The Korean Pavilion marks its 30th anniversary as the last permanent national pavilion at the Giardini
VENICE, Italy -- Sometimes it seems easier to just demolish an old structure and build a new one. Such an approach to urban development is prevalent in some countries -- particularly in South Korea, where people expect that the reconstruction of apartment buildings will raise their property values.
But this attitude often overlooks the value of the legacy a space may have accumulated over decades and fails to respect the environment around the space. This was the idea of the Curating Architecture Collective, the group who curated the ongoing exhibition of the Korean Pavilion at the Giardini of the Venice Biennale. The pavilion, built in 1995, is the last permanent pavilion built at the site. The Curating Architecture Collective consists of Kim Hee-jung, Jung Sung-kyu and lead curator Chung Da-hyoung.
“The pavilion faced some challenges when it was built, such as preserving the trees around the space, even their roots,” said curator Chung, walking along the path around the national pavilion surrounded by trees reminiscent of a dense forest. The sound of crickets is projected through the space -- the idea of artist and architect Young Ye-na.
“The balcony tree was here in the corner of the space, designated for preservation during the design of the Korean Pavilion. The archival records of the pavilion show that the architects had to come up with a design to embrace the tree, which has since died and been removed," the curator said.
The current shape of the Korean Pavilion, featuring an irregular, wave-like wall, shows how it embraces nature, Chung continued, in a design by Italian architect Franco Mancuso and Korean architect Kim Seok-chul.
To preserve the terrain and the tree roots, following the city’s guidelines, the pavilion was built on micropiles slightly elevated above the ground. Artist Young Ye-na worked on the space underneath the pavilion, summoning imaginary ancient guardians.
The fictional creatures, which represent the primordial history of the Korean Pavilion, are installed beneath the pavilion’s piloti-supported space in a century-old structure that was once used as a restroom before it became part of the pavilion.
Inside the pavilion echoes the traditional Korean children’s song “Little Toad, Little Toad,” which children sing when they make little houses from earth. The lyrics go: “Little toad, little toad, give me your old home, I will give you a new one … your house is burning down, bring some buckets here, so I can build your home.”
Inspired by the song, the exhibition was titled “Little Toad, Little Toad: Unbuilding Pavilion."
“One day the song came to mind, and I thought it had a narrative similar to what we wanted to deliver at the exhibition -- architects who need to bring solutions to the table when the world faces challenges such as the climate crisis,” Chung said, adding that the theme of the exhibition aligns with the pavilion's architectural approach, which emphasizes respect for nature.
Architect Park Hee-chan made the most of the environment surrounding the pavilion for a group of works titled “Time for Trees,” which explores the relationship between the pavilion and its trees. Facing the glass wall of the pavilion, the work “Shadow Caster” is a fabric screen that captures the trees' shadows.
“I often heard that the Korean Pavilion is a difficult space to stage exhibitions in compared to other national pavilions that are more like white cubes. Compared to others, the Korean Pavilion has inevitably experienced some challenges when it comes to curating works as it is affected by its surrounding environment such as the light that comes through the glass wall and the shape of the space,” Park said.
On the rooftop is architect Kim Hyun-jong's “New Voyage,” an installation that resembles a ship and its sails. Overlooking the Adriatic Sea, the rooftop had been left unused for exhibitions due to its structural challenges.
“The pavilion is located at the highest elevation in the Giardini, overlooking the sea and trees. I wanted to explore the space, which has been left unused,” the architect said. "I came up with the ship and sails as Venice and Korea have historically relied on ships as important means of exchange with other countries.”
A cat named Mucca that has lived around the pavilion since 2018 is part of the embroidery work “Overwriting, Overriding” by architect Lee Dammy. It summons the hidden entities around the pavilion with stories surrounding the locust tree, which stands as a guardian of the Korean Pavilion, and Mucca, a cat who comes into the pavilion to rest on the woven embroidered work.
The Venice Biennale 2025 returned with its architecture exhibition on Thursday under the overarching theme of “Intelligence. Natural. Artificial. Collective,” curated by architect and engineer Carlo Ratii, and bringing together more than 750 architects, artists and engineers. The biennale runs through Nov. 23.
yunapark@heraldcorp.com
