa bầy lợn – Tiền Phong
Cô cho biết, đây là một dự án mang tên The Pig That Therefore I Am (tạm … Miru Kim cũng đã từng chụp ảnh khỏa thân tại các nhà ga xe điện …
Source: tienphong.vn
Date Published: 6/2/2022
View: 4891
Miru kim “the pig that therefore i am” – Pinterest
Miru kim “the pig that therefore i am” Chesterfield Chair, Photography, Home … Naked City Spleen by Miru Kim (16 photos + veo) Abandoned Warehouse, …
Source: www.pinterest.com
Date Published: 9/20/2021
View: 5585
Art Basel 2011: Muri Kim’s ‘The Pig That Therefore I Am’ Exhibit
She admits she has a fear of germs. … But for her new art installation, Miru Kim has deced to live with pigs for 104 hours, non-stop. The …
Source: www.dailymail.co.uk
Date Published: 12/30/2021
View: 9127
Miru Kim The Pig 04 – ELEPHANT.art
Elephant’s Spring/Summer 2022 edition embraces life. Performance art icon Marina Abramović beams out from one of our two covers, while our …
Source: elephant.art
Date Published: 9/4/2021
View: 3621
주제와 관련된 이미지 miru kim pig
주제와 관련된 더 많은 사진을 참조하십시오 MIRU KIM: UNDER THE SKIN. 댓글에서 더 많은 관련 이미지를 보거나 필요한 경우 더 많은 관련 기사를 볼 수 있습니다.
주제에 대한 기사 평가 miru kim pig
- Author: seusol
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- Date Published: 2013. 12. 11.
- Video Url link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lPrE0a94bTc
miru kim: the pig that therefore I am
miru kim: the pig that therefore I am doosan gallery, new york march 24th – april 23rd, 2011
‘the pig that therefore I am’ by miru kim (above) ‘NY 1’ image © miru kim
‘the pig that therefore I am’, the latest work by korean-american artist miru kim, is a collection of photographs that explores the transferring qualities of skin and the reasoned separation between humans and animals. the work, a modification of philosopher rené descartes’ famed supposition, ‘I think therefore I am’, utilizes the largest organ of the human body to illustrate the striking similarities between beast and man, conveying the notion of being one with your surrounding through the sense of physical touch.
‘MO 1’ image © miru kim
the images show kim among a hoard of three hundred pound pigs, fenced and confined in a large-scale industrial farm. the artist’s form is often made indistinguishable through the use of dramatic lighting and deep shadows, further blurring the differentiating factor between human and animal, ultimately reducing her human identity among the masses. kim explores the idea of the skin serving as an osmotic membrane between the inner self and the outer world, experiencing a deep connection and feeling of inseparability with the pigs.
having previously experimented with the juxtaposition of her nude body with the massive setting of the contemporary society, she depicts the fragile concept of the individual in a visceral and emotionally-gripping manner.
‘the pig that therefore I am’ is showing at the doosan gallery in new york from 24 march to 23 april, 2011.
‘IA 2’ image © miru kim
‘NY 2’ image © miru kim
‘IA 5’ image © miru kim
(left) ‘bodies (IA) 1’ (right) ‘bodies (IA) 2’ images © miru kim
‘NY 3’ image © miru kim
‘IA 3’ image © miru kim
(left) ‘composition 1’ (right) ‘composition 5’ images © miru kim
Miru Kim. 104 Hours — Primary.
I Like Pigs and Pigs Like Me (104 Hours) – PERFORMANCE STILL
Two pigs and I, each weighs about the same. We eat roots and grains, food of the soil. We drink together. We sleep together. We act with our instincts, nose to nose. I cannot read. I cannot talk. I cannot leave the zoo box. After one hundred and four hours, perhaps we will see what it’s like to be a pig, and what it’s like to be a human. Perhaps the difference is blurred, mingling through skin on skin, in the mud where all ends and begins. – Miru Kim
Miru Kim was born in Stoneham, Massachusetts in 1981 and was raised in Seoul, South Korea. She attended the Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts. She received her BA in French and Romance Philology from Columbia University in 2003 and an MFA in Painting from the Pratt Institute in 2006. Solo exhibitions of Kim’s work have been held at the DOOSAN Gallery, Gestarc Gallery and The Cell Theatre in New York, the SODA Gallery in Istanbul and Gallery HYUNDAI Gangnam in Seoul. Group exhibitions including Kim have been held at the National Museum of Visual Art in Montevideo, the Coreana Museum of Art in Seoul, the Queens Museum of Art in New York and at SCOPE Basel/Miami (Waterhouse & Dodd Contemporary, London) and the 2010 Fokus Łódź Biennale in Łódź, Poland. Coverage of Kim’s work has appeared in the Financial Times Magazine, La Stampa, the Korea Herald, NY Arts Magazine, the New York Times Magazine and the New York Times. Kim was a subject at the 2008 EG Conference with TED.com. Kim is held in the permanent collections of the Samsung Museum of Art in Seoul, the Embassy of the Republic of Korea in Montevideo, the Museum of the City of Łódź and the Fountainhead Residency in Miami.
Kim lives and works in New York. There’s no clean deREMOVEion of the works or artists, themselves. This is quite literal with Miru Kim’s performance piece of “I Like Pigs and Pigs Like Me”, as she comes into intimate, often dangerous, contact with a caged throng of live pigs. A self-professed hygiene freak, the performance becomes a catalyst and nightmare for the 30 year-old photographer, lauded and decried for photographs placing her naked body set against forgotten industrial and urban landscapes.
Miru Kim On How Pigs Used In Her Art Basel Project Got Sick
One of the most talked about exhibits during Art Basel Miami Beach was Miru Kim’s “I Like Pigs And Pigs Like Me.” For the performance, Kim spent 104 consecutive hours naked in a makeshift pen with two pigs in Primary Projects’ window.
The artist told Cool Hunting she felt pigs are “more human-like than domestic pets like cats and dogs. Eye contact with them was shocking and mysterious, because their looks were so strange and yet so familiar.” There’s no denying Kim shares a strong connection with swine.
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The Basel pigs were saved from a Hialeah slaughterhouse and the artist told New Times art critic Carlos Saurez de Jesus, “They will lead a very happy life and are already better off than where we found them. … We are looking to place them as pets with a family or at a community farm after the show.”
But this morning, Miami New Times’ Riptide blog reported that a local animal rights activist said Kim’s pigs wound up deadly sick and mistreated:
… according to animal activist Ana Campos, Miru Kim’s much celebrated Art Basel performance has a filthy underbelly: art gallery Primary Flight ignored advice on how to take care of the pigs, neglected their health, and left them on a tiny Little Haiti farm taped up inside a cardboard box. The gallery didn’t even donate the funds it promised to take care of them, she alleges. “When I saw them, they had pneumonia and their ribs were sticking out,” Campos says. “Primary Flight got a boatload of money and a boatload of attention… but the back-story is not so pretty.”
Read the full article at Miami New Times, complete with photos of the pigs being rescued.
Kim, however, told HuffPost Miami that the pigs didn’t develop pneumonia during the show. “They were definitely already sick at the slaughterhouse, because they were coughing when the slaughterhouse worker picked them out. I was there.”
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She continues, “During the show, one pig was lively, but one was sleeping a lot and we called in the vet twice during the 4-day period and I was closely monitoring them. One of the gallery employees had experiences with large animals, so he was giving antibiotics. I did feel quite confident about their recovery, but I had to leave as soon as the show was over.”
Kim told HuffPost Miami that once she was back in New York where she lives, she continually contacted Primary Projects about the pigs’ condition. When she heard from CJ Acres Sanctuary about their illness, she gathered donations from her friends and sent $1,000 of her own from the print sales of the project.
Kim, whose knees are still peeling from spending time on all fours for the project, tells HuffPost Miami that she’s “very friendly with animal rights activists” and that her work has been “very positively viewed by them and by environmentalists,” citing reviews on the PETA blog, Treehugger, and Environmental Graffiti.
The artist said she really appreciates the work of activists like Campos who made sure the pigs were cared for. She told HuffPost Miami, “In the end, it was the gallery who contacted them because there was some trouble. And they helped, which I think worked out nicely, except for the fact that they’re so angry.”
New Times reports that Campos made contact with Kim before the performance to ask her to not use the pigs. Kim told HuffPost Miami that Campos’ first correspondence was so aggressively odd she dismissed it. She recounts that Campos suggested Kim instead mimic swine insemination, gestation, and castration. Kim states, “That’s not my art.”
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Pig — Miru Kim
The Pig That Therefore I Am
“The skin, a single tissue with localized concentrations, displays sensitivity. It shivers, expresses, breathes, listens, loves, and lets itself to be loved, receives, refuses, retreats, its hair stands on the end with horror, it is covered with fissures, rashes, and the wounds of the soul.”1 -Michel Serres
I lift up my shirt with my left hand and carefully touch my lower abdomen with my right hand. My right ring finger delicately runs over a few raised bumps on the right side, directly over the appendix. I look down and count the bumps. Seven raised scars from shingles I had at the age of sixteen. It was a turbulent time. My skin had spoken out about the inner distress. My third year in boarding school, I would often sit in a dark dorm room and silently cry and scream until I felt I didn’t exist anymore. No one listened. The language barrier was aggravating. It was a rigorous regimen for a maladjusted teenager. The sensation of my finger touching the scars, and my abdomen simultaneously feeling the subtle touch, immediately conjures up painful memories of my adolescence.
All senses mingle on the skin, the largest organ of the human body. Not only is it an envelope, a container keeping the body intact and safe, it is also a membrane that allows exchange between the inside and the outside of the body. Through millions of pores, temperature is regulated, impurities are secreted, and vapors are absorbed. Nerve endings, sweat glands, capillaries, and hair follicles are all intricately intertwined in the skin. The mucous membrane meets the skin at crucial points where all of our senses are formed—ears, lips, nostrils, eyelids, anus, and genital areas. Skin shapes the nose and the nostrils in a way that allows efficient breathing and our sense of smell. The opening of the mouth is carefully formed with a band of thin skin that we call lips, which connect the thicker exterior skin on our face and mucous membranes inside the mouth, where five tastes and further sensations are detected. These small openings on the body and the skin together create our total perception of the world.
The skin is also a defining medium for the internal consciousness of the body. This idea occupies a central place in Michel Serres’s philosophy of the senses. In touching his lips with a finger, he examines the consciousness that dwells in parts where skin is tangential to itself, such as lips, eyelids, clenched fists, and so on. “Skin on skin becomes conscious, as does skin on mucus membrane and mucus membrane on itself. Without this folding, without the contact of the self on itself, there would truly be no internal sense, no body properly speaking, cœnesthesia even less so, no real image of the body; we would live without consciousness…”2 Cœnesthesia is usually defined as an aggregate of all internal sensations that generate the awareness of our physiological existence; for example, hunger, headache, and sexual desires.3 It is inextricably linked to external sensations through the skin, like temperature, vibration, and pressure. Breathing deeply and feeling the lungs fill with cold air, for example, is not possible without the initial sensation of the cold air rushing in through mouth and nostrils. A similar idea goes with a punch in the stomach. These sensations, both physically and mentally, incorporate the world into the body–the cold air diffuses in the lungs, and the outsider’s fist makes a momentary but painful presence in the intestines. Situated in between the interior and the exterior, the skin becomes a meeting point, or more accurately, a merging point, of the inner body and the world.
Body and world mingle on the skin, as much as body and soul. The soul is inseparable from the body. It moves through the body like watered ink on mulberry paper. With the tip of the brush touching the surface, ink is applied and it spreads with water molecules through intricate fibers of the paper skin. When I put my two thumbs together and push them into my appendix region with force, my soul multiplies at that point, just like the inkblot applied with more pressure. The ink cannot be separated from the paper. Paper is the skin, and soul and body blend in the skin.
Through the sensations of skin on skin, living bodies in the external world are formed, in relation to the self. When two bodies come in contact–each of them touching and being touched at the same time–the souls meet and interweave on the skin, and the subject and the object become one.
Children, at a remarkably early age, learn very quickly how animals come into being through their caresses. Gently touching a cat, they feel the fullness of being in the cat– the soft fur, the flesh-colored skin, and the moving muscles underneath. At a very early age, I began to learn about massage, which gave me a natural sense of both my own and others’ anatomy. Ever since I can remember, I have given and received massages from my family members, who often had sore backs, shoulders, arms, and the like. The morning after a long day at the amusement park, for example, my calves in pain, I would learn at which exact points in my leg muscles the outer pressure felt pleasurable or painful, or both. That awareness extended beyond myself to all beings around me, including our household cat. By the time I was six, I knew that the cat enjoyed gentle massages in the shoulder area. It came to me as a shock, that this small, furry being had shoulder blades and a neck, much like my mother or any other person. At that young age, I could already sense that the anatomy of a cat was not so far from that of a human being.
As I got older, I learned that pigs were strikingly similar to humans in their physiology. In some ways, pigs are anatomically closer to humans than non-human primates. As such, they are commonly used as specimens in laboratory classes for premedical students like myself back in college years. I remember peeling away carefully with forceps, scalpel, and scissors, the integument of a fetal pig. Layer by layer, I got to the abdominal cavity. When it was finally cut open, I saw an elaborate cluster of organs arranged in a way almost identical to what I’d seen in human anatomy books. Pigs–the animals we call greedy, lazy, and unclean–have long been chosen as the prime potential non-human suppliers of organs like kidneys, hearts, and livers to humans. Xenotransplantation–the transplantation of living cells, tissues or organs from one species to another–has been researched for many decades, and it is now common to transplant porcine heart valves and bone grafts, and to implant collagen derived from pig skin. Although there are various immunological barriers and ethical issues involved, the transplant of genetically modified pig organs into humans may be successful in the near future; in this case, the painfully long waiting lists for organ donations worldwide will disappear eventually.4 Imagine a world full of humans with pig hearts pumping life throughout their bodies.
As I lay down next to a sow weighing five hundred pounds, I felt the warmth travel from the soft underbelly of the animal into my bare right thigh. Two bodies mingled momentarily, in the skin on skin contact. I could no longer reason whether I was feeling the pig’s abdomen on my thigh, or the pig was feeling my thigh on her abdomen. The line between the subject and the object were obscured, and two souls mingled on the plane of contact.
The traditional dualistic thought in the Western world completely dissociated body and soul from one another. As a result, animals were regarded as complex, organic machines, because they lacked the soul and could not operate the mind. Renée Descartes, who notoriously stated, “I think, therefore I am,” also came up with the idea that animals are “automata or moving machines” because “they are destitute of reason.”5 Animals have been exploited as workers, food, or exotic spectacles for centuries. However, the 17th century model of animals as machines has been remarkably surpassed in the last century: animals as profit-generating raw materials for commodity production in mass quantities.
According to the USDA Foreign Agricultural Services, the current world production of pork exceeds a hundred million metric tons per year. The average market yield of carcass from one pig is a little over 80 kilograms, which means more than 1.2 billion pigs are slaughtered each year in the world. That number equals approximately four times the entire population of the US.
Listening carefully to the cacophony of echoing squeals and groans over a loud, mechanical hum, I unlatched the powder-coated steel door, discolored to a sickly beige and mottled with yellowish brown. As soon as the door swung open, hundreds of startled pigs jumped to their feet in unison with deep grunts and ran away from the fences, which in turn frightened me. I walked along the corridor of the standard-sized barn containing about twenty-four hundred hogs. Soon they came back up to the fence and started to poke their noses in curiosity. They had seen a new visitor and proceeded to examine her. Pig eyes are remarkable. They see right into the eyes of a human being. When they were looking at me, exposed before them, surrounded by them, I could not read their gazes, but they were somehow shockingly familiar. There was no language to bridge that disparity–the mysterious gap between the gaze of a pig and that of mine. But when I mingled with them with my skin, the gap momentarily closed in, as if I had forgotten my own language. My words were lost, and I felt the swinish grunts resonate inside me.
Archeological evidence shows that pigs were domesticated as early as 10,000 years ago in Central Asia.6 In China, domestication occurred independently, and there are speculations that this happened around the same time.7 Findings in the 8000-year-old Peiligang site in Henan Province include sculptures in the shape of domestic pigs. By 1300 BCE, the oracle bone script–one of the earliest forms of writings in the world– contained four disparate pictographic characters for a female domestic pig, a male domestic pig, a neutered domestic pig, and a wild boar with an arrow through its body.8 This indicates that pigs were known to grow larger and faster after sterilization, and that the common domestic pigs were already well evolved separately from the wild boars.
Pigs must have been a very important element of the household in ancient China, since the earliest character for “home,” notably, is comprised of a pig and a roof over it. These animals provided the first metaphor for safety and comfort of a home. This intimate correlation between the human being and the animal has been completely severed over the last century. Now, China yields more than 50 million metric tons of pork annually, which is about half of the world’s pork production in total.
A sow has a very tender and warm underbelly. The firm, protruding teats get caught momentarily between my fingers as I stroke the belly back and forth. Then, as I rub my shoulder against the flank, I start to feel the rough bristles on my shoulder. She suddenly nudges me with her snout disc. Her brute force pushes me off, and I crawl next to other pigs. At eye level, three-hundred-pound pigs surrounding me, I am covered in their saliva, urine, and feces. They like to chew my hair and my heels. Sometimes their blunt, hard teeth bruise my skin, on different parts of my body. Still kneeling down, I swing my arms over their snouts, and they shrink back. In the afternoon, they all take a nap, and I lie down amongst them, my head next to theirs.
Both a pig and I carry our exteriorized memories on our cutaneous garment–scars, blemishes, wrinkles, and rashes that manifest markings of time, anguish of the soul, wounds of love and war. We all live at the same time, naked and not quite naked. Underneath our exterior coverings, whether they are silk, cotton or leather, we humans carry our own skin, just as pigs do. Born with a blank canvas enveloping us, we accumulate more and more brushstrokes of memories as years pass, on our garment that cannot be literally cast off until death.
Nevertheless, at some point in our lives, we must experience the emblematic process of flaying our skin and offering it up for others to see, hear, and feel through art, music, and poetry. I put my flayed skin on display in the form of a photograph–a paper skin that is touched by light–from which emanates the aura of mingled bodies. On that hanging skin, the animal and human souls blend like water and soil, creating subtle lines and fleeting shapes of a muddy shore.
-Miru Kim
Notes
1 Michel Serres, The Five Senses: A Philosophy of Mingled Bodies (New York: Continuum, 2008) 52.
2 Michel Serres, The Five Senses: A Philosophy of Mingled Bodies (New York: Continuum, 2008) 22.
3 F. G. Asenjo, In-Between: An Essay on Categories (London: The Center for Advanced Research in Phenomenology, Inc. University Press of America, 1988) 12-14.
4 Burcin Ekser and David KC Cooper, “Overcoming the barriers to xenotransplantation: prospects for the future,” Expert Review of Clinical Immunology 6:2 (March 2010): 219-230.
5 Renee Descartes, Discourse on Method (Indianapolis: Hacket Publishing, 1998) 31-2.
6 Vigne JD, Zazzo A, Saliège JF, Poplin F, Guilaine J, Simmons A., “Pre-Neolithic wild boar management and introduction to Cyprus more than 11,400 years ago,” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the USA 106 (2009): 16135–16138.
7 Ping-ti Ho, The Cradle of the East (Hong Kong: Hong Kong Chinese University and Chicago: Chicago University, 1975) 107.
8 Chin-hsiung Hsu, Ancient Chinese society: An epigraphic and archaeological interpretation trans. Alfred H. C. Ward (San Francisco: Yee Wen Publishing Company, 1984).
Miru Kim – The Pig That Therefore I Am
Miru Kim – The Pig That Therefore I Am Posted by sillylittleenglishgirl on March 10, 2011 · Leave a Comment
Miru Kim –
The Pig That Therefore I Am
If you find yourself in New York anytime soon, head to the DOOSAN gallery. This month they present a debut exhibition from the Korean artist Miru Kim with her latest photography series, The Pig That Therefore I Am. Miru Kim is known for her previous series entitled Naked City Spleen, for which she explored various urban ruins such as abandoned factories, tunnels, sewers, and catacombs in different cities around the world. This time her new work addresses the relationship between humans and animals by examining pigs and their uncanny similarity to humans. She literally assimilates her own body amongst pigs that are raised in large-scale industrial meat production.
The first part of the series focuses on the skin and its ideological importance. Large photographs titled and numbered as “Compositions” display lines and textures created by her own body parts in contact with those of a live pig. The exhibition includes her writings that combine scientific, historical and poetic narratives. Inspired by the contemporary French philosopher Michel Serres and certain aspects of ancient Eastern philosophy, she claims that the skin is an important mingling point of the inner body and the world, and that the soul and body cannot be separated. She also critiques the conventional idea that animals lack the soul.
“As I lay down next to a sow weighing five hundred pounds, I felt the warmth travel from the soft underbelly of the animal into my bare right thigh. Two bodies mingled momentarily, in the skin on skin contact. I could no longer reason whether I was feeling the pig’s abdomen on my thigh, or the pig was feeling my thigh on her abdomen. The line between the subject and the object were obscured, and two souls mingled on the plane of contact.” The traditional dualistic thought in the Western world completely dissociated body and soul from one another. As a result, animals were regarded as complex, organic machines, because they lacked the soul and could not operate the mind. Renée Descartes, who notoriously stated, “I think, therefore I am,” also came up with the idea that animals are “automata or moving machines” because “they are destitute of reason.” Animals have been exploited as workers, food, or exotic spectacles for centuries. However, the 17th century model of animals as machines has been remarkably surpassed in the last century: animals as profit-generating raw materials for commodity production in mass quantities.
The second part of the show relates to her interest in how the animal production has changed drastically only in the last century, although animal domestication has occurred more than ten thousand years ago. She brings sharp attention to the rarely seen interiors of massive industrial farms by inserting herself amongst the animals. Momentarily becoming one of the pigs, she explores and expands her own human identity. She writes of her experiences in the hog farms: “Listening carefully to the cacophony of echoing squeals and groans over a loud, mechanical hum, I unlatched the powder-coated steel door, discolored to sickly beige and mottled with yellowish brown. As soon as the door swung open, hundreds of startled pigs jumped to their feet in unison with deep grunts and ran away from the fences, which in turn frightened me. I walked along the corridor of the standard-sized barn containing about twenty- four hundred hogs. Soon they came back up to the fence and started to poke their noses in curiosity. They had seen a new visitor and proceeded to examine her. Pig eyes are remarkable. They see right into the eyes of a human being. When they were looking at me, exposed before them, surrounded by them, I could not read their gazes, but they were somehow shockingly familiar. There was no language to bridge that disparity – the mysterious gap between the gaze of a pig and that of mine. But when I mingled with them with my skin, the gap momentarily closed in, as if I had forgotten my own language. My words were lost, and I felt the swinish grunts resonate inside me.”
– Taken from the press release. Interview coming soon.
– www.mirukim.com
High on the Hog | Miru Kim’s ‘The Pig That Therefore I Am’
Photograph by Peter Domorak. Styling by Katie Mellinger.
At first glance, the photographs in Miru Kim’s new show, “The Pig That Therefore I Am,” opening this Thursday at the Doosan Gallery in New York, seem like abstract studies of female skin. But as your eye moves to take in the big picture, you are surprised and perhaps a bit horrified to discover that most of the flesh in these intimate compositions is not human. A nude female (the 30-year-old artist herself) lies in filth with hundreds of caged hogs in industrial farms. The impulse is to recoil in disgust, but you are easily drawn back by the stillness, the almost transcendental quality of the images.
This daring new work screams of animal-rights activism, though the soft-spoken, matter-of-fact Kim denies any political intentions. Her interest, she says, is mainly in the performance. (She shows behind-the-scenes video footage and provides first-person narrative accompaniments with each piece.) It is also highly theoretical, a far cry from Kim’s athletic urban exploring days that spawned her 2008 series, “Naked City Spleen,” in which the locations for her birthday-suit poses tended to be in abandoned buildings, underground subway tunnels and on top of massive bridges. The New York-based artist was raised on a diet of Taoism and Buddhism by her father, Do-ol, who is Korea’s leading philosopher, and studied French postmodernism at college.
Here, she answers a few questions about her work.
Q.
Where does the title, “The Pig That Therefore I Am,” come from?
A.
The title comes from the philosopher Jacques Derrida’s “The Animal That Therefore I Am.” He critiques the relegation of animal life since the time Descartes made the distinction between man as a superior rational being to every other living species. I tend more towards the Buddhist perspective that all living beings are connected in a circular way via life force, or qi. It’s not that “I think, therefore I am,” but rather, “I am, therefore I feel.”
How did you gain access to these large-scale, highly secured industrial farms?
I sent out countless packets of letters and press articles about my work to farmers along the East Coast. I had to prove that I was not an animal-rights activist. All but one gave me negative replies. That farmer seemed to enjoy watching me work. Not many get to see a naked woman with their pigs.
How did you find the Iowa and Missouri farms?
I packed my bags for couple weeks of motel living. I can’t tell you how much time I spent on satellite maps searching for those white rectangles lined up and connected to a black pool (“lagoons” where the manure is collected). Eventually I found someone who runs a hog farm in Iowa. That’s where I took the photos with sleeping pigs. It took about six hours to have them all lie down and get used to my presence.
Not all the farms were accessed by permission, right? What was the most difficult aspect of the project?
Driving through these massive complexes in Missouri was nerve-racking because the workers could see that my rental car did not belong there. There were thousands of hogs getting shipped out for slaughter. But I spotted one complex that looked quiet. I changed into a dress and sandals that could be taken off and on very quickly, and prepared my camera on a tripod. The only access was somehow left open. This was the single most frightening experience I’ve ever had. The clanking of metal crates, the screams and grunts, the smell, the filth, the dreary eyes of pregnant sows confined in gestation crates, the fear that someone may come in and find me naked, and the possibility of a farmer chasing me with a shotgun.
What was the most enjoyable part?
I learned firsthand that there is absolutely nothing enjoyable about industrial hog farms.
The “ick” factor is strong in your work: rats, hogs, mud, feces. How did you build up a tolerance to touch these animals and substances that people normally cringe at?
I was raised with different kinds of animals, and since I was a child I thought rats were cute. In my daily life I am a sanitary freak. After the pig shoots, I poured vinegar on myself and even tried hydrogen peroxide and toothpaste. I scrubbed so much that my skin became red.
In your 2008 series, “Naked City Spleen,” you were also sneaking into forbidden and hidden locations. Tell me how you were able to access the incredible places you’ve been to like the Bronx aqueduct and the Manhattan Bridge?
It involves jumping off the platform when no one’s watching, popping manholes, climbing over gates and getting clothes torn, squeezing through small dirt holes and under chain link fences, climbing scaffolding, walls and ladders.
Do you consider yourself a part of any art movement today?
I identify most with graffiti writers and street artists in terms of methods and locations, but I don’t see my work as being “hip” or fashionable in any way. I am more interested in underground artworks and films that are quite obscure. I mostly feel like an oddball.
And what did your urban explorer and street artist friends teach you?
The city is a giant playground, especially between 1 a.m. and 5 a.m.
Khỏa thân giữa bầy lợn
TP – Mới đây, tại New York, Mỹ, nghệ sĩ Miru Kimđã cho ra mắt 1 bộ ảnh khiến công chúng một phen sốc nặng khi cô không mặc gì nằm sát giữa bầy lợn và cho cơ thể mình cọ sát với da lợn.
Cô cho biết, đây là một dự án mang tên The Pig That Therefore I Am (tạm dịch Chú lợn mà tôi muốn trở thành) thể hiện sự đồng nhất giữa người và động vật. Theo cô, thời buổi công nghiệp hiện nay làm cho cảm xúc con người có nhiều thay đổi, tình cảm giữa con người với động vật cũng ít dần.
Miru Kim sinh năm 1981 tại Massachusetts, Mỹ và lớn lên tại Hàn Quốc từ nhỏ và rồi quay trở lại Mỹ học tập và sinh sống.
Miru Kim cũng đã từng chụp ảnh khỏa thân tại các nhà ga xe điện ngầm, hệ thống cống ngầm, nhà máy bị bỏ không qua dự án nghệ thuật mang tên Naked City Spleen (Sự u uất của thành phố trần trụi) hồi tháng 3 năm 2010 để nói lên sự phá hủy của đô thị.
Yên Bình
Theo Daily Mail/Telegraph
Art Basel 2011: Muri Kim’s ‘The Pig That Therefore I Am’ Exhibit
Not quite Francis Bacon: Female artist who is living naked with pigs for 104 hours
She admits she has a fear of germs.
But for her new art installation, Miru Kim has decided to live with pigs for 104 hours, non-stop.
The former medical student is staying in a pen at the front of one of the galleries at Art Basel Miami 2011, and visitors can watch her, naked, through the window.
Performance: Miru Kim lies with two pigs in a glass enclosure as part of an art installation, I Like Pigs And Pigs Like Me. She will live with the animals for 104 hours. ‘When I mingle with pigs, I feel my existence more than ever,’ she said
Spending four days naked inside a glass box living and sleeping with pigs might not be everyone idea of fun, but the performance artist calls it high art
She will eat and sleep alongside the animals for the next four days.
And getting down in the dirt wasn’t easy for the 30-year-old, who suffered badly with obsessive-compulsive disorder as a child.
‘It’s a very concentrated industrial environment, so the level of smell is toxic,’ she told the Huffington Post.
‘I get into a mental zone when I am doing a shoot. After I’m done, however, if I can’t get the smell off my feet, it’s very disturbing.’
Kim, the daughter of a Korean philosopher, has gained notoriety for stripping off and photographing herself naked in strange places such as abandoned factories, tunnels and bridges.
She said the work helps her get over her fears – ‘fear of darkness, fear of dangerous activities in general, and fear of dirt’.
Dedicated: Kim will eat and sleep alongside the animals for the next four days
Baring all for her art: Kim, who has gained notoriety for producing art involving her own naked body, is performing at Art Basel Miami. The former medical student said her work helps her overcome her fears
Bemused and confused: Visitors watch as Kim lies with two pigs within a glass enclosure. The Miami installation is called ‘I Like Pigs and Pigs Like Me (104 hours)’
She was inspired to create I Like Pigs And Pigs Like Me after reading French philosopher Michel Serres’s book Five Senses: A Philosophy of Mingled Bodies, which explores the characteristics of skin.
‘Skin is not only an envelope protecting the inner body, or a membrane that allows exchange between exterior and interior of the body,’ Kim said. ‘It also serves as a mingling point between the outer world and inner self, and between body and soul.
‘When I mingle with pigs, I feel my existence more then ever.’
Kim became fascinated with pigs during a university dissection when she was a student at Columbia University in New York.
But she went on to develop a strong attachment to the animals.
‘That is when I noticed that their anatomy and skin colour is close to ours,’ said Kim about her first intense encounter.
‘Pigs are sensitive, intelligent creatures and when I enter the pen with them on these farms they react with fear or curiosity at first.’
Turkish delight: Artist Miru Kim has earned international acclaim by taking photos of herself in the nude in unusual spots such as this area of Istanbul
Using two normal pigs from a nearby farm, Miru will literally save their bacon after the weekend’s performance is up.
‘They will lead a very happy life and are already better off than when we found them,” said the America-Korean artist.
‘We are looking to place them as pets with a family or at a community farm after the show.’
Her Miami performance isn’t the first time Kim has lived with pigs, but previously, visitors had only been able to see photographs of her experience.
Now she’s hoping her live performance, which ends on Saturday, will convey elements that her previous photo series couldn’t.
키워드에 대한 정보 miru kim pig
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