You Hong-june’s calligraphy error raises questions of accountability (KOR)

Ko Jung-ae

The author is the editor-in-chief at the JoongAng Sunday. 

What made me decide to write about You Hong-june, director of the National Museum of Korea, was a single word he used: bulchal, meaning a failure to exercise due care or judgment. You said he was “remorseful and ashamed” over the National Museum of Korea’s decision to display a piece of calligraphy from his personal collection as the work of a patriotic independence activist, only to withdraw it later. He described the episode as “a serious mistake and a failure of judgment as an art historian.”

Adding the word “serious” does not change the meaning of bulchal. The word means failing to properly examine or scrutinize something that one ought to have examined. But was this merely a matter of failing to look closely enough?

In brief, You bought the calligraphy — Ilban Sigugeun — for 50,000 won ($37) in 2019 after it had been put up for a bargain-basement auction at 10,000 won. He recommended two pieces from his personal collection for a special exhibition that had been planned since the tenure of his predecessor and was held this May. One of them was the calligraphy. He listed its insurance valuation at 300,000 won and wrote “You Hong-june, acting as a proxy,” making it appear as though he were submitting the work on behalf of its owner. After it was determined that the work was by a pro-Japanese collaborator, he apologized four times, saying, “The museum fell short in fulfilling its basic responsibilities. It was a lack of institutional capacity and a mistake.”

It was not until the National Assembly’s parliamentary audit on Monday, after the entire sequence of events had come to light, that You finally bowed his head. Asked why he had not disclosed that the work was from his own collection, he said he had been “ashamed and hoped people would just let it pass.” After all, this was how he had dealt with controversies in the past. Did he think it would work again this time, given that he remains a powerful figure in the cultural world?

At this point, it is worth considering what an exhibition at a museum actually means. A somewhat extreme example is the Salvator Mundi. In 2005, a group of people purchased the painting after determining that it might be a work by Leonardo da Vinci. After carefully restoring it, they showed it to experts, among them Nicholas Penny, then director of the National Gallery in London. Penny had the painting brought to London so that it could be directly compared with the National Gallery’s The Virgin of the Rocks, and he assembled a group of experts. Martin Kemp, a professor at the University of Oxford, was one of them. In a 2019 interview, Kemp recalled:

“When I went into the room, there were three Leonardo specialists and others. As soon as I saw the painting, I could tell that there was something different about it. We absolutely could not afford to get excited. Too much was at stake depending on whether or not it was a Leonardo. There was an enormous amount of money at stake, and our reputations as experts were at stake. I thought we must not trust our instincts. We should use every method at our disposal, including scientific analysis and art-historical research. We asked every possible question. Only after the painting had withstood every test and every counterargument did we finally come to the conclusion that it might actually be a work by Leonardo.”

The National Gallery included the painting in its 2011 Leonardo exhibition, identifying it as a Leonardo “autograph” work. The painting was subsequently sold for the astronomical sum of $450 million. Although controversy over whether it was truly a Leonardo continued, Kemp said that “the exhibition after verification gave the work enormous credibility and authority.”

You must know this mechanism well. That is presumably why he has quoted the words of the Joseon-era master Kim Jeong-hui, better known as Chusa, saying that appreciating calligraphy and painting requires “eyes as discerning and fearsome as the Vajra Guardians and the meticulous touch of a harsh tax collector.”

As director, however, he did not act accordingly. The work was exhibited without adequate verification. You has said that he stood to gain no private benefit because he intended to donate it. But does that mean he would have been equally comfortable with the calligraphy being preserved at another museum as the work of a patriotic independence activist? There is also something misleading about saying there was no benefit. Perhaps there was no monetary gain, but he could have gained the honor of having “discovered a patriotic independence activist’s calligraphy that had been sold off at a bargain price, exhibited it at the National Museum of Korea, and then donated it.”

On Monday, You declined to answer when asked whether he would resign. I agree with an acquaintance who said, “It must be because of the cheap calculation that all he has to do is survive today, the day of the parliamentary audit. What responsibility can he possibly fulfill while clinging to his position?”

The irony is that the calligraphy has now acquired the “value” to be exhibited.

The misjudgment of You Hong-june, a figure wielding cultural power, and the failure of the National Museum of Korea, under his leadership, to properly verify the work have given the calligraphy of a pro-Japanese collaborator a new historical context.

유홍준 소장품, 전시할 가치를 얻었다

고정애 중앙SUNDAY 편집국장

국립중앙박물관장 유홍준에 대해 쓰기로 마음먹은 건 그가 쓴 ‘불찰(不察)’이란 단어 때문이다. 그는 국립중앙박물관(국중박)이 자신의 소장품인 친일파의 글씨를 애국지사의 유묵으로 전시했다가 철회한 건을 두고 “뉘우치고 부끄럽다”면서 “미술사학자로서 중대한 착오이자 불찰”이었다고 했다.

 ‘중대한’을 붙인들 불찰의 의미가 달라지는 건 아니다. 마땅히 살펴야 할 일(察)을 제대로 살피지 못했다(不)는 의미다. 그저 못 살핀 것뿐인가.

 요약하면 그는 2019년 땡처리 옥션에 1만원에 나온 유묵(‘일반시국은(一飯是國恩)’)을 5만원에 샀다. 전임 관장 시절부터 기획된 특별전에 올 5월 자신의 소장품 2점을 추천했다. 하나가 유묵이었다. 보험평가액으로 30만원을 적었고 대신 내는 양 ‘代(대)유홍준’이라고 적었다. 친일파의 작품으로 결론난 다음에 네 차례 사과했는데 “박물관이 기본적 책무에서 미흡했다. 박물과 역량의 부족이자 실수”라고 했다.

 일련의 과정이 모두 드러난 뒤인 19일 국감장에서야 그는 고개를 숙였다. 자신의 소장품이라 밝히지 않은 걸 두곤 “부끄러워 그냥 지나가줬으면 하는“ 생각이었다고 했다. 하기야 그는 이전 논란도 그런 식으로 대했었다. 여전히 문화권력이니 이번에도 통할 거라고 봤을까.

 이쯤에서 박물관에서의 전시가 어떤 의미인지 살펴볼 필요가 있겠다. 좀 극단적 사례지만 ‘살바토르 문디’다. 2005년 일군의 사람들이 레오나르도 다빈치의 작품일 가능성을 보고 구매했다. 이후 조심스럽게 복원한 뒤 전문가들에게 보여줬다. 이 중엔 내셔널갤러리의 니콜라스 페니 관장도 있다. 페니는 내셔널갤러리 소장품인 ‘암굴의 성모’와 직접 비교를 위해 그림을 런던으로 옮겼고 전문가들을 불렀다. 옥스퍼드대 교수 마틴 켐프도 한 명이었다. 2019년 인터뷰에서 켐프는 이렇게 말했다.

 “방에 들어갔을 때 다른 레오나르도 전문가 세 명 등이 있었다. 그림을 보자마자 뭔가 다르다는 것을 알 수 있었다. 절대 흥분해선 안 됐다. 레오나르도의 작품인지 아닌지에 따라 걸린 것이 너무나 많기 때문이다. 엄청난 돈이 걸렸고 전문가로서 명성이 걸렸다. 직감을 믿지 말자고 생각했다. 과학적 분석과 미술사적 연구를 비롯해 우리가 동원할 수 있는 모든 방법을 동원하자고 했다. 가능한 모든 질문을 던졌다. 그렇게 모든 검증과 반론을 견뎌낸 뒤에야 비로소 이 작품은 실제로 레오나르도의 작품일 수 있겠다는 생각에 이르게 됐다.”

 내셔널갤러리는 2011년 레오나르도 특별전에 이 작품을 포함했고, 레오나르도 ‘작품(autograph)’으로 표기했다. 이후 그림은 천문학적 금액(4억5000만 달러)에 팔려나갔다. 여전히 레오나르도 작품이 맞냐는 논란이 있었지만 켐프는 “검증 후 전시는 작품에 엄청난 신뢰성과 권위를 부여했다”고 말했다.

 유 관장도 이런 메커니즘을 잘 알 것이다. 그러니 추사 김정희의 말을 인용, 서화를 감상하는데 “금강역사 같은 무서운 눈(金剛眼)과 혹독한 세리의 손끝(酷吏手) 같은 치밀함이 있어야 한다”고 말해 왔을 것이다.

 관장으로서 그는 그러지 않았다. 검증이 미비한 채 전시했다. 그는 사적 이익을 얻을 게 없다고 했다. 기증할 거니까. 그렇다면 그 글씨가 애국지사의 유묵으로 다른 박물관에 보관돼도 좋다는 말인가. 이익이 없다는 말도 어폐가 있다. 금전적으론 몰라도 ‘땡처리된 애국지사의 유묵을 발견해 국립중앙박물관에 전시했고 그걸 기증했다’는 명예를 얻을 뻔했다.

 19일 그는 사퇴하겠냐는 질문에 답하지 않았다. 한 지인은 “오늘 하루(국감일)만 버티면 된다는 싸구려 판단 때문이겠지. 자리를 지키면서 무슨 책임을 다하겠다는 것일까”라고 했던 데 동의한다.

 아이러니한 건 해당 글씨가 이젠 전시할 ‘가치’를 얻었다는 점이다. 유홍준이라는 문화권력의 오판과 그가 관장인 국립중앙박물관의 검증 실패가 친일파의 글씨에 새로운 역사적 맥락을 부여했다.