Third Street Gallery archive: 2013 Exhibitions: Forest Invisible - Photographs by Young Suh

Humboldt State University First Street Gallery is pleased to present, Forest Invisible, a solo exhibition by photographer Young Suh, on display from October 4th through November 3rd, 2013. The exhibition will feature photographs that examine the tradition of landscape as a subject in art as well as our culture’s dissociative relationship to nature.

Suh’s photographs examine forest fires as they alter the appearance of the landscape. Exploring the relationship between wilderness and human intervention, he depicts aspects of life in the midst of fires, from unconcerned civilians to working fire crews. The viewer experiences seemingly tranquil imagery that masks the underlying violent threat of fire

Suh states that, “Forest Invisible is a narrative of human emotions in nature––our desire, projections and failure. A narrative of nature is always a struggle between two sides: the one who wants to contain the other, and the one that proves the other wrong. But this struggle has been for so long that it is more like a dance than a war. It is an aesthetic experience.”  Young Suh has been making photographs on the subject of nature and human desire to control her for the last decade.

Young Suh will give an artist talk about his photography at Humboldt State University. He will talk about his latest book, Forest Invisible and the current exhibition of the same title at the HSU First Street Gallery as well as his past and current works about living in nature. The talk is free and open to the public and will take place on October 11 at 4:30 p.m. in the Great Hall, 2nd floor above the College Creek Marketplace, corner of Harpst and Roswell, Humboldt State University campus, Arcata, California. For parking information, visit www.humboldt.edu/parking

A native of South Korea, Suh attended Pratt Institute in New York where he received his BFA in Photography in 1998. Suh went on to receive a Masters of Fine Art in Studio Art at the School of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston in 2001. His work has since been featured in galleries and museums nationwide. Suh is currently an Associate Professor of Photography at University of California, Davis. 

A reception for the artist at HSU First Street Gallery will be held Saturday, October 5th, 2013 6:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. during Eureka’s monthly Arts Alive event. The gallery is open Tuesday through Sunday from 12 to 5 p.m. and is located at 422 First Street Eureka, California. Admission is free. Those planning group tours are encouraged to call ahead. For more information call 707-443-6363.       

Forest Invisible

I was once invited to a controlled burn by the US Forest Service, that was being held in the area inside a prison land in Southern California where they train firefighters. Across from the highway is a Six Flags amusement park whose giant roller coaster structure was remotely visible from the top of the barren hills through the haze of the 110 degree California sun. I spent a day walking around in a heat that seemed not so much different from the fire I was supposed to be observing, no trees left to give me a shelter and one bottle of water.

I was wearing a fire retardant shirt and pants, yellow on the top and green on the bottom, shades of color that failed to resemble anything natural, let alone the environment that surrounded me. Still the suit gave me a sense of comfort. I was protected by it: a strange reminder of the official term, PPE, personal protective equipment. My newly bought pair of firefighter's boots was so stiff that my feet were already blistered everywhere a bone hit the inside of the shoe.

My walk was a physical reminder of the landscape I was in. The hard inside surface of the shoe rubbed against the peeled skin over and over. When there is not much you can do about the pain, it seems to make sense. You take it as part of your existence. The scar represents your being, but at the same time you don't want to make such a big deal out of it. It would be impossible to even consider taking the boots off and walk barefoot. The landscape was oddly familiar but utterly invisible. It is the invisibility offered by the landscape, and by fire that I am interested.

Smoke is the medium through which light is made visible and it renders everything invisible. I am irresistibly attracted to its brilliance and at the same time saddened by its disappearance and by the things that disappear with it. Perhaps it explains why I often feel exhilarated with a sense of being lost in the smoke. I think of the irony of Casper David Friedrich's Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog. We are betrayed by our desire to climb high and see everything underneath. We end up only looking at the mist, blinded by our own desire.

When you step inside smoke, it is not easy to find air. The particles get through your nostrils and fill your lungs. They seem heavy inside you and it is history that weighs down your body. It is the same weight that buoyed the minds of the 19th century men like Bierstadt and Gifford. The layers of oil paint that once built the glory of an upcoming history, and the haze in many of their paintings so thick it diminishes the sun, are both stuffed in our collective lungs and immobilize us. The smoke will scatter away, but it will leave its weight for us to carry.

I wonder if trees ever dream. We swim through the density of our desire and the debris of what we have become while nature, violated and gone wild, is fully awake and crackles her question to us, "What on earth do you see?" As if she already knew our loss in the thickness of our reverie.

Young Suh
Autumn, 2013