Bishop Museum takes on an old theme: the cultural ramifications of war

KALIHI—Two exhibitions currently on view at the Bishop Museum address the subject of war with equal parts compassionate humanity and smart edginess. Still Presents Past is a traveling show addressing the lasting impact of the Korean War that originated in Boston; If Not Now, When is a locally-curated companion exhibition showcasing Hawaii talent. The exhibitions, whose presence here in Honolulu are thanks to a collaboration between the Bishop Museum and Creative Modern Activism (CMA), opened to the public on Friday, June 25 and will be on view until September 12. They constitute essential viewing for anyone interested in the way war and other forms of cultural conflicts pervade our individual and collective consciousness.

It makes sense to start with the traveling show Still Presents Past, an impressive multi-media affair that weaves together personal oral histories with film, photography, history, and various other art forms to bold effect, portraying the enduring chaos caused by the Korean War. The Korean War remains a poorly understood war, particularly by young people who are largely unfamiliar with its widespread devastation and lasting social consequences. This lack of awareness is in large part a result of the silence surrounding it due to its association with the Cold War, as well as a taboo against speaking of past painful events. At the same time, Korean War veterans are entering their twilight years, making the timing of the exhibition critical to record their voices and experiences. 

The Korean War (6/25/50 to 7/27/53) was the first of a series of conflicts between communism and capitalism that resulted in three million civilian deaths, nearly two million combat deaths and casualties, and widespread decimation and suffering. It is often referred to as the “Forgotten War,” which is ironic since it never really ended. North and South Korea remain in a stalemate, with the prospect of continued violence always on the horizon, as most recently illustrated by the North’s sinking of a South Korean warship this past March. This interdisciplinary and interactive exhibition recasts the “Forgotten War” as a highly relevant conflict that desperately needs resolution. The show evokes contemplation and reflection about the now multiple generations of families affected by this ongoing conflict and the role that the United States has within it. 

One of the first works the visitor encounters, “Untitled” by Ji-Young Yoo (2005), takes the viewer into the combat zone, with a projector rattling off gunshots as violent war imagery is cast against a backdrop of serene anonymous death masks. The message confronting the viewer is that the wounds of war have seeped into contemporary life, as illustrated by a Orson Moon quote that flashes across the screen: “Why hold onto the past?  For me, it is not the past. The tear and terror of this time period have carried forward into my dad’s life ... to my sisters’ lives, my life, as a hole, a silence.” This theme of unspoken fear and grief poisoning the lives of multiple generations of Korean Americans permeates the exhibition, with the various art works addressing different sides of that damage, both in Korea and America. 

A work by documentary filmmaker Deann Borshay entitled “Practical Hints about Your Foreign Child” interweaves adoption propaganda from the period with footage of Korean children. It reveals the inherent tension that arises when well-intentioned yet paternalist nations (in this case the United States) step in to “save” at-risk orphans from a war-torn country (Korea). Borshay’s faux instructional video speaks to the pressure to assimilate (“don’t learn their language or culture”) and the popularized myths surrounding a victimized culture (“they are eager to please”) that often persist for generations. Given this issue transcends the Korean War—American adoption of child refugees from a wide variety of cultures and conflicts persists today—this piece is an excellent example of how art can simultaneously address a very specific instance in history while being relevant on a broader scale.

“Our Puzzle,” an interactive installation by Yul-san Liem and exhibit participants, exemplifies arts’ power to engage a wide audience. Its intent is to show how war, national and family separation, immigration, language, cultural and generational divisions, and fear of the past are all culprits in rendering the Korean War a taboo subject among many Korean Americans. The result of this silence not only dishonors the war’s survivors, but has also left missing pieces in their children’s (and grandchildren’s) lives.

“Our Puzzle” invites visitors to record their stories, questions, or concerns on wooden puzzle pieces and add it to the collective work, thereby creating a collaborative, organic work that is continuously evolving. While there were many Korean Americans taking this opportunity to document their experiences, no one was excluded from participating, which opened it up as a forum for anyone to express him or herself. The resulting work of art serves as a bridge from Korea’s brutal war-torn past into an ambiguous present, one which is surrounded by more questions than answers. 

This idea that we are all active participants in the Korean war’s enduring legacy continues with the companion show If Not Now, When. In fact, one exhibition leads right into another, with the only clue that one has entered a different show being a shift in the artworks’ formal qualities: The art in this show is more eclectic, colorful, and densely displayed. It takes the dialogue about the harmful legacies created by the Korean war introduced in Still Presents Past and extends it to explore the violence and conflict occurring all over the world. It then brings all of these expansive themes to down to a local level.

This show was juried by Alison Wong of The Contemporary Museum and curated by Trisha Lagaso Goldberg and comprises 47 artists with ties to Hawaii, such as Joe Bright, Gaye Chan, Chuck Chaney, Chae Ho Lee, and John Takami Morita, who participate in a visual discussion of peace, justice, and the heritage of non-violent resistance in Hawaii. In this dynamic show, questions of identity come to the surface, as youth of all backgrounds struggle to reconcile violent family histories with present realities. 

“RBY” by Chae Ho Lee is a series of Pojagi patchwork collages that incorporate official documents, such as birth certificates, with a traditional Korean patchwork technique. This unlikely juxtaposition explores the inherent conflict of reconciling the culture to which one was born with the culture in which one is raised. 

A strikingly different work is found in “Jesus Meets Muhammed” by Ken Charon. Created from acrylic and hemp on canvas, it depicts the founders of two religions that have been in conflict for centuries as friends, more alike than different—a playful take on a serious subject. Apparently he has given out many reproductions of the painting in an effort to foster peace. The adjacent work by Nalani Rasmussen, “We Free Again,” also an acrylic painting, recalls allegorical portraits by Frida Kahlo with a female muse (Israel?, Hawaii?, Mother Earth?) stifled by greed and corruption while time-honored virtues such as love, goodness, kindness, self-control, and peace, represented by Hawaiian tropical fruits, hang just out of reach. Both works discuss the corruption and violence surrounding the intersection of religion and politics to different effects.

One of the show’s gems is a photo collage by Joe Bright entitled “Affirmed: This is Real.” It was created as a response to events in 2007 when thousands of Buddhist monks marched in the streets against government oppression and the subsequent bloodletting by Myanmar soldiers. According to the artist, who is also an acupuncturist and practitioner of tai chi and meditation, the 8-by-5-foot work is a “graphic look at the contrast in moral and political struggles in Burma to this day.” 

At a distance (and unfortunately, the tight display space does not afford the viewer an optimal distance) the image reads as a Buddha; upon closer inspection it is clear that it is comprised of hundreds of unsettling and bloody images from the conflict. The message is clear: Through the transformative powers of art, beauty and redemption can rise from painful events.

“Perpetual Paradise Paradox”, another powerful series of photo collages across the room by Gerald Penaflor, seamlessly combines seemingly idyllic images of Waikiki with disturbing and violent imagery, asking whether by whitewashing painful truths we are destined to make the same mistakes.

Still other works are very specific to issues concerning Hawaii’s past and present. On the one hand, Sonny Ganaden’s lithographs explores Hawaii’s unique history through the lenses of specific Honolulu sites: “King St.” and “Hotel St.” On the other, Michelle Kaskovich’s assemblage, “Lost in the Cogs” probes an international issue that is especially pronounced here in Hawaii, given its strong military presence: the devastation of the current war. As a Marine wife living on Marine Corps Base Hawaii, she examines through her machine-like work the “sadness and worry, the hope and fear, the homecomings and funerals, and the loneliness” that characterize the experience of the men and women who serve, as well as their families. “From physical and psychological scars to the ultimate sacrifice of death,” she says, “we are repeating the timeless pattern of war.”

Beyond the art itself, there were two special events held at the museum for the shows’ opening weekend. On Friday, June 25, which marked the 60th anniversary of the beginning of the Korean War, the official opening of the exhibitions featured a reception, cultural presentations, a talk by Still Presents Past’s curator, Dr. Ramsay Liem, and a panel discussion. 

The following day, The If Not Now When Art & Music Festival for Peace and Justice made its mark on the museum’s lawn. This all-ages, youth-oriented event was an attempt to engage potential activists in discussions about war and its affect on our communities. It featured both educational and entertainment components, including performances by local talent such as Paula Fuga and Linus as well as popular Korean American hip hop artists, Skim and Denizen Kane.

The lineup and venue were impressive. It was well publicized. Food and beverage was available for purchase. It was a beautiful night lit by a full moon, and best of all, the event was free. That night the exhibition itself was pleasantly crowded yet given the supreme educational and entertainment value that the event offered, attendance on the vast lawn seemed somewhat sparse. This sorry observation begs the question, what does it take to galvanize Hawaii youth? CMA’s mission statement states: “We recognize the interconnectedness of our global community and we ask how what is happening in Hawaii is connected to what is happening around the world.” Agreed. Let’s just hope that we continue to see more inspired and accessible events such as this one, which juxtapose local talent alongside fresh perspectives. 

In the meantime, declare a cultural day and hurry to the Bishop Museum to take in these tremendously fresh and powerful exhibitions.