Installation view of 《Whispers》(Gallery Hyundai New York Project Space, New York, USA, 2025) © Gallery Hyundai

Language often fails. The reality we live in is full of things that cannot be clearly demarcated. Like days between winter and spring that are neither winter nor spring. Even if one tries to break truth down again and again and insert it into precise language, there is always a blind spot. Some truths can never be spoken aloud.

Jin Han Lee, who has drawn attention as an artist in her forties highlighted by Gallery Hyundai, deals with “untranslatable” moments. While studying in the United Kingdom, she lived as a stranger and often discovered the gaps between different languages and cultures, a position that was neither inside nor outside, and the spaces between relationships.

For the artist, what could fill these gaps was painting. Primarily using nature as a motif to express emotion and memory, Jin Han Lee spends a long time conceiving a narrative, then rapidly paints the fleeting moment she finally discovers. Moving between the pushing brushstrokes of Western painting and the pulling brushstrokes of Asian painting, she grasps a dreamlike truth.

There are things whose presence we can know, even if they are invisible to the eye and cannot be grasped by hand. A truth that cannot be fully contained in the words “I love you” is conveyed through the sensation of two bare feet touching. Because such moments cannot be translated into any language, it may be only natural that language often fails.

As John Berger said in his book Some Paintings, painting makes the “intangible things” we witness in life “tangible.” It is a translation possible only through art.

Jin Han Lee has said that, for her, painting is “a space where the artist’s private language collides with the language of the world, like a monologue performance under a spotlight on a theater stage filled with an audience in the dark.” In the brief moment of standing before her paintings, a door to an extremely honest and intimate sensation opens.

There, touching the bare skin of the heart, one recalls the truths that have been omitted. It is in such a moment that a single painting of a dreamlike scene knocks on the heart of someone living in reality.

References