
Daegu
The colors of life staining the white cloth
Kim Ji-hee
Natural dyeing, combining modernity and tradition, is coloring the world.
Edit Danbee Bae, Jihyun Cho
Photograph Yeseul Jun
Master Kim Ji-hee, an artist and educator, has dedicated her life to promoting natural dyeing. Her works, which combine modernity and tradition, have captivated people around the world, and she is now fully occupied with passing on the experience and secrets she has acquired over many years to her students. In her, who says that the process of being born as a white cloth, dyeing several times, and returning to white resembles human life, I saw a profound sublimity and elegance that emerges after penetrating everything. Her time felt like the very time of natural dyeing.

You mentioned that you vividly remember your mother dyeing fabric with indigo or safflower when you were young. It would not be an exaggeration to say that the scene you witnessed that day served as the foundation for the continued legacy of natural dyeing in South Korea today. Please tell us what inspired you to start natural dyeing.
My parents' hometown is a place called Deoksan in Changwon. I grew up there when I was young. Watching my aunt and mother weave and dye, I naturally experienced the process of making traditional textiles, even trying to imitate them myself. When my father ran his business in Masan, I grew up surrounded by nature. On a plot of land exceeding 1,000 pyeong, my father’s factory stood alone, surrounded entirely by forest. Living in the woods where flowers bloomed in the spring, I lived a life distinct from that of the city. I tended flower gardens and even made maps of Korea out of grass. Therefore, it was only natural for me to come across natural dyeing.

I heard that you were inspired by natural dyeing while pursuing a post-master's research fellowship as an associate professor in Japan, after observing how Japanese universities taught about Japanese roots before the creative process. I imagine you must have felt a great sense of regret, contrasting this with the situation in Korea at the time, where traditional dyeing was drifting away due to "factory-style chemical dyeing."
I majored in applied art at university, but I found that the curriculum did not place much importance on tradition. I learned contemporary art under the influence of the West. After receiving that education and becoming an associate professor, I went to Japan to find out what was missing in Korea. This was to complete the research fellowship, an advanced program at the graduate school of Tokyo University of the Arts. I found that Japanese education begins with tradition. Students visit folk art museums to learn the roots of tradition, and even when buying a single item, they are required to purchase it from an antique art market. While studying in Japan for a year, I realized that one must properly study tradition first. Upon returning to Korea, I began teaching my students tradition first. Once they started learning from our country's roots, the students no longer needed to imitate Western works. They discovered that there are excellent materials for patterns and designs within Korea as well. In this way, they were able to study what they wanted in various fields, starting with the types and textures of textiles. I instructed them to refer to Western books only to observe recent trends—that is, the flow of artistic movements and colors. This is because it is easy to become narrow-minded if one studies only tradition.

I heard that you brought back indigo dye (an annual plant cultivated for natural resources, the leaves of which are used as a blue dye) which had already disappeared from our country, and widely popularized it. I think that the act of bringing the indigo seeds is truly an event that will go down in the history of natural dyeing in Korea.
Upon returning from completing a dyeing and weaving course in Japan, I brought back five indigo seeds. This was because indigo seeds were originally native to Korea but had disappeared after being taken to Japan. Consequently, I had to cultivate these annual plants with constant effort to ensure they would not die. Although you can find indigo seeds just by going to Dongdaemun now, you have no idea how precious they were in the past. We expanded the reach of the plant using seeds I brought to the Gyeongbuk and Yeongnam regions, Mr. Ye Yong-hae to Seoul, and Venerable Seongpa to the Gyeongnam region. The seeds brought by these three people spread throughout the country.
You established the first natural dyeing museum in Korea. I heard that you sold the land you owned at the time and poured all of your retirement savings into building the museum.
I began preparing to establish the museum three years before retiring from my position as a university professor. Although the museum does not appear large from the outside, it was expensive because I constructed the building using traditional methods, such as raising a tiled roof and building red clay walls. Back then, I had no idea how difficult it would be to run a museum. The Natural Dyeing Museum exhibits artifacts related to dyeing, and the Folk Dyeing and Weaving Tools Room within the museum displays the tools that form the basis of dyeing.

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Daegu has been famous for textiles since the Joseon Dynasty. It is the starting point of textile history and is still called the "City of Textiles" today. Is there a special reason why the Natural Dyeing Museum was established in Daegu, of all places?
Partly because I had taught in Daegu, but also because I believed that a natural dyeing museum was absolutely necessary for Daegu, a city known for its textiles. After the museum was built, I hosted seminars for international conferences there. The Director of UNESCO mentioned that Professor Kim Ji-hee was the first person in the world to establish a natural dyeing museum. I felt a great sense of pride at that time, and later, thankfully, I won the UNESCO Award of Excellence for Handicrafts in an international competition in 1988.
While dyeing is only complete with fabric, undyed fabric appears far removed from beauty. It seems your perception of the importance between fabric and dyeing might differ slightly; what does fabric mean to a natural dyer?
Just as humans are born with an empty body, natural dyeing begins with white cloth and takes on color. Due to the nature of natural dyeing, the color fades quickly once it is absorbed. In the past, people would re-dye this faded cloth, mend it when it wore out, and repeat the process of dyeing it again when it faded. However, the cloth is beautiful in its faded state. Unlike chemical dyes, the faded color is beautiful. If you repeat that entire process, the cloth eventually turns white again. It is just like a human being born with an empty body who leaves this world with an empty body. Ultimately, natural dyeing is akin to the providence of nature and the cycle of human life.

The patchwork piece 'Jjok-Bojagi,' which resembles multiple pieces of fabric sewn together, is recognized as a three-dimensional and dynamic work that breaks away from conventional flat imagery with its modern patterns. What message did you intend to convey by integrating this with contemporary art?
The reason I did not become a Living National Treasure is that doing so would require me to stick solely to tradition. I would be unable to incorporate contemporary art and would be limited to merely reproducing old works. When I was invited abroad, I was told that they would not have invited me if I had insisted only on tradition. I believe that I was able to introduce Korean art to the world precisely because I practiced contemporary art while rooted in tradition. The artistic trend of the 1980s was a period where artistic techniques emerged from the walls. It was not about paintings on flat surfaces or embroidery, but rather installation art. In the early 1990s, the focus returned to the walls. I sought to reflect these trends in my work. I even created large-scale works using leather and cloisonné. I believed that one should not place limits on materials and should be allowed to do whatever an artist is capable of. As such, one must not ignore the trends of the times. When the times are harsh, the flow of color is bound to follow those trends. The people of the world are the trends themselves; they change rhythmically. When active as a master, I focus on the traditional, but when active as an artist, I focus on the modern.
With manufactured goods overflowing and the world rapidly changing around speed and convenience, natural dyeing seems to stand in stark contrast. What unique value of natural dyeing do you wish to convey to future generations and the public?
Korea was the birthplace of natural dyeing. While a single tree that grows naturally is considered "natural," we cultivate everything ourselves—from safflower to weeds—so it is unrelated to the concept of "natural." Anything that involves human intervention is referred to as "naturally produced," not "naturally made." "Natural" is considered non-artistic. Before the advent of chemical dyes, everyone used natural dyeing. Our mothers and grandmothers used plant-derived dyes to make silk jackets, re-dyed them when they wore out, and sewed by hand since there were no sewing machines. It is about the heartfelt dedication of the hands. The Natural Dyeing Museum offers classes for seniors. They greatly enjoy working with their hands—specifically, the dedication involved in natural dyeing. Natural dyes can fade easily if the process is not handled properly. However, if the process is repeated about four times or complex dyeing is used, the dye never fades. All of this is a process of patience. The significance lies in interpreting it differently from ordinary mass-produced goods and creating it yourself with affection. That is what is important.
Maker's Pick
Master Kim Ji-hee's representative bojagi artwork

Wrapping cloth of Paper mulberry+Sigma ' Natural dyes, synthetic dyes, plastic dyeing, Hanji pulp, 160X140cm, 1995
The artwork 'Bojagi + Sigma (Infinity)' signifies the eternal nature of life. In the past, women would wrap newborn babies in bojagi, and later used them to store clothes and cover food. In the past, bojagi were used as a substitute for furniture. Women of the past continued sewing with the hope that their parents would be healthy and their children would prosper. This bojagi artwork aims to express that heart seeking hope—that is, a sense of aspiration.
The colors of life staining the white cloth
Kim Ji-hee
Daegu
Edit Danbee Bae, Jihyun Cho
Photograph Yeseul Jun



