A lot can happen in 30 years. From 1980 to the present day, South Korea has lived through massive street protests, six presidents, beef import boycotts, a department store collapse and, most recently, one of the largest peace-time casualty lists recorded on the sunken Navy ship Cheonan.

Art has matured with the changing of the times, serving both as a historian and as a catalyst for new thought. Through June 6, the National Museum of Contemporary Art is offering a look at the timeline of Korea since 1980 through the eyes of the country's young artists.

The 30th Anniversary of the Young Korean Artists is comprised of selected works by previously showcased ``youngsters'' (under 35-years-old) in the biennial exhibition of the same name. Featuring projects from 43 artists spanning the past three decades, it delivers a range of work from the young and the old, who all embed a vital piece of the Korean psyche within their art.

Separated into two galleries, the pieces are organized chronologically from the 1980s and the 1990s to the present day. Seo Seong-rok, chairman of the Korean Association of Art Critics, related the importance of the time range by quoting Henri Bergson, a French philosopher.

Bergson once said that a man lives ``the continuous life of memory which extends the past within the present.''

The comprehensive overview allows visitors to see what influence the political atmosphere, technological advances and progressing societal mores had on the art world. While the artists representing the 1980s reflect a sense of solidarity and nationalism, the latter half's more contemporary minds tackle themes of isolation, materialism and confrontation.



Oh Sang-gil, in an untitled work, draws a massive circle made up of brick grounds and salt, creating a textured effect that looks like sand. The outer edge is lined with various daily food remnants, from twigs to fish heads and duck bones. Everything is colored in a deep, royal blue pigment.

This theme of daily necessities ― or, perhaps, banalities ― is seen throughout the first section's other works, offering a sense of comfort in the items on display.

Arguably the most memorable piece is Rhee Ki-bong's ``Extra Ordinary Late Summer.'' The installation provides the first sound that reaches visitors' ears once inside the gallery, though it is in the middle of the first section. Once reached, viewers stand outside a room that appears to be separated from the rest of the museum by a raised threshold. A wooden desk is seen suspended several inches from the floor, with an open encyclopedia lying flat on top. The aural experience comes from the water that falls inside the room ― like a simulated summer shower ― against the backdrop of the sea-green walls. This creates a cool breeze that is simultaneously nostalgic and heart-breaking.

In the second half of the exhibition, concepts lean toward the technical. Photograph collages depict naked men and women, while digital effects are rendered to create a short film of a hand resting on pink bubbles being blown. The video concludes with a loud pop that echoes through the spacious halls.

``Garden'' by Kwon Kyung-hwan is a candid satire on the modern public's distance from home life and nature. A group of potted plants is towered over by arcs of flashing neon lights of the kind seen on buildings late at night.

The exhibition offers a unique look into the evolution of the artists' minds as impacted by the fast-moving landscape of modern Korea ― it makes one look forward to what is to come.