[Not So Correct : Rebuilding with the Fragments of Memories] was motivated by a question my grandfather (1928-2022) asked, "Can you rebuild my hometown?”
How can I rebuild a place that remains in memory? Defining success of rebuilding is highly subjective as people value various elements in memory differently. Furthermore, verifying the result of rebuilding is difficult in the absence of the original author. Thus, the goal of this thesis is not to provide an universal criteria to evaluate rebuilding. Rather, it is to explore different approaches and elements that can be used to rebuild places in memory by recreating my grandfather’s hometown based on conversations I had with him.
I partially recreated his hometown’s landscape based on a story of the day he left his hometown. The day he left his house to avoid being drafted into the Korean War in 1952, but what was meant to be a 7-day hide-out ended up becoming a 75-year leave. I recreate his footprints, the spaces he stepped on and the landscape he saw, as if I were closely following him. I create key artifacts of that day by intertwining fragments of my grandfather’s memories, layering my interpretations of real data and anecdotal details from his recollection. The hypothetical world created through compilation of these artifacts, closely linked by a thread of imaginations and real memories, represents sentimental and physical qualities of the places that remain in his memory.
Although somewhat enigmatic and obscure, the recreation of my grandfather’s cherished hometown was my way of bidding farewell to my grandfather. The pieces of the scattered memories.. It just continues to hold its sway, even as memories appear fragmented and enveloped in a gentle haze.
* Awaiting any information about Maengsan County in Pyeongannam-do, North Korea in the 1950s.
* The stories are based on the author's architectural master's thesis, "Not So Correct: Rebuilding with the Fragments of Memories" (2022).