Jiyoung Chung is fascinated by relationships. She has used hundreds of yards of yarn and hundreds of rusty nails to communicate connections between people, nature and God in her installation exhibits. However, it is her relationship to the 500-year-old traditional method of Korean papermaking called joomchi that has become her current passion and her mission.

She's not big on shortcuts: Each sheet of joomchi can take a month to make. This may not be evident in the 28 multi-layered paper paintings in her "Whisper Romance III" exhibit in the upstairs gallery of the Academy Art Center. Nevertheless, it is a groundbreaking look at how a contemporary vision and an ancient technique can come together in ventilated, colorful layers of fibrous paper and become a spirited 3-D tour de force.

Joomchi is the Kobe beef of papermaking — without the beer. It is a time-consuming and intensely active process of agitating or fusing multiple layers of hanji (Korean mulberry paper) without the use of fixatives — unless you consider massaging 12 pieces of water-spritzed paper together for upwards of 20 hours a "fixative."

It seemed more like a sedative to the 19 students who enrolled in her "Color Joomchi Papermaking" class at the Academy Art Center in August. "Isn't there a machine to do this?" many asked.

Her students may want immediate gratification, but the Korean-born Chung does not. She knows, after much experimentation and innovation, that it is the length of time and the attention to the massaging process that produces the amazing results she achieves. And reviving this ancient technique has given her incredible upper body, hand, foot and calf strength, as well as perseverance.

After arriving in the United States to study art in 1999, she graduated from the Rhode Island School of Design with honors, awards and a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree. She continued studying, receiving more honors and her Master of Fine Arts degree at the Cranbrook Academy of Art.

Chung has had 15 solo exhibits and participated in 35 group shows in the United States and Europe. She has been an artist in residence in Vermont and Minnesota and has had her work published in art and fiber magazines. The Museum of Art & Design in New York has her work in their permanent collection. To her credit, she was chosen as one of three other paper artists (from a pool of 1,500) to sell her work at the 2006 Philadelphia Museum of Art Craft Show with 195 major craft artists. She is exhibiting in France as well as Honolulu.

I caught up with her after her class to find out more about her joomchi mission.

Q. What was joomchi initially used for in Korea?

A. In ancient times, fabric was really expensive. They had to plant the seeds, care for the plants and spin the flax fibers into the thread they used to weave the fabric. Hanji, made from the bark of the mulberry tree, was plentiful, could be used to make clothing, and took less time to make. It is also good for 3-D sculptural work and it can be used for practical household objects-baskets, gift wrap, etc.

Q. But is it as durable as clothing?

A. Yes, because Koreans use up to 20 layers of hanji to make one piece. They also coat it with lacquer and waterproof it with yellow bean extract. Even divers used to wear it. It is very durable.

Q. You have somehow changed the traditional method. How?

A. I combined a few other textile techniques — such as folding and collaging — to give it unique qualities. In this way, it can be used to create surface designs for one-of-a-kind paper paintings. Since this technique doesn't require any chemical or glue to harm the paper it preserves the outcome of the work better. It is very low-tech papermaking and can be done anywhere. It doesn't matter if someone is experienced or not. It's not about how much experience one has; it's about how much love they have for the paper. It requires a long agitating process so it requires perseverance.

Q. And how long is the agitating process?

A. Usually, I agitate from four hours, for a small piece, to a week. Multi-layers up to 20 layers (like many of the pieces in my exhibit here) require agitating for a week, more than eight hours a day, working with it the whole time. Sometimes I use my feet to agitate the larger pieces. Many of these pieces are multiple multi-layered works with additional embellishments such as paper threads. The more holes in a piece, the harder it is because I don't want them to break in the process.

Q. Your class complained about the monotony of agitating a small piece of joomchi. Is it monotonous for you?

A. The reason that I love this paper is that I can touch it and through my hand motion it changes. It changes in color, texture and appearance. It's not only about looking at it — it's more about touching it and really using all the senses.

Q. Do you think that because it's so hands-on that your attitude can change it as well?

A. Certainly, you are putting your own soul into the work. So, if you are in a hurry the outcome shows that you are worried and in a hurry. When I don't like some of my work, that is why, because I rushed and it shows it. The image can be shifted and some parts won't be combined as well.

Q. "Whisper Romance III" is obviously a series. How did it originate?

A. I love to walk around graveyards and read what people say about the people buried there. I wondered what I would want on my gravestone. And it would be, "She was beloved by God and she is a human whisperer."

Q. What are human whisperers?

A. We have horse whisperers and dog whisperers but we need human whisperers, too. They would help us understand why we're born, what we have to live for and how precious and important we are. There is also the joy of living life to the fullest — enjoying every moment. To me, we have to know what we are here for to enjoy every moment. I really hope my work speaks about it better than I can. I know I will be developing this idea until I die.

Q. Are the holes in your work the "whispers"?

A. I grew up looking at my mom's pojagi work (her mother Chunghie Lee's work is on exhibit downstairs in "Tattered Cultures: Mended Histories") and to me it wasn't special because I didn't know the value of traditional techniques. However, people are constantly gathering to learn her technique. The more I looked at it, the more I paid attention to the part that had been sewn together — not the part that was beautifully printed, the texture or the bright colors. The needles had punctured the fabric that had been sewed together. It had to be broken down, with the needles, to become much better as a whole. The holes grabbed my attention. I make them bigger, in my work, for the air, for whispers. Hopefully, through our hurts, the punctures, we can interweave our stories, the connections, for healing. ...

Q. What's been your experience of teaching joomchi to U.S. students?

A. It's been very interesting because this tradition has been disappearing in Korea. When I talk about this technique among Koreans they don't even know what I'm talking about — because they're not from that generation. Since fabric is less expensive and easier to get today, this tradition began to disappear. When I teach joomchi as a form of art, it is taken seriously. I've watched my students' work blossom, and that is my reward for sharing it.

Q. Do you find that there is a difference between the students studying it in Korea and your American students?

A. I haven't had the chance to teach in Korea. It's not a familiar field and they don't, at this point, appreciate that it is a dying tradition. So that is why I'm trying to bring American joomchi to the Korean Biennale show. I would like them to recognize the beauty of it and treasure it as well. One of the reasons I've been developing this technique is because I want it to last longer. I want to give it the respect it deserves.