
At PEM, taking shelter seriously — and fantasies, too
The building in the photographic part of the show is called Evergreen Tower. It's an apartment house in Seoul (Jung is Korean). In 2001, he posted a message in a hallway there: 'An artist will take a portrait of your family for free. Eligible: any family of two or more living in Evergreen Tower.' The 32 families shown here took him up on the offer.
Jung shot all the photographs straight on, in the living room, windows in the background. Beyond that, he let the sitters decide how to arrange themselves: what to wear, which items to be seen with, how casual or formal their manner. This is no shelter or fashion shoot, with an art director in charge. Rather, it's the sitters who handle art direction. As Jung intends, each photograph is a collaboration between them and him.
Advertisement
Jung Yeondoo, from the series "Evergreen Tower," 2001.
Jung Yeondoo
The apartments would seem to share the same design. The layout and size of the living rooms appear identical, as do the floor-to-ceiling windows in the background. The furnishings vary, of course, as do the people. The resulting tension between repetition and variation lends 'Evergreen Tower' much of its fascination, though maybe even more comes from the snoop factor. It's hard to resist getting a peek at the details of other people's domestic lives.
Advertisement
No socioeconomic information on the subjects is given. Based on the furnishings, residents would appear to be affluent. Based on the relatively modest size of the space, they would not appear to be wealthy. Most of the families have four members, a few have more, and one wonders how cramped the living quarters might get. One wonders if the apartments are uniform in size. What is uniform in size are the photographs: 32 inches by 22 inches.
Jung Yeondoo, from the series "Evergreen Tower," 2001.
Jung Yeondoo
What most definitely isn't uniform are the furnishings. One apartment has a crucifix on the wall. Some have artworks. Most don't. Many have large-screen TVs. (Remember this was almost 25 years ago, so they were still a big deal.) One has a piece of exercise equipment in the foreground. Curtains are usually open, but in a few of the photographs they're drawn. All of the living rooms have the same overhead light —
except
a few of them don't have a
fixture covering them. The compare-and-contrast appeal is considerable.
Jung Yeondoo, from "Bewitched," 2001–ongoing.
Jung Yeondoo
Jung Yeondoo, from "Bewitched," 2001–ongoing.
Jung Yeondoo
With 'Bewitched,' the video, compare-and-contrast is central to the enterprise. Starting in 2001, Jung began asking people a simple question likely to elicit complicated answers: 'What is your dream?' He's been asking it ever since: The project is ongoing. This version runs 22 minutes and 30 seconds. Presumably there's one that runs a lot longer than that. The title is a nod to the
Advertisement
Jung Yeondoo, from "Bewitched," 2001–ongoing.
Jung Yeondoo
Jung Yeondoo, from "Bewitched," 2001–ongoing.
Jung Yeondoo
With his subjects' cooperation, Jung would shoot them at work or in some other aspect of daily life. He then shot them in the context of the life they aspire to. In an effective cinematic touch, the image of reality dissolves into that of fantasy. The size of the projected images is 48 inches by 60 inches, which further adds to the cinematic effect.
A gas station attendant, nozzle in hand, turns into a race car driver. A waiter becomes a singer in an old-fashioned honky-tonk. A woman mopping up in an ice cream parlor shifts into a dog-sled driver, holding a harpoon, no less. A bicycle delivery driver is transformed into a maitre d' in a fancy restaurant. Might the waiter who becomes a singer work for him?
The transformations take many forms, often overlapping: geographic, economic, vocational, familial. All involve status. The nature of the transformations would be clearer if Jung provided any background information. Perhaps it's better, though, without any. That makes it easier for viewers to superimpose their own bewitching dreams on those of the people in the video. As with 'Evergreen Tower,' the various details seen are so interesting. But the true interest is the universality of dreaming. It's not just Jung's subjects in 'Building Dreams' who are dream-building.
JUNG YEONDOO: BUILDING DREAMS
At Peabody Essex Museum, 161 Essex St., Salem, through Jan. 26. 978-745-9500,
Mark Feeney can be reached at

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Los Angeles Times
7 hours ago
- Los Angeles Times
What this tiny restaurant in Australia reveals about L.A.'s Korean dining scene
At the end of a nearly two-week trip to Melbourne, Australia, early last month, I drove with a friend 50 miles outside the city to a rural town with the amazing name of Cockatoo. She teetered her pickup truck at the edge of a steep driveway, double-checking the address to make sure we were in the right place. She inched her way down to park and we walked the short path to a house nestled in the woods. Yoora Yoon greeted us at the door and welcomed us inside. We had made it to our Saturday lunch destination: Chae, a six-seat restaurant centered on the talents of Jung Eun Chae, to whom Yoon is married. Yoon stood at the crook of the L-shaped counter where the diners had settled and introduced Chae as she quietly glided between tasks in the open kitchen we sat facing. Then he left the room. Chae placed pots of ginseng tea on burners in front of us. We were in her hands. A trio of bites comprised the first of seven courses. Sanjeok can refer to skewered meats and vegetables; Chae reconceived the dish as minced chicken marinated in ganjang (the Korean version of soy sauce that Chae makes herself) and pan-fried. She hid a lightly candied walnut half in its center for crunch. It was flanked by two jeon, or fritters. One was a loose ball of shrimp and julienned king oyster mushrooms nipped with spring onion and chile, flattened where it had browned in the skillet. The other was a zucchini coin cooked in translucent egg batter. Each was a microcosm of mixed textures and savory flavors. I looked over with 'ok, wow' raised eyebrows at the friend next to me, Besha Rodell. Longtime food-obsessed Angelenos will remember Besha as the last food critic for L.A. Weekly, from 2012 to 2017. She's currently the chief restaurant critic for the Age and Good Weekend in Melbourne, and this month her memoir 'Hunger Like A Thirst' was published. We've been close for 20 years and shared many exceptional meals. Chae was shaping up to be one of them. A stone bowl filled with more diverse tastes arrived next. Pyeonyuk, striated pork meat and fat pressed into square slices for satisfying chew. Yukhoe, a tangle of chopped raw beef glossed with just-made sesame oil. The dish often includes Asian pear; Chae spritzed it instead with a fermented apple extract she had concocted. Cilantro leaves dressed in nutty perilla oil acted as mulchy contrast against poached octopus and a ojingeo-jeot, squiggly fermented squid. In the center of the plate, to season and balance the tastes, was a dense pool of cho-gochujang, a vinegared variation on the ubiquitous Korean chile paste. Chae had made this, too, from the very building blocks of Korean cuisine: She ferments her own meju, the bricks of crushed soybeans also used to craft ganjang and doenjang, the paste analogous to miso. I'm generally a fast eater. This collage of small dishes, where every element felt so considered, managed to slow me way down. Something beautifully simple followed: chicken noodle soup, its poultry-intense broth sharpened only by thin triangles of radish kimchi. Chae, who was born in Seoul, had been working in Melbourne fine dining when she injured her ankle in a motorcycle accident, forcing her to step away from the extreme demands of kitchen work. She was considering her next move when she watched the season-three episode of 'Chef's Table' on Netflix about Buddhist nun-chef Jeong Kwan, who lives and teaches at the Baegyangsa temple in South Korea. Moved by the clarity of her philosophy and relationship to nature, Chae went to study with her. It set the path for her tiny home-based restaurant, where she would make her own jangs — as she remembered her mother doing in her childhood — and serve meals only two days a week. I read up on all this after my meal with Besha, but aspects of the cooking registered as familiar even in the moment. Kwang Uh, the chef and co-owner of extraordinary Baroo in Los Angeles, also studied with Jeong Kwan; he met his wife and business partner Mina Park at the temple. With a couple of day's notice, Uh will make a vegetarian or vegan version of Baroo's set menu. When I think of its bowls of wondrous, seaweed-seasoned rice and banchan of seasonal vegetables, and treasures like dried acorn jelly with the thick chew of cavatelli, I can trace the through-line of Jeong Kwan's influence to both chefs. I'm remembering Chae's finale of rice crowned with spinach and mushrooms and sides of kimchi and spicy radish salad; she served it alongside jeongol (hot pot) of mushrooms and croquettes of minced beef and tofu. Los Angeles, we all know, is blessed with one of the world's great Korean dining cultures. If I'm hungry for jeon of many shapes, I can head to HanEuem in Koreatown. For soup that seemingly heals all ills, we have Hangari Kalguksu. For chefs that turn the essence of Korean cuisine into personal, meditative tasting menus, we have Uh at Baroo and Ki Kim at his new Restaurant Ki. And still: How rich to have a meal, on the opposite side of the world, that expressed another side of the culinary Korean diaspora unlike anything I've experienced. The economics of a small operation like Chae's must sometimes feel precarious. But the impressive structure and flow of the meal, balanced with a forested home environment in a room full of honeycomb-colored woods, was singular. Would a chef anywhere in the Los Angeles area be able to age meju, produce their own jangs and serve meditative meals to a tiny number of people? Unlikely, but if nothing else, it reminds me that the Korean dining possibilities here are inexhaustible. I'll be writing more in detail about my time eating in and around Melbourne in the coming months. Australia is on our minds at the Food section this weekend since the Times and Tourism Australia will present the 2nd Annual Great Australian Bite on Saturday, featuring chefs Curtis Stone of Gwen and Pie Room and Clare Falzon visiting from Staġuni above Adelaide in South Australia. The event has sold out, but food reporter Stephanie Breijo wrote about the Malibu property where Stone will host the event — and where he's building a new lifestyle empire.


Eater
a day ago
- Eater
A New Italian Spot Hopes to Comfort Lincoln Park After The End of Tarantino's 30-Year-Run
Another Lincoln Park stalwart fell by the wayside when Tarantino's closed in March, ending three decades along Armitage Avenue. The neighborhood's restaurant scene has seen changes in recent times, and three decades seems to be a magic number. Pizza Capri closed its own 30-year run earlier this year when it moved to Avondale. Goose Island Beer Co. moved on from its original brewpub, relocating to the Salt Shed earlier in 2024 after a 35-year run on Clybourn. As Tarantino's wished farewell to its clientele, word spread that Cornerstone Restaurant Group planned to open a new project in the space. Cornerstone's Chicago-area restaurants include chef and partner Bill Kim's Urbanbelly, The Table at Crate, and Bill Kim's Ramen Bar inside Time Out Market Chicago. Cornerstone is also known for its partnership with Michael Jordan, running MJ's Mag Mile steakhouse, plus locations across the country and South Korea. In Lincoln Park, the company wants to retain Tarantino's customers and lure new ones with Dimmi Dimmi Corner Italian, pegged for a summer opening at 1112 W. Armitage Avenue. Executive chef Matt Eckfield worked with Kim, splitting about 13 years at Belly Shack (the chef's shuttered Puerto Rican and Korean restaurant in Bucktown) and Belly Q (the shuttered Korean barbecue-style spot in West Loop). Eckfield left Chicago for New York's Major Food Group, working as one of the conglomerate's executive chefs, spending nearly 12 years with its famous Italian American brands like Carbone, Contessa, and ZZ's Club. Eckfield is hopeful to make use of produce from Green City Market, the farmers market held weekly in the summer, just east of the restaurant and toward the lake. Eckfield wouldn't spill on menu specifics other than saying customers, including Tarantino's regulars, will recognize the food. Expect a mix of pastas made on premises and seasonal veggies. There will be sandwiches. Eckfield is excited to pump out some focaccia, saying that while most anyone can make the flatbread, few folks can bake focaccia that actually tastes good. 'There's not going to be tweezer work,' the chef says. Former Boka Restaurant Group pastry chef Casey Doody is handling dessert recipes with gelato, cakes, and more. So Lincoln Park is experiencing a renaissance. Dimmi Dimmi, which means 'tell me, tell me,' in Italian, should open in late July or early August. Another notable nearby opening comes near the busy Halsted and Clybourn intersection, where a group of experienced restaurant veterans is working on Brick & Mortar inside the former Golden Ox and Burger Bar space. Dimmi Dimmi Corner Italian , 1112 W. Armitage Avenue, planned for a late July or early August opening Sign up for our newsletter.
Yahoo
a day ago
- Yahoo
Netflix adds movie Parasite director describes as a 'visual masterpiece'
When you buy through links on our articles, Future and its syndication partners may earn a commission. When the legend that is Parasite director Bong Joon-ho showers a film with praise, you know you're in for something truly special. To use his own words about Netflix's first-ever Korean animation, 'This visual masterpiece will take you around the universe,' and his verdict has sent excitement sky high for director Han Ji-won's vision of the future. And the wait for Lost In Starlight is over as Netflix has added it today [Friday, May 30] globally. While anime fans have known for a while that the film was on its way, Netflix ramped up expectations by keeping any images close to their chest. But that all changed a few weeks ago with the arrival of a teaser poster, followed swiftly by a trailer that shows not only the extent of the fantastical visual storytelling we can expect from the film, but the importance of music to the story. There's a sense of nostalgia in the poster, with a record player and vinyl albums pointing towards a unique cyberpunk universe, while the trailer itself gives a first taste of the film's evocative soundtrack. In Han Ji-won's feature debut, the setting is Seoul in 2050 and it's a romantic tale of aspiring astronaut Nan-young, who dreams of making it to Mars, and reluctant musician Jay. In a story of love, ambition and separation, the couple meet when Nan-young visits an audio equipment repair store in the hope they can repair an old record player left behind by her mother. It's there that she runs into Jay and a romance slowly blossoms. But they have to prepare for the prospect of being millions of miles apart as Nan-young goes deeper into her Mars research and gets the chance to go to the red planet. She's also encouraged Jay to re-discover his love of music but, with separation looming, they have no idea how it will affect their dreams of being together. Best movies on Netflix The use of light in the visuals will rock you in your seat. The impact is extraordinary, a combination of delicacy and literal brilliance, with cities drenched in sunlight and voyages to the stars wrapped in velvet darkness. Down-to-earth scenes of Seoul are beautifully re-created through Han Ji-won's stunningly evocative drawings, capturing the pulsating thrill and uncertainty of new love. There's also the sense that, at the heart of the film, is a mystery which seems to echo Interstellar, while the constant dangers of deep space start to get in the way of Nan-young returning to Earth to be with her lover. In the Korean language version, Nan-young is voiced by Kim Tae-ri, while Hong Kyung is the voice of Jay. For the English language dub, Justin H Min (The Umbrella Academy, After Yang) is Jay, and Maitreyi Ramakrishnan (Never Have I Ever, Turning Red) plays Nan-Young. Early reactions to Lost in Starlight beg an immediate question. Could it become the feature film equivalent of Netflix's record-breaking South Korean phenomenon, Squid Game? It may not reach the same dizzy audience numbers, but it might easily provide the perfect antidote to the streamer's number one non-English language series of all time. As Netflix's most successful launch ever, Squid Game attracted 265,200,000 views for its opening episode in 2021, and the clock is ticking as it moves into its third and final series on June 27. Picking up straight after the brutal cliffhanger at the end of season two, a failed rebellion, the death of a friend, and a secret betrayal are all on the cards. Fans of Korean animation and drama — or both — will be in their element. Lost In Starlight was added globally on Netflix on Friday, May 30. Seasons one and two of Squid Game are currently on Netflix in the US and UK. Season three arrives on June 27.