[An Essay from My Heart]

Reading Choi Rip’s Artistic World through Munjilbinbin (文質彬彬)

 — The Path Where Ornament and Essence Walk Side by Side

If one were to describe the artistic world of Choi Rip (崔岦, 1539–1612)—a distinguished mid-Joseon diplomat and Renaissance man—in a single phrase, quiet yet firm would be most fitting. His poetry, prose, and artistic posture are free from flamboyant technique or exaggerated emotion. Instead, they reveal a restraint and balance whose depth grows with repeated contemplation. At the heart of this world lies the concept of munjilbinbin (文質彬彬).

The term munjilbinbin, originating from Confucius, refers to a state in which “literary form and expression” (文) and “human substance and virtue” (質) are harmoniously balanced. Excessive ornamentation becomes superficial, while an overemphasis on substance alone turns coarse. Munjilbinbin denotes a form of harmony in which neither dominates, but each brings the other to life.

Choi Rip did not treat this concept as a mere abstraction. Rather, he embodied munjilbinbin as a living principle throughout his life and artistic practice.

Unadorned, Yet Never Coarse

At first reading, Choi Rip’s poetry may appear plain and understated. There is no ornate rhetoric, no dramatic outpouring of emotion. Yet with closer and repeated reading, one begins to sense the ethical tension and depth of reflection quietly embedded within that calm surface.

In his poetry, nature is not decorative. Mountains and rivers, wind and moon are not scenic backdrops for aesthetic pleasure, but presences that breathe alongside the poet. His attitude toward nature is less an act of display than a means of self-discipline—a mirror through which one regulates the self. Here, literary form (文) does not obscure substance (質); rather, it reveals it.

Art as Another Form of Self-Cultivation

For many Joseon scholars, art functioned primarily as a vehicle for moral instruction. For Choi Rip, however, art was never merely didactic. Writing poetry, practicing calligraphy, and quietly contemplating nature constituted, in themselves, fields of self-cultivation.

To steady the mind in order to write fine calligraphy;
to shed excess desire so that poetry may remain clear;
to lower oneself in order to see nature more deeply.

In these processes, art does not teach ethics overtly; instead, it becomes a channel through which ethical sensibility naturally permeates. This is munjilbinbin in practice: morality does not step forward to lecture, and art does not drift into frivolity. The two proceed together, side by side.

Quiet Humanism: A Joseon Renaissance

Whereas Western Renaissance art often emphasized the assertion of individual genius and expressive power, Choi Rip’s world follows a different path. Rather than projecting himself outward, he tuned and regulated the self from within. Instead of raising his voice, he quietly sought balance.

This is not passivity. It is, rather, a restrained human-centeredness—what may be called quiet humanism. In Choi Rip’s vision, human beings are not separate from nature but complete themselves through relational engagement with it. This awareness flows throughout his artistic world.

In this sense, Choi Rip’s munjilbinbin is not merely an aesthetic principle, but a way of life.

What It Means for Us Today

We live in an age accustomed to spectacle and speed. We are urged toward stronger expressions, faster results, and more visible achievements. In such a time, Choi Rip’s munjilbinbin poses a quiet question:

“Do our words and actions remain in balance with the heart that produces them?”

A life where ornament and essence advance together;
an attitude where achievement and reflection stand side by side;
a state in which expression and character do not harm one another.

Choi Rip’s artistic world speaks softly yet clearly to us today:

True beauty is never noisy, and what is truly deep is always quiet.

Munjilbinbin may be an ancient phrase,
but its spirit remains fully alive in our lives today.

January 1, 2026
 
 

A New Year’s morning in the Byeong-o year

At Sungsunjae (崇善齋)

{Solti}

한글 번역: https://www.ktown1st.com/blog/VALover/348133