1975, is composed of obfuscated layers of pigment that create varying degrees of darkness (昀椀g. 46). When looking at the thinned and layered paint, the visible brushstrokes, the blurred lines, and the weave of the linen in the unpainted areas, it is as if one has zoomed in very close to a section of an ink painting to examine the interactions between the paint and its substrate. But Yun was not attempting to mimic ink painting with oil and linen; rather, he was fascinated by the intimate interplay of materials. Yun visualizes time and accident in Umber Blue by harnessing the di昀昀erences in solubility and viscosity of paint and turpentine as well as the variability of spread- ing and absorption.�� While he can determine where and when to layer the paint, the resultant hues and perme- ations are dependent on the concentration of the paint mixture and the degree of wetness of previous layers. By allowing absorption to play a role equal to application, Yun challenges the primacy of mark making that is intrinsically linked to ink painting. In painting the edges and placing the unmarked area in the center, he draws the eye to the texture of the linen support and to the areas where the paint and linen meet. The thin strips of paint at the top and bottom give the unpainted center a discrete shape even while the painted areas conform to the structure of the support and look as if they could extend beyond it. In this way, Yun counters ideas about emptiness or the void, concepts that o昀琀en conjure up a notion of “Asian” spirituality or philosophy for non- Asian audiences.�� Though an interest in the formal qualities of line appears to be central to the work of Kwon Young- woo, the artist complicates the standards and conceptions of mark making and gestural abstraction by interrogating the methods of ink painting.�� In postwar Korea, the choice of medium carried with it an existential weight, bound up in larger issues of identity and nationalism. Selecting ink painting versus oil painting signaled a di昀昀erent cultural path linked to broader issues of “Oriental” versus “Western,” which had other pejorative implications, including underdeveloped versus progressive and insular versus cosmopolitan.�� Trained as an ink painter, Kwon radically engaged with paper in the 1960s, directing his attention to hanji (literally, “Korean paper”) and exploring its potential for three- dimensional transformation as a way to refute the privileged status of painting over all other forms of art and its strict distinction from sculpture. Paper, as one of the Three Friends of the Scholar, is revered as an indispensable component of ink painting and calligraphy but usually as a support for ink and brush. By tearing, pasting, and molding, Kwon extricated paper from its substrate role and brought it to the forefront. During the 1980s, while living in Paris, Kwon reen- gaged with ink and color while still drawing attention to 43