The Magic Flute No. 8

The paintings of Younghee Choi Martin bring a refreshing frisson of drama to the contemporary scene. They are like slices of grand opera. The stories they tell are tragic and sensual: scenes of violence and lamentation, or sunlit, watery reveries. Legends are the templates from which her images, over months of revision and many layers of paint, come excitingly to life.

The Magic Flute inspired one series; Salome another. Eliot’s The Waste Land preoccupied her for years—a characteristic choice, with its blend of myth and modernity and its echoes of Tristan. Today she is mining the Aeneid. There is something akin to the music of Berlioz in her method: the startling gestures and colors, underpinned by classical discipline, and the ancient tales thereby made new. The Aeneid obsessed Berlioz too.

Younghee is a voyager between far-off lands, a New Yorker from Korea whose quest led to Rome; an artist from the 20th century who yearned for the full-blooded drama of past epochs. As a child in Korea she learned still-life painting and calligraphy. In Italy, Michelangelo and Raphael became lasting influences. The two peninsulas are alike, by the way, in their long, tragic histories, strong emotions and flavors, and zest for musical theater.

East and West, classical and cubist, Poussin and Cezanne: there are many facets to this original artist. Beyond scenarios and comparisons, however, is her mastery of color and form. You don’t have to know the plot of an opera to love the music, though it sounds even better if you do.

– Val Schaffner