Gesture

Ewha Womans University, Art Studies

Prof, Dr.

At the center of Jangwoo You’s work lies “gesture.” A gesture is something performed through the body. Since we possess bodies capable of movement, actions done through the body are movements as well. But if we frame gestures this way, we risk equating all bodily movements, which is incorrect. Our bodies not only move but are also moved. This distinction goes beyond simply raising an arm voluntarily versus reflexively pulling a hand away from something hot. When we intentionally move one part of our body, other parts may move independently. For instance, when you raise an arm, your hand moves upward without your specific intent, and as you consciously walk, your arms move in sync naturally. For a dancer, it becomes impossible to separate the moving body from the moved body. The dancer’s body both moves and is moved. In every gesture, both the moving and the moved body coexist.

<99 Luftballons>

Singing is an intricate gesture. To sing, many parts of our body must move while many others must also be moved. Distinguishing between the two is challenging. Producing sound requires the vocal cords to vibrate. But are they moving on their own or being moved? For syllables to form rhythmically, the mouth, lips, and tongue must position themselves precisely. But as the mouth opens and closes, as the tongue and lips shape each syllable, are they moving independently or in response to the lyrics and rhythm? What about breathing during singing? Although we breathe naturally, the timing of each breath may be dictated by the song’s lyrics and rhythm rather than our personal control.
Jangwoo You’s 99 Luftballons exemplifies these complexities of bodily gestures. In this piece, the artist sings Nena’s 99 Luftballons with a microphone-equipped camera placed inside his mouth. Here, the camera and microphone’s movements are directed by the singer’s moving or moved mouth. The karaoke screen, seen through the camera, alternately appears and disappears as the mouth opens and closes. The microphone captures the muffled, fragmented sounds created by the vibrating or vibrated vocal cords, the continually moving tongue, and lips. If thetongue and lips—essential parts of singing—could listen, this might be how their own creation would sound to them.
To properly “show” a singing performance or “fully” convey its sound, the microphone and camera should ideally be outside the singing body. We can fully perceive someone speaking or singing only from outside their gesture. A gesture can only fully reveal itself to those outside it. Here, the camera/microphone is not just a recording device but part of the gesture itself. If the visible, moving body we see is the performer, then the camera/microphone, moving with the body, acts as a non-human agency embedded within the performance. Through this, we gain insight into the internal dynamics of the gesture.

<174Cm Object>,<Project to Grow Taller>, <Gymnastics Method for Growth by Bonghee Kim>

Before studying in Germany, the artist used his height as a recurring theme in a series of works. To match his height to that of a taller model, he dug into the ground where the model stood or symbolically reduced the heights of those taller than him. At a friend’s home, he even stacked objects to create a temporary structure equal to his height. These gestures reflect a form of regression. Stacking objects to match his height is reminiscent of a toddler’s possessiveness of their own creations, a return to primal narcissism that seeks comfort from the ego in the face of reality. Yet, these works hint at themes that would later define You’s focus on the body. We tend to view our bodies as tools subject to our will, but often, the opposite is true. Our bodies can betray us, frustrate us, or leave us in despair. For example, my body, my height, doesn’t grow as I wish. My height, a part of my body, doesn’t grow according to my will. Instead of growing by itself, height must be made to grow, involving a range of artificial measures. This embodies the duality of the body as both active and passive, along with our complex relationship with it.  

<The Study of Complaint>

This dual nature of the moving and moved body extends to the social sphere in The Study of Discontent. As is well known, Frederick Winslow Taylor’s Principles of Scientific Management (1911) and Frank Bunker Gilbreth’s Motion Studies (1911) laid the foundation for modern capitalist management by standardizing and optimizing labor. Gilbreth’s Motion Studies aimed to increase worker efficiency byeliminating “unnecessary” movements and maximizing productivity. Optimizing movements involved reducing individual variation in workers’ actions and standardizing them. By segmenting and refining tasks to fit standardized movements, each worker’s personal gestures, rooted in previous life experiences, were erased.
To conduct these motion studies, Gilbreth created specialized spaces, with grids on the walls to measure movement size and direction and stopwatch devices to calculate time. Using chronophotography developed by Étienne-Jules Marey, Gilbreth filmed labor motions, leaving visual traces of the workers’ hand movements. This technology allowed the visualization of motion traces without the moving body itself. In the visual domain, movement could thus be separated from the body that performed it.
In The Study of Discontent, Jangwoo You adopts Gilbreth’s visualization technique directly. Various professionals—cashiers, computer programmers, curators, secretaries, chefs, and others—sit before a gridded wall, wearing fluorescent wristbands, as their movements are filmed. But instead of performing work-related motions, they express dissatisfaction from their jobs and personal lives. Their moving/moved hand gestures are recorded visually, transforming a format once used for labor standardization into one that captures gestures of discontent. This typically serves to expose the contradictions of the methods appropriated, yet Jangwoo You’s work does not follow this path. Instead, he demonstrates that work-related motions are almost standardized by occupation, owing much to Gilbreth’s pioneering studies. But what about gestures of discontent? While it might seem romantic to believe that these gestures express something suppressed by standardized movements, it’s simplistic. Most human gestures result from training and habit, whether voluntary or involuntary. The Study of Discontent shows that gestures of discontent often mirror those of labor, highlighting the current reality of our relationship with our bodies.

<Belief and Reality>

This work unfolds through multiple layers and complex stages. It begins with the typographic debate in Germany from the late 19th to early 20th century, where tensions between nationalistic German identity and globalism were expressed through the typographies Antiqua and Fraktur. Typography might seem trivial but serves as a visual format that conveys ideas and ideologies. As McLuhan said, “The medium is the message,” and we know that the written word cannot be separated from its font. Typography shapes the ideological impression of its content.
In Belief and Reality, Jangwoo You starts by “writing” the letters of “Belief” and “Reality” in both Antiqua and Fraktur. He adds a second layer with Albrecht Dürer’s Instruction in Measurement (1525), a German book on geometry introducing precise drawing methods for spirals, ellipses, parabolas, and tangents. jangwoo You uses these geometric techniques to render each letter in both fonts, creating two graphic representations of each letter. The artist then overlaps these representations, projecting them as separate graphics onto the floor, with each graphic displayed for two minutes.
The performance is based on this intricate groundwork. Two performers move according to different typographic outlines, one following Antiqua and the other Fraktur, avoiding contact as they interact with each other’s spatial presence. This rule signifies the symbolic position of the body within social, political, and technological forces. Yoo’s initial question—what will emerge from gestures within this confined space—ultimately points to a second: can new forms arise from the ruins of past restrictions that still limit movement today?