PD100 camcorder
The VegetarianThe PD100 camcorder is the recording device the artist uses to film his floral paintings on Yeong-hye and, later, the intimate images he makes with her. At first it appears as one element in a carefully prepared artistic setup; by the next day, the removed 6mm tape and the camcorder left open beneath a table have made the hidden recording available to his wife. The device’s decisive function is therefore not only to preserve images, but to carry them beyond the private scene and expose what its maker had kept from his family.
Preparation and Artistic Use
Before meeting Yeong-hye at M’s studio, the artist checks the camcorder’s batteries alongside arranging paints and lighting for a long filming session. The preparations make the recording part of his plan from the outset: he has imagined the setting, arranged the equipment, and is waiting for her arrival. The camcorder is not incidental documentation but a tool around which he organizes the encounter.
At the studio, he fixes the device to a tripod and adjusts its height until Yeong-hye’s prone body fills the frame. He then paints flowers and stems across her back and down her leg, leaving the Mongolian mark uncovered and tinting the surrounding skin so that the mark remains visible. After completing the painting, he removes the camera from the tripod and films close views of the flowers, her neck, her hair, her hands, and the marked area before capturing her whole body. The sequence distinguishes the fixed, composed view from the later close-up recording: the camcorder lets him frame both the painted design and the bodily detail that gives it its particular significance.
From Image-Making to Intimacy
The device returns when the artist sets up equipment at home. He places the camcorder on a low tripod, arranges the mattress and white sheet on the veranda, and adjusts the camera as he and Yeong-hye change position. He checks the image on the exterior monitor and continues filming. The apparatus extends his earlier studio practice into a more intimate situation, making his drawings and imagined floral forms into images staged with real bodies.
For the artist, the recording promises a sustained visual composition: the bodies seem to him to merge into a plant, animal, and human form. Yet the camera’s capacity to preserve the scene also gives the images a life beyond the moment he controls. He switches it off at the end of the encounter, but the recording remains on the 6mm tape. The device can stop filming; it cannot ensure that the resulting images remain private.
Discovery and Consequences
The following day, the artist looks for the camcorder among the equipment he is packing away and cannot find it. In the kitchen, he notices the 6mm tape on the floor, then sees the camcorder upside down beneath the table with its deck open. His wife is sitting at the table. She explains that she came to check on Yeong-hye, entered because the door was open, and found the painted woman and a man she did not initially recognize. Seeing the camcorder by the door, she rewound the tape and recognized her husband in the recording.
The camera thus changes hands in practical effect even though the account does not describe the wife taking possession of it: she uses the recording it contains to understand what she has witnessed. Her discovery transforms the camcorder from an instrument of the artist’s private authorship into evidence of his concealed conduct. The scene also gives the equipment a sharply different perspective: what the artist had arranged to produce a compelling image becomes, for his wife, a means of identifying him and confronting the breach in their marriage.
Narrative and Thematic Significance
The camcorder links composition, control, and exposure. The artist repeatedly adjusts its position so that bodies fit his desired frame, first in the studio and then on the veranda. But the recording is not contained by that framing: the tape is separated from the device, the device is found beneath the table, and the wife views what he made. The physical objects make the passage from secret act to knowledge concrete, without requiring the artist’s intentions to determine how the images will be received.
The camcorder also marks a limit in the artist’s control over his own work. He can set the camera, direct the scene, and switch off the recording, but he cannot dictate who will discover the tape or what its images will disclose. Its importance lies in this reversal: equipment assembled to make and preserve an image becomes the means by which the hidden relationship is exposed.