These disgraced but loved, ruined but rich, never to be employed again until they are employed again, prodigal sons of #MeToo: they and their defenders are not, for all their protestations of innocence and accusations of lynching, outraged by the falsity of women’s accusations. They are outraged by the truth of those accusations. They are outraged, most of all, that saying sorry doesn’t make it all better: that women expect them, together with the world that brought them to power, to change.¹ 

Let’s start with a slightly uncomfortable story. In 2018, Ewha Womans University dismissed Professor K in the Department of Sculpture following #MeToo movement activism by the students.² Four years later, in 2022, following the Supreme Court’s decision³ to nullify Professor K’s dismissal, the university renewed the professor’s position on July 1 and assigned two lectures. The response from students was direct. They boycotted Professor K’s lectures during the enrollment period. Ewha Voice reported that there are no students enrolled for Professor K’s classes as of September 5 and that if there are no changes during the period to change enrolled classes, his lectures will be canceled.⁴ As of October 2022, you will find Professor K’s picture and profile on the website as a faculty member of the Department of Sculpture within Ewha Womans University, but you won’t find his name in the department class schedule. Still, his presence is frequently spotted even if you don’t search for him. In a magazine you coincidently read, or in some news about an exhibition, or in uploaded pictures by my acquaintances on social media…
 

In April 2022, Professor A⁵ of Hongik University was dismissed. His dismissal came about seven months after the ‘Joint Action for the Expulsion of Professor A of College of Fine Arts, Hongik University on the Grounds of Human Rights Infringement’ (hereinafter, ‘Joint Action’) announced a statement on September 8, 2021, demanding his expulsion. Because there were many cases where #MeToo survivors struggled against offenders with prestige and authority, it seems that ‘Joint Action’ was formed to respond with “collective power,” protecting the victims with the help of several organizations. MBC’s main reportage program, PD Note, reported the hardship and suffering of those aspiring to become young artists, including the incident of Professor A, under the title The Portrait of Young Artists of Korea, on October 12, 2021.⁶ At the end of September, the production crew called me several times and asked me if I could appear for interview on the side of the victims. I decided that it would not be a good strategy for me (as someone known as a so-called “fuddy-duddy feminist”) to appear as an interviewee and instead recommended that the crew reach out to credible photographers with good conscience. I promised them that if the crew still couldn’t find anyone who would accept their request, I would take part in the interview. They called me again.

I honestly and sincerely engaged in the interview for more than two hours. I did my best to explain the structural issues of art universities and art circles that cause a relatively high number of #MeToo cases at art schools. I put my soul into making a statement with as much objectivity and discipline as possible. But when the program aired, I only momentarily appeared as someone advocating for the ‘alleged victims.’ I was just about to file an official complaint to the broadcasting company and production team the next day when I received several notifications about direct messages on my social media. They were sent by the sexual violence survivors of Professor A and their close acquaintances. The messages were expressions of gratitude after watching the program right around the time they said they were afraid that they might be isolated and blamed without the support of any artist of standing who would accept an interview. I kept reading the messages that night and decided not to file a complaint against the broadcasting network.

During the past five years that the ‘#SexualViolence_in_ArtWorld’ movement and #MeToo took place, the thought of so many sexual violence cases and the offenders who ripped apart the academic community of ‘university’ crossed my mind. And I was reminded of the many students of mine who had to remember their experience of sexual harassment that they worked so hard to forget. Some of them fought hard not to be boxed in by their experience and led social movements to create a better environment, while others became dedicated to improving gender equality at schools. Then, there are those who still suffer from the pain of the past that has not been reported (and may never see the light of day). Classes frequently became a furnace of anger and pain, and many artists/lecturers (or professors) spent time saying how they were sorry to stand in front of students. None of the faculty members had heard about a manual that tells them how to respond in such a situation. No, in fact, no one had thought of trying to find one or considering developing a manual in the absence of one. We did not know how to think of these situations from the position of ‘educators.’ We were only geniuses when it came to practicing our desire for ‘self-preservation’ and protecting only ‘ourselves’ in this “hardship.”

In the art world, it is very common to be an ‘artist’ while at the same time holding the title of ‘lecturer (professor).’ And this type of dual existence is becoming more and more preferred. I have chosen the life of an ‘educator’ for more than 20 years as a way to earn a wage while staying in the art world as an artist who doesn’t generate much revenue from art sales. As of October 2022, I work as a non-regular part-time lecturer/professor in three different universities, teaching four classes a week totaling 12 credits. Spending time with students in close quarters focusing on art as a medium is the nature of all art school classes and the responsibility of the lecturer. If you add the time I spend on preparing for classes or interactions with students on top of the actual time spent in classrooms, I spend about four to five days a week on my classes. Of course, if you consider the dedication demanded from lecturers other than classes, the time I spend as an educator has much more weight physically and mentally than the time I spend as an artist. For these reasons, it is true that I sometimes feel that my identity as an ‘artist’ is threatened. But as most artists do, for most of us who must endure the time we put in our work ‘alone,’ the sense of being a part of a community at a university and the feeling of living life to the fullest as a social being by interacting with students are things that we cannot give up.

The reason why I described life as an artist/lecturer (professor), something that may seem a bit unnecessary in discussing feminist art, is because we must first understand the close relationship between the art world and art academy in order to understand the reality and structure of the contemporary art world in most countries including Korea. It is almost a rule without exception that one has to go through an art academy to enter the art world. And the network of the art scene and the existence of a ‘cartel’ centered around a few top-ranking universities located in Seoul and the metropolitan area is no surprise in Korea, where people value academic background. The close relationship between art academies and the art scene is positive in that the relationship enriches the role and capacity of each realm. On the other hand, it also has a negative effect in that it advocates male homo-sociality and enforces academic cliquishness. The example of how this relationship manifests in the worst possible way is demonstrated in the cases of Professor K and Professor A – cases of sexual and hierarchical violence committed through abuse of power and authority that is considered a part of moving from art university to the art scene founded on the teaching methods of a close relationship between student and teacher.

What the #MeToo movement brought to the surface at art universities was not just old authoritarianism or the sexual violence of some faculty members who still wield power. Classes on feminism that opened following requests from students and increased recruitment of female lecturers are very meaningful changes. Students were aware of the changes in times much earlier. I, too, was aware of the ‘feminism reboot’ occurring in art schools before 2015 when students started requesting a feminism-based curriculum or feminist lecturers. These demands further continued in 2017 during the “#SexualViolence_in_ArtWorld” movement. It was an effort to recover the community that was about to explode and break up as well as a clear warning to the abnormal structural dynamics of the Korean art world of today. The continued accusations of sexual violence repeatedly exposed the evil of the traditional power structure between the offenders representing the ‘artist/curator and lecturer (professor)’ and the victims representing ‘aspiring artists/students.’ In an instant, universities became a place of anger, suspicion, miscommunication, and taking sides. And incidents occurred not only between lecturers and students where there is a hierarchy of relationship, but also between female students and male students, female students and female students, and male students and male students under the alibi of the spirit of “artistic freedom and progress.” #SexualViolence_in_ArtWorld provoked not only the established art world but also the deep-seated issues of art universities overall.

In such a situation, we urgently need the prescription of ‘feminism’ in order to treat the wounds that we cannot bear. ‘Feminist art/work’ has become the most commonly discussed concept among students, artists, and curators since my debut in the art scene in 1997 and since 2005, when I began teaching at art universities. There is rising demand and expectation around feminist art criticism, and there are more frequent requests for lectures and manuscripts from universities and art circles about the current status of the art world from a feminist point of view. Such a self-purification process is welcoming but doesn’t stop a certain suspicion. A suspicion that said, ‘what kind of feminism can be the key to a truly reasonable prescription and solution at this moment?’ A suspicion that said, ‘why feminism and not a manual for a realistic and detailed response or an establishment or improvement of a law or policy in such urgent times? And why is there a demand for ‘feminism as an epistemology’ rather than ‘feminism as a methodology?’ Doesn’t it take more time for epistemology to work than a law or a policy? Moreover, feminism has made the public uncomfortable too long for it to be a useful cure for this pain. It was common for feminism to be sneered at for being “killjoy”⁷ or “uncool” and it even has a long history of being considered ‘something you don’t need to know about.’ How was it possible that feminism intervened in such a problematic moment in the Korean art community so quickly without reflecting on the history of misinterpretation that overshadowed ‘feminism’ for such a long time? What are the possibilities that comprise the meaning of feminism that has been summoned as the appropriate cure? Does it seek wisdom that can break through the specificity of the genre of ‘art?’ Or could it be that all these possibilities are only being accepted within a flat and simple logic?
 

Of course, it is crucial to think and practice the language and aesthetics that will occupy in a meaningful way the problematic triangular zone created by the three apexes of ‘Korea, feminism, and art.’ That’s because it should not be left to the imagination as an insidious mysterious space like the Bermuda Triangle, sunken in abstract language that slyly disappears without investigating anything.

However, it would be even more hopeless if this space becomes a community of discerning and censoring based on political correctness. This may lead to creating a deceptive refuge where one takes the opportunity to self-preserve by making the contradictory authority of otherness a resource, consuming and competing with the pain of others. Art critic Hal Foster said that we must see ourselves in the pain of others while highlighting the introspection of contemporary art in maintaining a “critical distance” rather than consuming or overidentifying with the pain of others.⁸ The feminism that is so easily summoned up with each and every episode of social injustice that has recently occurred in Korean society is excessively self-othering and is full of the screams of the competition of pain.⁹ Using this bizarre hostile (anti)language as the driver of feminist politics will never become meaningful unless it maliciously gets rid of the history of struggle in feminist criticism that has fought to enter the existing knowledge system by inventing and working on its independent language. This type of ‘feminism reboot’ and ‘backlash’ may be worth understanding in the context of the national and social conditions of ‘Korea’s situation,’ but its impact on the art scene as a venue for art representation will be meaningless and even harmful.

It is right around this point that we should briefly look at the activities of the Association of Women Artists (AWA) as a meaningful example. The association aims to eradicate sexual exploitation and violence by bringing down the chronic and problematic relationship and structure of the art world I’ve explained above. It provides a model of artist-activism and demonstrates that feminism is a methodology as much as it is an epistemology through action in every moment. AWA was established at the end of 2016 when the ‘#SexualViolence_in_ArtWorld’ movement came up to the surface, formed by the voluntary participation of a few women artists. The association came together in solidarity to urge introspection within the art world in response to various gender-based discrimination and violence issues that occurred. In its first official statement,¹⁰ AWA demanded an epistemological change from everyone while, at the same time, arguing that specific actions are urgently needed in the art world, including systematic reform. AWA demanded the following three points, urging for a voluntary change in the art community.

1. We demand that the Korean Artists Welfare Foundation establish a sexual assault counseling center.
2. We demand that the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism conduct mandatory gender equality education for beneficiaries and organizations of national funding.
3. We demand all art organizations to strengthen recruitment policies (including judges) and disciplinary policies with regard to sexual violence.¹¹ 

This first statement was announced on December 25, 2016. And in less than a month, AWA received joint signatures from about 2,000 people, spreading amongst young women artists.¹² Since 2017, AWA has held internal meetings and official forums as follow-up activities and quickly intervened in various incidents that occurred in the Korean art scene to help develop specific and detailed solutions. Organizations of a similar genre, like AWA, then came together to form the ‘Women’s Association of Culture and Arts (WACA).’¹³ WACA began to reach out to relevant ministries and parliamentary offices, including the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism to hold discussions on legal and policy improvements.

Since then, AWA’s activities have included getting involved with big and small issues of feminist agenda as well as expanding its scope to supporting women artist survivors of sexual violence, holding relevant rallies, discussions, forums, and public hearings, as well as taking part in relevant exhibitions or publications. AWA’s dedication was also demonstrated in the questions and demands¹⁴ for President A’s abuse of power in the process of shutting down ‘Art Space Pool,’ which was where artist Y, a sexual offender, was based during the ‘artist Y sexual violence scandal’¹⁵ that shook the art world once again in 2020. The organization also was involved in the enactment of the ‘Act on the Protection of the Status and Rights of Artists’ to solve the sexual violence issues in relation to ‘freelance’ artists, which was a key pillar of the agenda that was brought to the surface with the ‘artist Y scandal.’ The act, which was finally passed in 2021 after many difficulties, grants a ‘legal nature of employee’ to artists who are mostly ‘freelancers’ and recognizes the activities of artists as a ‘vocational activity’ something that was previously excluded from the scope of occupational activity according to the Labor Standards Act. The law has a huge meaning in that it emphasizes preventative measures and damage relief for sexual violence that occurs in labor relations.¹⁶ 

Another notable achievement among the various activities is the ‘#CodeofConduct_in_Art World,’¹⁷ which is a workshop that develops the ‘Code of Conduct’ for the culture and art circles in the prevention of sexual violence. This ‘Code of Conduct development workshop’ that began with AWA in collaboration with ‘Anti Sexual Violence Union of Busan Culture and Art Community’ and ‘Femifloor’ is an anti-sexual violence action where members of the culture and arts world talk about, discuss, record, and revise the guidelines and measures in responding to sexual violence. Participants of the code of conduct workshop are provided with ‘Code of Conduct workbooks’ to develop their own Code of Conduct after a series of discussions and deliberations amongst members of the relevant organization and community following the guidelines of the workbook, taking the time to shape and build a better future for the community.¹⁸ One artist who took part as a facilitator of this workshop shared her impression of the workshop with me. The artist said that there was hope that we could be healed by others and build ethical relationships with others inside this messed up community and that it was a bigger gift in the sense of an achievement that participants were creating something necessary.

Feminism is a methodology and an epistemology of practicing knowledge in critically thinking about the political, historical, and social structure of issues through persistent self-reflection while dismantling stereotypes or norms that encourage discrimination and stigma. Feminist art is the artistic intervention of feminist methodology and epistemology. And it has reexamined the aesthetic judgment in art history and created a new art history, bypassing the representations and politics that contemplate the boundaries of all gender categories. Feminist cultural politics has no choice but to establish an ethical relationship with all attempts to sharpen the sword of critical language. The aim must be to raise issues about the practice of art; that is the competitive arena of the desire for representation. And when we use that critical language to interpret artistic representation, feminist artists will face the responsibilities and ethics of art and closely examine all relationships that connect to our practice. This effort is also accurately in line with the core of the historic and self-reflecting artistic practice of so many contemporary artists who have pursued a move beyond ‘modernity.’ Feminist art and artists will emerge with a deeper historical and critical aesthetic understanding by building a permeated multi-layered interconnected relationship with one another. This will require much more endurance, responsibility, self-reflection, and furthermore, ‘connectivity’ and ‘expansion.’