The Idealization of Beauty

I present to you, the following pieces:

"Wing of Eagle" (2018); Necklace — Chun Eun-mi

"Have You Got the Guts?" (2011); Necklace  — Michelle Kraemer

I had the pleasure of witnessing these pieces in person, currently housed in the Seoul Museum of Craft Art (SeMoCA), as part of the Korean and Austrian intersection exhibition (titled "Beyond Adornment") held in the summer of 2024. 

Why do we find it easier to accept beauty when it isn't rooted in something visceral or real? The idealization of beauty often treads a delicate line between awe and discomfort. In its traditional sense, beauty is often associated with an aesthetic harmony and grace, yet there's a deeply complicated layer to this.

Kraemer's piece is an immediate confrontation. I remember my hesitation in approaching this piece. The textures and forms mimic the fleshy intricacies of internal organs, causing a jolt of recognition in the viewer. I braced myself, believing I was staring into something primal, almost grotesque. I don't even understand why, though, I find this piece a little disgusting. The allure of skin, in theory, is all about boundaries—where self meets world—but Kraemer plays with this boundary so provocatively. Yet, Kraemer's material is far from what it appears to be. The work isn't made of guts, but rather crafted from non-organic materials (balsa wood, stockings, thread, and latex), skillfully shaped to mimic the look of flesh. Perception of rawness can be conjured without the reality of it. The beauty of this piece lies in its deception, in how it plays with our expectations, forcing us to confront our reaction to what merely appears real. As the artist herself says, its "like a repressed feeling that materializes in form of a growth or a tumor, for us to carry with us."

Then there is Chun Eun Mi's piece; one that feels like the complete opposite of Kraemer's yet struggles with synonymous questions. The necklace holds an elegance that feels synonymous with an untouchable and pure grace. But then there's the truth, the revelation of its material: cow intestines. Real, tangible flesh, refined and molded into something that seems so far removed from the body. You would never know unless you were told. And once you are, the work seems to shift before your eyes. It forces you to sit with it — this new duality of attraction and raw corporeality. Can beauty really stand alone?