| 1An allegory is an indirect mode of revealing one’s  intention through some kind of object, instead of directly conveying one’s  inner thought. The term ‘allegoria’ is Greek in origin. Greece is known  as a country of many allegories. That is because they were able to create a  number of myths. The Greeks had a habit of personifying plants and animals.  Unicorn, Pegasus, and Narcissus are well-known allegories. They are all  substitutes the Greek people employed when expressing their intentions. They  are not the names of the subjects but the names of subjects that refer to other  things. In this regard, the Greeks said they borrowed ‘others’ (alla) when  speaking of (agorein) their true intention.  The Greeks called it ‘allegoria’. The Korean word ‘우의’  refers to ‘adding one’s own meaning to other objects’. This is a composite word  of   implying ‘adding’ and 意 suggesting ‘meaning’. This world is often replaced with ‘풍자’ signifying ‘likening  something to something else and accurately hitting the core’.
 The reason why I use the concepts of allegory and satire  in introducing Jeong Ji-hyun’s work is that, since her first solo show Repose in Unfamiliar Space in 2003, she  has embraced objects such as eggs, fish, pillows, chairs, jewelry, and  cactuses, as the substitutes for revealing her intention. She tries her utmost  to depict them and tries to persuade others to believe that they actually exist  somewhere in this world. The artist clearly represents unknown objects that may  be discovered in the world of fiction by appropriating a realist manner. This  means her work is made in an allegorical type. In the artist’s statement, she  remarks:
 “A cactus with  blood-colored thorny leaves set in a bleached space of silence, a faded chair  covered with red mold, and mutative flowers embracing a thorny cactus – these  all provoke gentle yet acute, comfortable yet sinister, beautiful yet  inconvenient feelings. They are all stuffed and seem to be taking repose in  eternity. Time completely disappears and this resting state seems to be  perpetual.” In this statement, she alludes to three points,  obviously expressing the state of her mind. She expounds on the fictitious  characteristics of eternal repose rather than her longing for it, and she makes  known her painterly impulse and desires to occlude the gap between reality and  fiction. This doctoral degree exhibition creates all the necessary conditions  of an allegory. She makes them public under the title of A Desert Garden. The following is a delicate description of the  allegorical aspects of her recent work, A  Desert Garden.  2‘The room of allegories’ is the concept I embrace  to help viewers understand this work. The ‘room’ was appropriated from the  titles of her work. In her early pieces (2003), unfamiliar spaces appear instead  of rooms. For example, she placed eggs and fish in a transparent bottle, on the  tender cotton, a cold steel plate, a mirror reflecting the sky, and a vast  desert.1 The room was clearly embraced in her 2005 solo exhibition. Under the title In My Room, she began actively using the  motive of rooms along with depictions of red mold flourishing in drawers,  pillows, chairs, and sofas, as well as figures of thorny cactuses, soft seeds,  and fragile beads.2 At that time she also presented two solo shows  in June and August consecutively.
 In her 2005 exhibition titled Persephone’s Secret Room, Jeong displayed Kore’s Room, representing her allegorical ideas. Kore’s Room and Kore’s Room – Looking into the Inside, made of synthetic resins,  consist of the repetition of tiny white rooms, reminiscent of beehive cells.  The rooms are filled with pink and cobalt-colored gem eggs, recalling Alice in  Wonderland.3 In her series of pieces featuring Persephone, the Queen of the Underworld in  Greek mythology, she represents her secret, imaginative room. Proserpina is the  Roman equivalent of the Greek goddess Persephone. She is also the Queen of the  Underworld. They were all enchanting young girls as the daughters of Zeus and  Jupiter respectively. Their destinies change after being kidnapped due to their  beautiful appearances. They may be allegories suggesting a Korean saying,  “Beautiful women are often ill-fated.”
 As the cost of accepting their destinies, these  ill-fated women lived in weirdly beautiful rooms, changing into the deities  that govern the underworld. What is quite regrettable in this story is that  such beautiful girls transform into the women who govern the world of darkness.  Through this allegory, Jeong implicitly signifies the existence of evils that  are perhaps pervasive in this world. This is closely associated with the  allegorical meaning that Jeong’s Persephone’s  Room implies. The gloomy yet flamboyant colors and atmosphere of the world  of evils she depicts in Room of  Allegories are accurate in describing the world today.
 This up-and-coming young artist presents luxurious  substitutes to signify the height of gaudiness and hypocrisy in our times. 2006  and 2007 were decisive years in this regard. In 2008 she produced many  variations such as Spring in a Desert and Desert Flowers. All objects in  these paintings become rearranged and systemized. These  objects are all based on the archetype of huge dark-blue narcissus flowers  Zeus, her father, used to abduct her. The artist modifies these  narcissus flowers into cactuses by adding thorns. The narcissus, an allegory  for incest, was the means Pluto and Hades, the gods of the underworld, used to  camouflage their evil characters.
 The myth that a good-looking boy, Narcissus,  turned to a narcissus flower as the result of his love of himself indicates an  allegory that one may change into something devilish due to his or her own  arrogance and folly. Jeong’s beautifully modified plants are allegories of our  times, suggesting our arrogant, vicious existence.
 3Jeong Ji-hyun depicts the variant of the narcissus  and that is because of her fate to become Persephone or Proserpina. The artist  alludes to the following in his recent statement concerning this fate.
 “The things I  depict are likely to be in perpetual repose, but they are actually fictitious.  They are perhaps the manifestation of my nostalgia for something inaccessible.  Red thorns and red molds thrive in my work. This means an attempt to eventually  obliterate any eternal substance by shattering time. The thorns and molds flourish  in the gap between eternity and transience. They appear in a hybrid of the  senses - tactile, visual, and aural – and stimulate my imagination. I fill up  the chasm of my feelings, transcending mixed time and space. I feel even a  psychological, neurotic sense of disruption. I fall into chaos in a middle  position, wandering between disruption and emptiness.” Jeong has conceived allegories to make up the gap  between symbols and actual beings. The pangs of creation bring about any  mental, neurotic disruption. On the contrary, the artist has to reproduce Persephone’s Secret Room to heal this  schizophrenia. She draws and puts the variant of the narcissus into this room  by Persephone’s allurement and encouragement. That is why this is the only way  to heal her schizophrenia. Broadly speaking, she wants to heal her own anguish  and contemporary people’s agony like this. This motive gives rise to the exhibition A Desert Garden. This show is of  significance in that it extends The Room  of Allegories to The Garden of  Allegories. The room is different from the garden in its scale. She depicts  one or several decades of species of flowers and plants to expand the room to  the garden. The techniques to back up this expansion become varied. She modifies  them to show that they are allegorical elements. The varietal plants and  flowers signify gloomy aspects of our times. She shows this world becomes  deteriorated through the ways of adding, smearing, and scattering blots and of  setting a room in a desert.
 Like a thremmatologist, she depicts the most savage  imaginary plants and flowers of the world on the  temporary stage of a desert. Good and evil compete with each other on this  stage. A huge variety of mutants swarms here. They devour or hybridize one  another. A desert is a place where only the most  poisonous, vicious creatures can survive.
 Jeong renders images in flamboyant forms and  colors to survive in the age of mutants. Her artistic strategy for survival is  to pictorially represent a room where such mutants dwell. Thorns appear  dreadfully sharp while petals boast off their eerie beauty. A mixture and hybridization  of blots diverse forms give rise to a savage quality that takes on the color of  unknown red. They look rough and shocking yet beautiful. Desolate, dismal life  forms such as withered flowers, flourishing mold, flowers in full bloom, and  flowering cactuses assert that even a desert has the spring season. Those  creatures in her work seem to compete with one another. That is surely  Persephone’s garden.
 The artist persuades us to recall Persephone’s  garden, while seeing A Desert Garden.  She emphasizes that we have to resemble wild creatures to survive in the  reality like a desert where existential beings and souls become withered.
 Jeong’s doctoral dissertation alludes why she  induces us to the world of wild nature. A symbolic suture her dissertation  underlines is a painterly strategy to narrow the split between reality and  imagination. As did Louise Bourgeois who has showed the fierce spirit of our  times, Jeong intends to make up the gap by propagating the variants of images.  This is not useless but a strategy for survival. If seen from the framework of  psychoanalysis, this is a politically retrogressive conception to return to a  child. As Jacques Lacan pointed out, we lose our identity and become otherized,  as soon as we began talking a verbal language as a child.
 We are all like this and the gap between symbols  and realities thus becomes infinitely widened. We have to return to the mirror  stage of our innocent childhood days to make up this gap. The only way to do  this is to identify ourselves with Persephone. To do this, we have to the  simulacra of an Imago like the Room of Allegories. We cannot help do this.  Jeong considers that our destiny.
 Jeong stops here. She thinks we have to  appropriate a spectacle like the room of a shaman, take is as an allegory, and  then depict the Room of Allegories. Her recent work confirms there is no way  except for this. A Desert   Garden on display at the  show connotes all aspects.
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