Cindy Ji Hye Kim at Casey Kaplan
I was introduced to Cindy's exhibition at Casey Kaplan by Lecturer Yvonne Feng.
This exhibition serves as a profound exploration of Cindy's personal history through image-making. Cindy delves into latent components of her consciousness, using both material and content to explore the 'push' and 'pull' between the visible and invisible. She constructs a fascinating world filled with archetypal figures, where memories and imaginations are tinged with darkness.
Visitors to the galleries are greeted by giant sculptures that act as introductions to Cindy's visual vocabulary. Cindy's birch easels are adorned with recurring imagery, such as fauna, wheels, and 'Mother' and 'Father' figures. Small graphite drawings (embedded with elements of life, etc., pressed flowers and her hair) on handmade paper are displayed on these easels. Despite the lifelike details embedded in the drawings, the scenes depicted in the drawings are nightmarish.
The next section of the exhibition shows paintings on silk. I was most interested in this exhibition section as I also paint on silk. Hence, it is interesting to see how other artists handle silk. Skeletal structures back the silk canvases. These skeletal structures cast additional shadows on the silk canvas, making the images appear more sinister. Cindy's use of grisaille (usually a monochromatic layer meant to be covered) symbolizes the harvest of repressed memories. Through such works, Cindy prompts viewers to think about hidden characters lurking in the shadows, long-forgotten in her dreams, or obscured in the recesses of her memory.
The exhibition culminates with four circular paintings inspired by Victorian-era phenakistoscopes (animation devices that create the illusion of motion when spun). In "Last Syllables of an Echo" (2022), figures of 'Mother,' 'Father,' and a young schoolgirl are frozen in poses (hinting at movement) and surrounded by hastily scribbled numerical figures. Trapped in a disintegrating clock, they become ghosts of Cindy's past, defenseless against the shadows threatening to swallow them. These works perfectly depict the elusive nature of the past, where darkness persists "in despite of light."
Joeun Kim Aatchin at Francois Ghebaly
The exhibition is best described in Joeun's own words:
Homed (name of exhibition) accommodates the drafts, those who have returned, and those who seek solace or are in willful solitudes. It is a psychological state of yearning to be settled; a state of relief in which one gasps and exhales, "Mom/Lord/Honey/My baby, I'm homed."
The experience of language ( including its flexions and failures) is core to Aatchim's practice. Like "homed," typos, errors, and mispronunciations become sources of inspiration for her. The exhibition also includes a poem written in 2019. In the poem, Aatchim draws a parallel between English (her non-native language) and a "struggling husband" (whom she treasures in his homeliness). Aatchin's use of silk in her practice resonated with me, even though our reasons for using silk differed. Aaatchin finds that silk's shifting, translucent surface is a metaphor for her partial inability to perceive three dimensions, also called stereoblindness. I found this an interesting way to look at materiality.
This exhibition also thoroughly showcased Aatchim's reverence of drafts in her practice. Works like Such Person (2013-22) consist of multiple unfinished drawings reworked into new works of art. A shiny silver paper rack extends along the walls. In her studio, Aatchim adds to removes from this rack constantly. Hence, to her, the paper rack represents her reverence for drafts.