Listening to the World: A Geopolitical Lens on the Gwangju Biennale

The Gwangju Biennale is the oldest ongoing biennale in Asia, marking the city of Gwangju as a cultural hub founded during the “Asian biennialization”¹ of the 1990s, as a “living memorial”². According to the declaration on the memorial plaque in the Biennale’s Exhibition Hall, the Biennale’s central site for its main exhibition since 1995, “The Kwangju Biennale,” in its old romanisation, is “rooted in the spirit of the people of Kwangju and their great artistic heritage.” The declaration mentions how the people of Gwangju want to create a lively pan-Asian culture for the 21st century and states that the biennale “will pursue globalization rather than westernization; diversity rather than uniformity”³. Ranjit Hoskote, one of the co-curators of the 7th edition of the Biennale reflected during the time that the Gwangju Biennale belongs to a group of “biennials of resistance,” offering a regional path to modernization – in Gwangju’s case, the road to democracy. Hoskote states that “critical transregionality,” a term coined by Indian cultural theorist Nancy Adajania in the context of the Biennale, provides a way to move beyond the constraints of the “globalized local”. Its practitioners “reject insularity and provincialism, grounding themselves in a productive engagement with urgency and crisis in varied locations”⁴. It is possible to interpret the peculiarity of the biennials with different juxtapositions, such as the global-local distinction or by distinguishing between biennials between the global north and the global south. However, evaluating the Gwangju Biennale within these frameworks is challenging as Korea’s wealth, cultural tradition, and Gwangju’s own history as a pivotal site in Korea’s democratization process do not neatly position the Gwangju Biennale within the global network of biennials. The 15th edition of the Gwangju Biennale highlights a more compelling shift: the weakening of the 1990s belief in biennials as “global villages,” which once symbolized liberalism’s triumphal march⁵ suggesting that the once-dominant narrative of liberal globalization is beginning to fracture.

Biennials are increasingly becoming “art exhibitions of everything”, extending beyond human to encompass all beings, things and even potential realities. Biennials are arguably the most explicit cultural expression of globalization within contemporary art. However, given the influence of neoliberal globalization, there are reasons to assume that biennials tend to share homogeneous characteristics.⁶ This homogeneity extends beyond production methods or visual aesthetics to the topics they address. It would be naive to assume stark differences in the subject matter of artworks, regardless of geographical distinctions or juxtapositions.

Within the context of the Gwangju Biennale, there is a growing tendency to expand its scale as a series of interconnected exhibitions. Since 2018, during the artistic directorship of Sunjung Kim, the network of art and cultural institutions associated with the biennale, known as the Gwangju Biennale Pavilion, has expanded significantly – from nine participants in 2023 to 31 in 2024. This expansion highlights the Biennale’s evolving role as a tool and platform for diverse ambitions, cultural dialogues, and forms of influence. It gives opportunities for cultural exchange between institutions in Gwangju and Korea, as well as art centres, institutions, and national advocates internationally.

The 15th Gwangju Biennale, with its focus on sound and its exploration of contemporary issues, builds upon the legacy of “global responsiveness of contemporaneity” while pushing the boundaries of the biennial format. For Nicolas Bourriaud, curator of the Gwangju Biennale Pavillion, the starting point for the theme of the 15th edition, Pansori,’ is “a new world map in which carbon dioxide and urban life, desertification and migration, deforestation and social struggles, destruction of animal ecosystems, and vegetal invasion have all become brutally interconnected.” Pansori, a traditional Korean musical storytelling genre performed by a singer and drummer, has evolved over centuries from shamanistic rituals to entertainment for specific social classes.⁷ Bourriaud became interested in the diverse history of pansori and opened up his cosmos in space when he put together an exhibition from this century.⁸ Thematically, it refers to our time and broadly to the environment surrounding the change in mood as a visual sound of the 21st century.⁹

Several national pavilions also commented on the concept of pansori. In the Netherlands’ pavilion at the Gwangju Museum of Art, the exhibition Two Songs by the artist duo Broersen and Lukács reinterprets the songs ‘I Wanna Be Like You’ from Disney’s Jungle Book and Nature Boy, to challenge Western perceptions of nature and colonialism. In the digitalized videos of the work, avatars of Suriname music group Black Harmony and opera singer Shahram Yazdani lament the loss of nature’s innocence and reclaim cultural identity by challenging colonial power structures.

The main exhibition, “an operatic exhibition about the space we live in”¹⁰, is housed in the Gwangju Biennale Exhibition Hall. Its galleries present significant challenges due to their modular white walls and vast areas to fill. This is likely why the main exhibition includes works by 72 artists from 30 countries. The 15th Gwangju Biennale is not the only large-scale exhibition to challenge the concept of a “static exhibition,” but it stands out for its innovative approach. The main exhibition shifts focus from the dominant sense of sight to other senses, particularly listening, based on the visitors’ mobility. Constructed as “a narrative,” the venues connect musical and visual forms. Sounds travel fluently with the visitor. For example, in Emeka Ogboh’s sonic exploration of finding harmony within chaos, Oju 2.0, he fills a dark corridor with soundscapes from Lagos’ Ojuelegba neighborhood, leading to Na Mira’s video installation, that loops Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl against the backdrop of Für Elise.

In a way, the Exhibition Hall is a tangible site for the Biennale as a “living memorial.” The Biennale’s main exhibition breaks the usual expectations of nationalist motifs and interests, giving the art “self-value in the biennial context.” At the same time, it adopts a kind of “art of government” in its diplomacy, maintaining neutrality by presenting only basic work details on the walls, leaving the viewer helpless and burdened to understand contemporaneity and the world we live in while minimizing the potential for controversy or conflict.

The main exhibition includes five gallery venues that aim to build “visual pansori” and address the mutations of the Anthropocene through themes of ‘Feedback Effect’, ‘Polyphonies’, and ‘Primordial Sound’¹¹. The Yangnim History and Culture Village exhibition venues offer a more referential, rather than conceptual, approach, focusing on ‘Resonance.’ Some works create a continuity between galleries and separate thematic sections. For instance, Noel W. Andersson’s work connects Gallery 1 and Gallery 2 and floors with a sound installation, Warming up the Grunt (2024), and tapestries inspired by James Brown’s music.

‘Feedback Effect’ in Gallery 1 and Gallery 2 speaks of the effects of human life and the Anthropocene and how human life has left its marks in the air and sea through pollution¹². The feedback effect is a dissonance when two emitters are too close to one another. This can be understood as a use of resources, how we depend on world trade and distribution of materials affected by wars, accidents, and collisions, and how acceleration modifies life. Works in the Gallery 1y explore the concept of the lived environment, and those in the Gallery 2delve into ecosystems and human-ecosystem interactions, referring to the ‘Feedback Effect’. Sung Tieu System’s Void (2024), a sound and sculptural installation containing steel pipes on sand, is present wherever visitors enter the gallery spaces. Utilizing recycled materials, Kevin Beasley’s Field Modules and Yein Lee’s System of In-Between State (2024) dominate the central space. Hayden Dunham’s The Return: Finally Free (2024) concludes the space, showcasing their experimentation with activated charcoal and DD combined with glass, silicon, metal, and acrylic.

When transitioning to Gallery 3 and the second section, ‘Polyphonies,’ there is a disconnect from the “architecture or dramaturgy of the sound.” In this section, the exhibition seeks to explore the relationships between beings rather than objects, addressing the complexities of the human milieu. Max Hooper Schneider, whose walkable, performative, large-scale installation Lysis Field (2024) is presented in Gallery 3, also featured in the exhibition PLANET B: Climate Change and the New Sublime at Palazzo Bollani in Venice in 2022, curated by Bourriaud under the curatorial cooperative ‘Radicants’, founded by him. This connection underscores Bourriaud’s long-term engagement with the themes explored in Pansori. This approach contrasts with Bourriaud’s former work and ideas of relational aesthetics. If one of the basic points for his ideas presented in Esthétique Relationnelle (1998, in English 2002) was to see artists more as facilitators than makers¹³, can Bourriaud’s present approach be an updated version of it where there is still information exchange between artist and viewers but it’s not limited to the human perspective?

Bourriaud aims that ‘Polyphonies’ be interpreted as “relational spaces”¹⁴, which could be an updated and revised version of his relational aesthetics without referring to any aesthetic idea, background or tradition of “master thinkers”. Behind his thinking is the belief that artworks foster a new awareness of wider relations in the surrounding reality. This is exactly how art’s self-value is shown in the Biennale’s context. For him, art is the “sublime” of “saturated spaces”¹⁵ and “enveloping and catastrophe space”¹⁶. For Bourriaud, the Anthropocene epoch is an awareness of our anthropocentrism¹⁷. His “Relational Aesthetique 2.0” can be interpreted as an attempt to dissolve the human-nature dichotomy and conceive of a world without a center, but rather as a “world” of relations¹⁸.

Bourriaud has earlier left open the question of artistic, ecosophic practice, noting that art isn’t defined as a place that imports methods and concepts¹⁹. This lends Pansori a different direction for the Anthropocene or climate change within the context of Bourriaud’s work with relational aesthetics. Some of the works in which this different direction is exemplified are Hyewon Kwon’s multi-channel LED screen video installation, Cave of Portals (2024), which explores the layered histories of a single site through the lens of a lava cave on Jeju Island based on her research in which she mapped and sought to acknowledge the cave’s inhabitants; Cheng Xinhao’s single-channel video Stratums and Erratics (2023–2024) that documents his 900-kilometre journey along the so-called Burma Road, kicking a piece of stone to the Burman border, a performative action reflecting the layered history of caravan and maintenance roads, delving into the scale of history, its strata, and the passage of time; and Harrison Pearce’s Valence (2024), a timed performance featuring ten kinetic modular sculptures, each housing an inflated silicone rubber brain scan transformed into a rhythmic, white, clumsy sphere driven by mechanical systems.

‘Primordial Sound’, the third section of the exhibition, delves into realms at the edges of human comprehension and how artists seek imaginary spaces²⁰. It is presented in the Gallery 4, where *stirs (2024) by Marguerite Humeau, made with hand-blown glass around a ghost figure, holds a vessel containing a microbial ecosystem with 33 million old stromatolite bacteria. As a part of the installation, Humeau engaged musician Song Hee to record an experimental pansori composition evoking a classical definition of contemplation – deep, reflective thought aimed at perceiving eternal truths. This notion is similarly reflected in Dominique Knowles’ work, The Solemn and Dignified Burial Befitting My Beloved for All Season (2024), a monumental oil painting on linen depicting horses, evoking the paintings of the Lascaux caves, which have eroded over centuries. Other notable works in the Gallery 5 include Katja Novitskova’s Pattern of Activation (Gardens of Galaxy) (2021-)” a one-minute video loop that creates a particular atmosphere with its intense editing of images captured by trail cameras, confusing the vision between humans, animals, and machines, and, Saadia Mirza’s Iceberg Collisions (2024), a spatial sound installation exploring the “primordial sound” of historic Antarctic ice events. By working with glaciologists, Mirza captures the sonic process of calving, creating images of sounds that have existed independently of humans offering a perspective on human life’s limitations.

Under the fourth thematic framework, ‘Resonances’, eight venues in Yangnim History and Culture Village showcase site-specific works. The theme refers to sound in the context of art in the same way as how oeuvres form territory or a domain²¹. This historic neighbourhood, blending Western architecture with traditional Hanok houses and linked to Christian missionary history, draws visitors’ attention to local life. Using these venues also broadens the interpretation of artistic practices by artists such as Mira Mann, whose installation Objects of the Wind (2024) is featured in the Exhibition Hall and explores themes of Korean femininity across generations from a queer perspective in several installations and video works at the venue called Empty House.

Despite the uneven versatility of the presentation of sound in lived reality extended beyond human experience, Pansori effectively activates the audience’s senses without handholding – a curatorial approach that requires understanding the materials, artistic techniques, and living environments referenced in the works.

Gwangju (formerly romanized as Kwangju) is the sixth-largest metropolitan area in South Korea. During the period of Imperial Japanese rule, when the city was called Kōshū, Gwangju became a pivotal stage for the student independence movement. It was also one of the centers of a nationwide uprising against Japanese imperialist rule.

However, Gwangju is perhaps most famously associated with a different civil struggle for democracy. On May 17, 1980, peaceful demonstrations in the city were brutally suppressed by the military forces of an incoming president and dictator, Chun Doo-hwan, following his military coup d’état. This event escalated into the Gwangju Uprising, violently crushed after nine days of fierce resistance.

Korea gained liberation from Japan following the Second World War but became a target of ideological conflict between the United States and the Soviet Union, which occupied the South and the North, respectively, after the war. South Korea’s democratization process was far from simple—a fact that might surprise younger generations who consume K-pop and enjoy Korean dramas and movies. Since the separation into two countries, the political and economic influence of the United States has played a significant role in every South Korean government. After the Korean War, the government of South Korea’s first president, Syngman Rhee, took on authoritarian characteristics. For example, internal security forces were authorized to detain and torture suspected communists. Rhee’s government also faced resistance due to limited economic development and a lack of industrial growth.

The April 1960 Korean student movement led to a brief period of constitutional government known as the “Second Republic of Korea.” However, this period was short-lived and ended with a military coup. Rhee’s government was followed by different military governments, which were more bureaucratic and military.

From 1961 to 1979, South Korea was led by army officer-turned-president Park Chung Hee under a military regime. Although Park’s government organized elections in 1963, 1967, and 1971 to solidify its legal status, it manipulated the constitution, controlled the press, and arrested opposition leaders. This period of authoritarian rule ended abruptly with Park’s assassination in 1979.

Before the Gwangju Uprising, the opposition had gained increasing influence in the National Assembly, leading to the house arrest of Kim Young-sam, the chair of the opposition New Democratic Party. While Park’s assassination created a brief constitutional period, the military retained significant power in politics. This instability paved the way for diverse democratic movements, ultimately setting the stage for the Gwangju Uprising.

Park’s successor, Choi Kyu-hah, struggled to exert absolute control over the government, leaving the military in a dominant position. This allowed Chun Doo-hwan to seize military control through a coup d’état. However, Chun initially failed to consolidate direct authority. In March 1980, as the new academic year began, professors and students returning to universities formed student unions, demanding democratization, free elections, human and labor rights, and press freedom. This burgeoning movement faced harsh suppression, culminating in the Gwangju Uprising and the declaration of a national state of emergency.

May 18, 1980, became a symbolic date for South Korea’s democratization movement. During the Gwangju Uprising, an estimated 600 to 2,300 civilians and police officers lost their lives. The tragic events are memorialised through various monuments and the Memorial Hall in Gwangju’s May 18th National Cemetery. The uprising had a profound impact on South Korean politics. It served as a precursor to other democratic movements in the late 1980s, which ultimately pressured the military regime to implement democratic reforms. It led to the subsequent June Democratic Struggle in 1987, which led to constitutional reform in democratic elections and helped the organization of the labor movement.

The 1988 Seoul Olympics is often considered a pivotal moment in South Korea’s “dawn of globalization”, aimed to project a modernized and internationally recognized image of the country, which had faced criticism for its authoritarian regime when it was selected as the host city in 1981. With Kim Young-sam becoming the first civilian since 1960 to be elected president in 1993, South Korea’s rapid ascent within the global contemporary art world has been notable. South Korea offers a thriving art market with an excellent gallery scene and the third-highest number of private art museums worldwide. It is also the last country to receive a permanent national pavilion for the Venice Biennale in the Giardini area, constructed in 1995.

It’s evident that Chaebols, South Korean industrial conglomerates, play a pivotal role in the Korean art world. When reading the information about works of art, especially media works in museums and art centres, it is not surprising to see that Hyundai or Samsung are the commissioners of the work. The long-continued economic growth and the export industry also benefit contemporary artists and, from a national perspective, their integration into the “Art World”. Korea’s capital, Seoul, is a crucial location for understanding and contextualising the characteristics of Korean contemporary art and the vibrant art scene in South Korea. Alongside Hong Kong, Seoul plays an essential role in the East Asian art market. KIAF ART Seoul, organized by Frieze, has gained attention and recognition from art critics and audiences. The city is home to the Leeum Museum of Art, operated by Samsung, and various venues of the Seoul Museum of Art (SeMA), which the Seoul City Council manages. SeMA is also responsible for organizing the Seoul Mediacity Biennale.

The Gwangju Biennale is a notable example of how and why we need other geopolitical areas to understand the networked nature of culture and international relations. South Korea and the Korean Peninsula are the most vulnerable regions for potential geopolitical risks. The broader Asia-Pacific region, including the Taiwan Strait, is forecasted to experience heightened nonmilitary confrontations. It is also a key area where a new geopolitical status quo and emerging geopolitical blocs are taking shape. At the same time, as a neoliberal society, South Korea faces its own societal challenges, including a dynamic interplay between liberalism and conservatism in politics. Yet, the 15th Gwangju Biennale does not seem to engage deeply with these issues. Social concerns in Korean contemporary art are largely absent from this edition and in general the exhibition appears to comment little on everyday life. One notable exception is Lithuanian artist Anastasia Sosunova’s Local Beasts (2024), a welded sculptural installation accompanied by her video work DIY (2023), which explore the essence of a new neoliberal identity and the myth of active subjectivity.

Biennials are a balancing act between different localities and questions of universalism and particularity. Reflecting on the backgrounds of the Gwangju Biennale’s artistic directors and curators, it becomes clear that the biennale seeks balance with each edition, choosing directors carefully to promote diversity, polyphony, and different interpretations of how to sustain its role as a “living memorial”. Memorials and monuments are inherently problematic because they often serve the interests of the nation-state or exclude those who share a different heritage or history. This complexity is one reason I feel a particular sympathy for the Gwangju Biennale within the context of biennials, especially as a first-time visitor to South Korea and the Gwangju Biennale.

While the 15th Gwangju Biennale incorporates themes related to Pansori and draws upon Nicolas Bourriau’s idealism, it also signals a return to modernist ideals of art. This approach emphasizes material and technical properties, raising questions about whether climate-related issues are presented in an accessible way or merely serve as a pretext for showcasing “art as self-value.” We are at the new phase of the “biennalization” which seems to be an apolitical development cloaked in metaphysics and the recycling of classical aesthetics.