Spring Dawn at Mt. Baegak

An Jung-sik, one of the last painters under the Royal Bureau of Painting, who lived from 1861 to 1919, was born in Seoul. He trained under the celebrated painter Jang Seung-eop before being chosen at the age of twenty to join a Joseon diplomatic mission to Qing China as a draughtsman. He traveled alongside Jo Seok-jin and spent about a year in Tianjin studying mechanical drawing. Upon returning to Korea, he helped produce portraits of Emperor Gojong and the crown prince and held a few government posts. He is also deeply remembered as a teacher who opened Korea’s first modern art school in 1911, the Gyeongseong School of Calligraphy and Painting. In 1918, he further helped organize the Association of Painting and Writing Artists, which Jo Seok-jin eventually led after An’s death. His painting Spring Dawn at Mt. Baegak was completed in the summer of 1915 using ink and light colors on silk. An actually made a second version for fall that same year, and because the two are so remarkably similar in composition, they can be seen as a pair. The painting shows Mt. Baegak rising behind Gyeongbokgung Palace and Gwanghwamun Gate, with mist heavily covering parts of the palace buildings. One of the most notable artistic choices is the wide street in front of the gate, which An left completely empty of buildings and people, even though photographs from the period clearly show it lined with government offices and bustling with crowds. In the fall version, the fog is even heavier, completely hiding one of the stone 'haetae' guardians. The specific date of the painting helps explain this deliberate emptiness. By 1915, Japan’s colonial government had removed much of Gyeongbokgung palace and was using the grounds for a large exhibition. An chose to paint the palace as he imagined it in the Joseon era rather than its actual image. The title also echoes a Tang dynasty poem titled 'Chunxiao' or 'Spring Dawn' by Meng Haoran, through which the painting can be read as a profound expression of loss and a quiet hope that Korea’s “spring” would return, though it is important to note that this is a scholarly interpretation rather than something An stated himself. The pair is now held by the National Museum of Korea as Registered Cultural Property, standing as a lasting testament to an artist who, facing the erasure of his country's sovereignty, left behind a powerful record of what was lost and a lingering hope for what might return.