Cha Ji Ryang, Only people who decided to leave, can see everything, 2019, Multi Channel Video, 43min © Cha Ji Ryang

Facing the present of a single person seems frequent, yet it is rare. It is also an act that requires simultaneously calling to mind his birth, which may not have been logical; his life, including even memories that he himself cannot recall; memories of him that remain with me as biased fragments; and his absence that will exist in the lives of someone, including myself.

And looking into the work of the individual named Cha Ji Ryang always gives the feeling of facing the most unadorned present of a single person. He speaks by openly unfolding his most personal intimacy. Yet that intimacy is a universality sunk most deeply within many individuals, and the viewer feels the time of one person come in like a wave and then be swept out like an ebb tide together with one’s own time.

That time does not compete with other times, but mixes with them in complete equality, drifting across the vast open sea and occasionally becoming waves that reflect glittering ripples of light. And the waves sometimes briefly anchor themselves on someone’s instep before taking his time away again.

Cha Ji Ryang has always had a kind of home that cannot be clearly divided into settlement and migration. It does not conclude in the stability that comes from having a home or the anxiety that comes from not having one. Nor is it the same as discussions of identity or deprivation as a stranger, or the rights and conditions of life.

For a time, home for him was a place that came into being and a place that testified to departure, and in the end he returns home—to himself. In the place to which he has returned—in himself—he discovers home. Therefore, in order to speak about him and home, one must look into the birth of the “individual.” He has no experience of learning hierarchy.

This is fortunate, but it was not made possible by luck alone, because even in situations where hierarchy was prevalent around him, he chose not to be affected by it. Yet the fact that he did not learn it does not mean that he cannot feel the shell of the system. At this moment, the one who senses the shell becomes an “individual.”

For many years, he continues to attempt departures beyond the shell. His shell does not tear; it breaks. That broken thing became many fragments and remained as the works he presented up until 2012.

In 2012, Cha Ji Ryang set out to make his physical departure. When he hoped for the end of life in the freest state outside the shell, he instead danced. At that moment, something immediately returned “home,” and he realized anew that his home had no front door and contained countless rooms to invite people into, as well as a vast living room. He began writing letters as if he were someone who had never written a letter before.

His letters always specified a concrete recipient, but they were never written only for someone. This was because the letters could not even be written or sent unless he loved everyone, including the recipient, both those he knew and those he did not know. As he sent the letters, he continued the “dance” that began in 2012. Dance is rising as if swimming through the air before falling. Dance is taking off the coat one has been wearing. Dance is gazing at the sound heard inside the skin. Dance is becoming a place as volume.

Now Cha Ji Ryang is an individual who dances in “home.” Because he was able to leave, because he was able to fall, because he was able to return, he shares everything he has come to see with many others through his poses and breath, speed and volume. When he dances, the piano is a percussion instrument with a skin it has never had. It no longer even needs to be called a piano.

When he dances, sound is a frequency that bends behind the target and leaks out of the house. In his house where dance exists, until many others synchronize their own frequencies with the house, they do not even know that they wanted synchronization this much. They come to listen with their eyes and speak with their ears.

When leaving his house, some immediately enter their own homes and seclude themselves. Some wonder whether they are entering a home or entering a shell. Some contemplate leaving home. Some take his house into their own home. And some decide to try stopping.

Now Cha Ji Ryang’s “home” is every place that is transindividual and transpublic. The home that has occurred is both place and time. Therefore, home can disappear, grow larger, repeat, and return. He welcomes every individual in every place/time. He sees everything and plays everything. When he faces everything, he wakes while dreaming. He dances while stopping.

“Everything” is, in fact, freedom. This is because “everything” excludes nothing. This is because “everything” comes into being only when things are equal to one another. This is because “everything” is the repetition of making the past and the future into the present. This is because “everything” can turn something personal to the point of transparency into the most universal thing.

Through this “everything,” Cha Ji Ryang makes everything into material without instrumentalizing anything. Until a certain point, freedom for him was an object of deep longing, but now freedom for him means forgetting the purpose, the target, and the system. Yet he learns how to look directly and immediately in every place. The abyss and fantasy that can only be seen when one looks directly no longer have any hierarchy with the image of reality.

Now the act of distinguishing inside and outside through the shell is also pleasantly invalidated. The shell has the property of melting within freedom. Freedom does not seclude itself, and freedom does not leave. Freedom rather stays. Freedom is when the invited one invites the one who invited. They make room for one another to stay.

When it comes to freedom, the individual does not converge into a single person. Within freedom, the individual is the other. Suddenly, one briefly realizes that art is something one comes to know when one forgets art.


1)
Cha Ji Ryang, Only People Who Decided to Leave, Can See Everything, 2012.12.20–2019.12.20, multi-channel video installation, 43 min.
Cha Ji Ryang, As If There Were a Rainbow in Everything Visible, 2024, multi-channel video installation, dimensions variable.

References