On the 3rd, two major pieces of news arrived almost simultaneously within the cultural sector. Two days before the opening of the Gwangju Biennale, China announced its withdrawal from the pavilion due to the "Taiwan Pavilion" issue. The government also released a plan for reforming public institutional investors under the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism, consolidating 18 such entities into seven. At the top of the consolidated list is the Arts Management Support Center.
The Arts Management Support Center is one of the co-organizers of the "2026 Korea Art Festival" currently being held nationwide. The Gwangju Biennale serves as the flagship program of this festival. While an international event on one side escalated into a diplomatic conflict, another side declared consolidation of administrative functions.
The "Taiwan Pavilion" incident is not simple, but there are key points that must be addressed. The Taiwan Ministry of Culture stated that it has consistently protested since June over the use of the abbreviation "NTMoFA" for the exhibition hall name "National Taiwan Museum of Fine Arts." The Biennale side countered that it categorized pavilions as national or institutional based on participation type and argued that administrative disagreements should not be interpreted as censorship. Ultimately, a decision was made to use the term "Taiwan Pavilion," which led to China's protest and subsequent withdrawal.
It took three months for this global art event to reach a conclusion even after touching diplomatic landmines, and it appears to have been rushed just before the opening. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs clarified that the matter was handled through private judgment without any connection to the government's position. This is not incorrect. The Biennale is an event organized by the private sector, and artistic autonomy must be preserved. However, for autonomy to function effectively, there must be guiding principles for decision-making.
This incident reveals a void in our society. There are no guidelines on naming conventions, no channels to review diplomatic issues in advance, and no clear accountability for delayed decisions. The ripple effects are growing. The delegation from Guangzhou City In Min (CEO) canceled its visit to Gwangju, South Jeolla Province. While the issue of whether it is a nation or an institution escalated into a diplomatic conflict, did everyone simply stand back and leave it to practitioners to decide?
The new organizational structure under the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism is reportedly being consolidated into entities such as the Korea Arts & Culture Industry Promotion Agency, the Korean Traditional Music Industry Promotion Agency, and the Korea Culture Promotion Agency. The diagnosis is that similar or overlapping functions are scattered across multiple institutions, leading to inefficiency. It is difficult to deny this assessment itself. As the number of institutional investors has increased, support windows have become labyrinthine, and projects with similar names have been repeated by shifting between institutions. This is an experience shared by all in the cultural arts field.
However, it is problematic that the newly formed organizations are named in a biased manner such as "Cultural Arts Industry," "Traditional Music Culture Industry," or "Korea Culture." Since culture encompasses ecosystems including daily life, art, media, industry, technology, and diplomacy, how these elements are combined is crucial. The names of organizations serve as symbols that set direction. If consolidation is justified by similarity and redundancy, the only remaining category would be the overarching term "culture." In that case, a single entity would suffice.
Assets not reflected in organizational charts are even more important. Who should a curator contact? Which art fair is favorable to galleries? How can negotiations with overseas museums be conducted without diplomatic friction?... Such knowledge and experience ultimately stem from people. These assets are the first to disappear when staffing levels are adjusted and personnel change during consolidation. The recent "Taiwan Pavilion" issue also originated from this void in sensibility.
The Biennale representative expressed regret over China's withdrawal at a pre-opening meeting and pledged to improve operational practices that distinguish between nations and institutions. This is appropriate. However, designing systems, establishing principles applicable to multiple events such as the Busan and Jeju Biennales, and opening consultation channels with diplomatic authorities must be assigned as specific responsibilities. The organization tasked with these duties has been placed on the consolidated list and is now preoccupied with its own future.
This does not mean that cultural administration reform is unnecessary. On the contrary, reform should proceed in a direction that allows the cultural ecosystem to circulate positively. The names of new organizations still exclude everyday culture, and culture, art, and industry remain entangled. While the scale of consolidated institutions may grow, the direction of our cultural arts could become even more ambiguous. In September's Gwangju, we witnessed a void in judgment. Now, we must ask whether reform is being designed to fill that void.
