• website under construction
  • WON CHA
  • our bone s milk coal
  • mal assimilation
  • then wear, does our mind go?
  • I don't care how heavy the baby is
  • I am the sun
  • 100 year mountain
  • how do you un see light?
  • fuku speak
  • statement
  • bio
  • cv
  • wonodukcha gmail.com
website under construction
WON CHA
our bone s milk coal
mal assimilation
then wear, does our mind go?
I don't care how heavy the baby is
I am the sun
100 year mountain
how do you un see light?
fuku speak
statement
bio
cv
wonodukcha gmail.com

For a period of 6 months, I engaged a largely unknown history of over 8,000 migrant Korean laborers brought to the Ruhr Valley by German mining corporations from South Korea (1960-1980). I visited the Bergbau-Bucherei and Bochum mining archives, the only repositories of archival materials of this time, to seek tangible traces of the Korean laborers and their families within troves of administrative documents from the mining corporations.  I realized the 8,000 Korean people were systemically processed as units of labor identified only by serial numbers. Evidence of their existence as individuals with hopes and desires were purposefully kept in the shadows in order to continue generating profit, bypassing German labor unions. By navigating what the archives withheld and refused, I began creating works, drawing out forms encountered in the archives and weaving recorded familial stories of survival and love in post-war Korea. The installation was created as a site for what was refused by the archive. My desire was to create a site that would give peace to an institutionalized history of dehumanization and exploitation while bringing life to a continuity of silence. 

For a period of 6 months, I engaged a largely unknown history of over 8,000 migrant Korean laborers brought to the Ruhr Valley by German mining corporations from South Korea (1960-1980). I visited the Bergbau-Bucherei and Bochum mining archives, the only repositories of archival materials of this time, to seek tangible traces of the Korean laborers and their families within troves of administrative documents from the mining corporations.  I realized the 8,000 Korean people were systemically processed as units of labor identified only by serial numbers. Evidence of their existence as individuals with hopes and desires were purposefully kept in the shadows in order to continue generating profit, bypassing German labor unions. By navigating what the archives withheld and refused, I began creating works, drawing out forms encountered in the archives and weaving recorded familial stories of survival and love in post-war Korea. The installation was created as a site for what was refused by the archive. My desire was to create a site that would give peace to an institutionalized history of dehumanization and exploitation while bringing life to a continuity of silence.