FLANEUR

Joon J. Lee is an anomaly. His paintings betray my claim. In an era of manufacture, Lee’s paintings are painted as opposed to being made. Lee’s something of a throwback really—an artist with old school values—because he approaches his canvas in the hope of discovering something new to himself rather than striking something familiar. Lee should be applauded for this because he still believes in the possibilities that remain in the act of painting itself, and this is a nearly impossible act to pull off at this time—not even Gerhard Richter in all of his magisterial painterly manifestations could convince a weary/leery Benjamin Buchloh that painting (particularly abstract) wasn’t entirely exhausted and repetitive. Also, nobody—not since Warhol’s time, if ever—cares about an artist’s sincerity of intent. We live in a culture where even genuine innovation seems suspect, but strangely enough, this postmodern prejudice applies only within the realm of art.

Lee is a seeker in an era where most people insist on easy answers. Only the readily defined seems acceptable. Since the criteria for today’s art are set in place from the get go—then why bother mucking about? Illustration is clearly the model for painting today—so what does Lee hope to achieve with brushwork and the pushing of paint? What could possibly be discovered at this point through such a search? It is the duty of the painter, no matter how absurd, to believe in the possibility of painting, and that constancy is one reason why Joon Lee’s work is compelling. A painter paints through his problems, whereas another kind of artist settles for strategy. I say this without judgment, because they are an entirely different kind of practice.

The sculptor Christopher Wilmarth once stated, at the height of the mercantile ‘80’s “If it’s not magic, it’s merchandise.” Of course, one cannot discuss any kind of painterly “magic” without sounding either like a fool or a con, but I think that Lee’s painting does approach this subject with renewed vigor and invention. Lee’s painting has a familiar yet unfamiliar look because he’s willing to engage the unknown each and every time he paints. This has become an uncommon approach of late.

Most artists today strive to be professionals, even though that runs counter to their traditional role as anti-professionals—think of how an artist is stereotypically portrayed, whether we’re discussing everyday TV commercials or something like Carol Reed’s film Odd Man Out. Generally speaking, I think that professionalism has been good for painting, whereas careerism has nearly killed off risk taking. Joon Lee’s painting is successful because it opens up an entirely new emotional territory. Isn’t that range ultimately more interesting than predictable manufacture of yet another artistic product? The outcome of good painting should never be predictable, but not many artists are willing to take the real risks necessary to engage what’s at stake in order to accomplish a high level of surprise or revelation. Joon J. Lee is a risk taker. Most artists lack his probing intuition and grand derring-do.

Michael Brennan

Michael Brennan is a New York painter who writes on art

Joon J. Lee is a painter, potter, and musician presently residing and working in New Haven, Connecticut.