In 2016, nonfictionhome was installed on the rooftop of the mmmg building on Sowol-gil. Against a gray, waterproof-coated surface, backless stools were stacked and scattered beneath the open view of Namsan Seoul Tower. The scene felt unfamiliar. I looked again at the exhibition title: Even If We Don’t Read Books, We Remain Seated. From there, nonfictionhome’s chairs continued to be installed, quietly but persistently, in unexpected places like a small café in Seochon, a supermarket, a gallery, a corner of a studio. nonfictionhome consistently referred to these moments as “installations.” In the early stages of using this word, it expressed clear skepticism toward full-scale renovations that tear down floors, walls and ceilings to remake interiors entirely. Could a space change simply through the installation of furniture alone, without construction? nonfictionhome began with this self-reflexive inquiry. In 2017, nonfictionhome presented No Home in Seoul in Mangwon-dong. The final line of the exhibition text lingered, “I thought watching good movies and reading good books would make life a little better, but it doesn’t. Just when I thought things might be getting better, I realized this is as good as it gets.” There comes an age when, to truly elevate life, not only good films and good books are needed, but decent furniture. The objects we practically live with must carry dignity. Home, however, remained out of reach, because finding a place to call home in Seoul is never simple. In 2020, nonfictionhome presented Living, Seoul 8py.* The exhibition revealed designer Jo Gyuyub’s actual living space, an eight-pyeong rooftop studio in Yeonnam-dong. “No matter how hard I worked, life didn’t seem to improve. I hated my small, dark home and kept drifting outside, only to feel more exhausted. The problem was the house. I had to change it.” So he transformed it into an “eight-pyeong home in Seoul.” It was filled with windows, sunlight and air. Jo Gyuyub, who longed for “a time and place where nothing was required of him,” finally obtained both a home and furniture in that space, in Seoul. The desire for a decent life expanded into a positive outlook on life itself. nonfictionhome was installed within this small dwelling, becoming a literal nonfiction home for one person, on its own. In doing so, nonfictionhome traced the story of a generation learning how to settle into Seoul.
* py (pyeong) is a traditional Korean unit of area, approximately 3.3 square meters.
In art, installation refers to the entire act of placing and arranging works for an exhibition. In installation art, places and spaces operate as both environment and part of the works. The early furniture of nonfictionhome under the term “installation,” focused on the integrity and independence an object had. Over time, nonfictionhome’s installations explore the relationships that unfold between space, furniture and people. A chair positioned for looking at a painting, a chair that holds a book mid-reading, a chair that quietly converses with a light fixture… Now we observe the objects as seen from where furniture is placed, the objects, people and scenes connected to furniture and the atmosphere that surrounds furniture. We respond to a subtle gesture furniture makes. We share its stillness or enter into dialogue with it. Or simply coexisting alongside it can be enough.
Installations by nonfictionhome are similar to the act of placing objects within the space. Installation, by nature, demands attention to position and arrangement. Jo traces this idea back to sentences found in books. The lines he likes are often composed of easy, simple words. Through arrangement alone, structure and meaning emerge with multiple layers, evoking various emotions. nonfictionhome arranges furniture the way a writer arranges words. Through arrangement, it shapes the character of a space, independent of finishes, decoration or materials of the space. Much like a poet selecting language, where words stand alone yet connect, furniture stands on its own while remaining connected. The arrangements of nonfictionhome are not about systems or construction. They are about rhythm and flow. In this way, words become poetry, declarations, songs, images. Words are misunderstood and understood. Likewise, a certain beginning starts to hum.
Curated and written by Nari LIM, CEO of Walkie-Talkie Gallery
