After the Applause, 2025
Exhibition The Last Carnival at PS Center, Seoul
Metal fabrication: Noh Yongwon
Glass fabrication: Park Hyung-Jin, Kim Yeonjin
3D modeling: Oh Young Hoon
Sound: Donghoon Gang
Installation: Jo Jaehong
Support: Serin Oh, Nayoung Kang, Jiji Kim, Jaewon Kim, Park Eunseo, Soojin Choi, Momin Choi, Seungbeom Son, Chulho Yeom
Photo by CJYARTSTUDIO & Jiji Kim
Courtesy of PS Center, Seoul
The installation comprises broken and bent stand microphones—kneeling, bound to the stage as if alive, tangled in cables. These mics, no longer tools of speech, now serve as monuments of enforced silence and public shame. In front of the stage, fans’ discarded light sticks—once instruments of adoration—now rest like relics of a sacred riot. Their fanaticism, almost religious in nature, is as beautiful as it is aggressive. These remnants visualize the emptiness after ecstasy, the neglect after worship, the ruin that follows desire.
As viewers move beyond the debris and into the dim fencing of the concert zone, the space transforms—from a stage into a hellscape, then into an altar, and finally into a wailing wall. The sound piece, Bless This Mic (feat. Howl of the Crowd) (2025), blends cheers, screams, and sobs to capture the moment when euphoria turns to torment and punishment.
My idol persona appears in illustrated form, rendered in the visual style of erotic gay manga circulated on Twitter—wide-eyed, soft, and broken. He cries both onstage and off, wearing a microphone as a gag or waiting, submissively, for one to be inserted into his anus. This strategy of moe-fication intensifies the aesthetics of shame and sacrifice, exposing the paradoxical structure of pop culture, where sacred martyrdom and sexual consumption are equally desired.
After the Applause (2025) traverses religion, pop culture, queerness, politics, BDSM, and the subversion of power. It reveals how those placed on pedestals are endlessly offered up—praised one moment, destroyed the next.