“Individuality: Where Nameless Colors Gather”
Exhibit by Gwangju Arts Middle School Students
Asia Culture Center Bamboo Garden
Gwangju, South Korea
April 15, 2026
(Jisu Sheen recently moved from New Haven to Gwangju, South Korea, where she’s covering local arts and culture for the New Haven Independent and Midbrow.)
A family of ants staying in an indoor bamboo garden inside a library saw something strange Wednesday night: a large creature with a reporter’s notebook and camera. (The ants had their own camera, tucked away in one of their many underground rooms.)
The creature had a weirdly stretched-out figure and only two legs. Could it be?—yes, it definitely was—a member of the species called human.
In fact, it seemed the human had come specifically to see the painted ants and their neighbors, including a rabbit, a dog, a kettle, and more, all artworks in an exhibit at Gwangju’s Asia Culture Center featuring student artists from publicly funded art school Gwangju Arts Middle School (광주예술중학교). The exhibit runs through April 23, followed by an exhibit of work by Gwangju Arts High School students from May 2 to 21.
The ants watched as the human studied their neighbors one by one, along with gallery attendant and fellow human 서은지 (Seo Eun-Jee). The two were doing something called “jobs”; the reporter was reporting, and the attendant was attending.
The reporter’s camera dangled from her neck. Why didn’t these humans keep their supplies in connected rooms beneath the soil’s surface, like the ants? There, they could build as many rooms as they wanted. The ants had a camera room, a painting room, a crystal room, a music room, a glasses room, and even an underwater room.
A few artworks over, a dog was watching the scene unfold. The reporter had a normal-looking face like the dog’s, but her body was gangly and distorted. It was a bit scary, to be honest.
The reporter was good at following the rules—just like the dog. She asked multiple times before taking pictures. If someone had said, “No!” she probably would have listened. Humans think they are so different from their canine counterparts, but it’s only this belief that sets them apart.
The dog stared ahead, panting, ready for the next instruction.
To the dog’s right-hand side was a many-spouted kettle of glossy clay layers. It observed from its various peepholes as the reporter took notes.
Humans have a storied relationship with kettles, but they tend to choose only the ones with one spout and one handle. When they pour, the water goes in one direction. The reporter probably had a single-minded kettle like that at home.
Sure, having just one spout is convenient, but is that the way life works? The cephalopod-like kettle belonged with someone who could handle unpredictability, even when it’s unwelcome.
Perhaps this kettle would get along better with the middle school artists, who, despite being human, seemed quite reasonable compared to the adults.
At the entrance of the gallery, a pair of fish glistened in a cellophane and wire teardrop cage. Humans might despair in this situation, but the fish kept swimming. It’s what they were born to do. They found a way to be beautiful for themselves, with no thought to who might be watching.
Humans, on the other hand, seemed preoccupied with watching. At least that’s what came through in the art. The students’ artworks depicting people often abstracted them as a mass of judgmental eyes or manipulating hands. Even in a field that prizes individuality, the student artists were ever-aware of the societal machinery they’re stepping into.
A pink rabbit near the end of the bamboo-lined exhibition hall knew the feeling firsthand.
She was frozen in time the night before a big exhibition, and she had put on a face mask at night to prepare. She tried her best to go to bed early amidst the nerves and excitement. Her dedication to her own personal routine, along with the collection of cute objects in her room, seemed to show a resolve to do things her own way.
The rabbit, the ants, and all other sentient and non-sentient creatures of the Gwangju Arts Middle School exhibition waited for the gallery to close so the humans would have to leave (the reporter, having chatted too much, ran out with three minutes to spare).
Then they were alone again, free to gossip with the bamboo about all the strange sights they saw that day.
