Jeong Kyungja, Drifting_01, 2017, Digital pigment print, 100 x 77 cm © Jeong Kyungja

For audiences accustomed to the square frame of Instagram, these images immediately draw the eye. Within sharply trimmed photographs, subjects are densely composed; yet curiously, one senses a certain “gap” and even a “breath” within them. This refers to the photographic works of Jeong Kyungja exhibited at Space22. They are snapshots that extract fleeting moments from seemingly insignificant everyday scenes and imprint them onto the image.

While they are straight photographs that faithfully capture an instant, they are also distinguished by their carefully composed framing and display, which create a refined atmosphere. Jeong Kyungja states that she relies entirely on intuition when pressing the shutter. This exhibition, she explains, was conceived around the question: “Where is the boundary that divides this sensation?”—hence the title 《The Boundary of Sensation》.
 
This exhibition, the artist’s first solo show in three years, presents subjective moments captured in and around anonymous architectural spaces. It includes the new series ‘Drifting’ (2019), which quietly observes the peripheries of spaces where people temporarily dwell, such as residential areas or churches; ‘So, Suite’ (2019), which mysteriously frames close-up views of the interstices within an old hotel suite awaiting major renovation; and ‘Elegant Town’ (2016), which recombines two photographs into a single frame to depict scenes from newly developed urban areas across Korea.
 
The ‘Elegant Town’ series is presented as two horizontally formatted photographs merged into a single frame. Due to their uniform color tones and precise trimming, each pair appears as though it were captured in a single location. In reality, however, these images are composites assembled from photographs taken in various new towns across the country.

They capture and rearrange the standardized spaces between residential structures. Ironically, the aesthetic of standardized elegance—characteristic of new towns—is most amplified at the moment when scenes from different times and places are combined into a single frame, erasing spatial specificity.

This reflects our own lives in a networked world, where we imitate one another: pursuing simultaneous global trends and consuming homogenized lifestyles—elegant yet monotonous. Opposite the horizontally extended ‘Elegant Town’ series, a long horizontal window overlooks the bustling Gangnam Station area. The facades of high-rise buildings and the pedestrians moving between them form yet another panorama, continuously generating new “presents” in real time.
 
Meanwhile, ‘So, Suite’, which documents every corner of a hotel suite in Seoul with over 25 years of history, visualizes the abstract notion of “memory” embedded within space through the artist’s sensibility. Objects in the photographs—such as worn chairs bearing traces of time, or sofas whose faded colors have merged with the aged paintings behind them—are intricately trimmed so that only fragments, rather than the whole, are revealed.

As a result, attention shifts from the objects themselves to the atmosphere of the space in which they are situated. The events and memories that unfolded within a hotel—spaces only temporarily occupied by individuals—are not preserved in the physical space, but rather inscribed differently in each person’s subjective memory. Jeong’s suite photographs function as terminals where such memories are shared. The flattened spatial rendering removes depth, prompting viewers to recall their own memories not through individual objects but through the image as a whole.
 
In this context, the new works in the exhibition appear to extend beyond the subjects at which the artist’s gaze is directed, as if embracing what lies outside the frame. One might say that the personal perspective evident in her earlier works has expanded. In ‘Story within a Story’ (2010–11), which focuses on encounters between everyday objects and their spaces, and ‘Speaking of Now’ (2012–13), which reflects on life and death, one could sense the artist’s intense gaze positioned closely to her subjects, even as she remained an observer of daily life.
 
The theme of “memory” becomes even more pronounced in another new series, ‘Drifting’, which captures the peripheries of large-scale residential complexes devoid of individuality. As suggested by the title, which implies a state of drifting, the history of these spaces has vanished, leaving behind surfaces wrapped in the prescribed aesthetics of “white” and “concrete.” The artist’s gaze flows freely, seeking the possibility of subjective memory within these environments.

Artificial-looking plants rendered through extreme close-ups, or a decaying poster occupying an entire wall of a residential unit, are placed among images of standardized architecture of varying scales. The display thus seems to carve out a space for subjective narrative. As the artist notes, “Photographs that each contain their own narrative create new interactions depending on their arrangement, and in doing so construct new stories.”
 
Through photographs created via the abstract lens of intuition—imbued with the artist’s own breath—the exhibition paradoxically stimulates a shared yet infinitely subjective “sensation”: the “memory” that belongs both to you and to me.

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