You Taste Like Fish

Miniture Artist Dongwook Lee

Death by Party | The Miniture New Human Speicies By Dongwook Lee

Vestigial to the second stage of puerility I’m living these days is that of the staid childhood proper which seemed to have transpired adulthoods ago. They say the two most august senses in keeping the hippocampus at full accreditation are the olfactory and the gustatory. This was most prevalent in my two causes for a culinary case: Happy Meals and king’s cake. For those of you unfamiliar with the latter, it’s but a circular pastry adorned with frosting, which sounds pretty prosaic.. but Lo- in sharing a commonality with the Mickey D’s ‘my first colonic’ play set, a trinket emerges! In this case, it was a shiny, tiny plastic naked infant burrowed somewhere inside said baked treat. Though its physiognomy was barely discernible, if one were to find such in their slice, the message was loud and clear. Upon discovering the visionary Dongwook Lee’s reworking of the human form, a long forgotten nerve was touched from my childhood. Hail to the King, baby.

The striking figurines of this New Human Species are naught less than resplendent in their scale of pedantic detail and equally as awe inspiring in their oppositely blunt provocation. Strip away the pretense of garb, makeup, and tremulous tresses brought on by a wind fan viewed in any W or GQ and our remainder is OMG. Our corpus in its fleshy and monochromatic beauty is quite malleable. This profundity is encapsulated in miniature form where we can be born into kings from princes, can be born into a lifelong bondage, and can eviscerate ourselves (which is not only congenital to artists but also any bleeting hurt.. sorry, typo, heart) for not meeting our yet-goal. On the other hand, these waxy mini-peoples are a salve on what we already think of ourselves. We’re not alone in our naked wants and needs, dissolving metaphorical clothes to show everyone that we still have some skin in the game. Hatcheting away the finery, we are all the same- an ugly, cloying, beautiful mound of Play-Doh, with minds to match.. not unlike that dumb Christ baby I nearly choked on.

Where were you in your childhood? Did a waxy, biting tangible fancy ever hinder your chomping into a happy deal, thus arousing a steadfast stasis within the want of a nondescript life culminating in a toy at the end? I’m most assured it didn’t. We all want the coronation of kings and queens in this ever evolving, breathing world… but we’re all knocked down a peg when surveying Lee’s moratorium of ‘realness’, pullulating a silliness and a sadness alike. There exists a greater life beyond us and those lilliputians are greater than we can ever hope to be. Dongwook makes assured that we are not that special snowflake. We are paternally in patternicity. What you thought was a prize in your fast food meal or religious cake was naught but a mere totem. Your form could always be changed with but a petri dish and a genius. My article started off with the twilight of childhood, but now, we’re on Dongwook Lee’s watch.. and on the dawn of a Childhood’s End.

By Robert Kijowski

Tags: , , , , ,

Leave a Reply