Installation view of 《Melting a Lump Sugar》 (Artspace Boan, 2020) © Park Seok Min

Is it possible to introduce an exhibition of moving paintings?

Is the abstraction of a full yet empty space feasible?

Is the void an idealistic place or a physical state?

The errors of defining painting as a collection of unfamiliar and vivid light placed in space.

Is it possible to transform the movement of the line of sight into the motion of the object?   

Can the material/form be used as the clue to implement the mood or the void?

Can one imagine a picture progressing along a curved/distorted surface without feeling out of place? 

Is it possible to control the appreciation of art so that certain paintings are not specially captured by any particular viewer?

Is it possible for the viewer to comprehensively sense the lines in motion across multiple layers of the painting?    


I needed the void. By that, I don’t mean nothingness or emptiness. It could mean the most intense moment of our lives, or the instance wherein the elevator doors shut close. Perhaps for me this is the most current direction of sensing that follows concentration and pause. For a long time, I had felt inexplicable kinship with objects of celestial bodies which are physically very distant, and at the same time, a certain unknown 'presence' of foreign matter obstructing my relationship with those in close proximity with me.

Whenever I fail to distinguish and segment each parcel of material reality amidst the torrent of spacetime, I would imagine the blinking of an unknown spacecraft floating towards a distant destination. Any attempt to sense the unknown should be preceded with intermediate efforts to segment the steps along the way.

What am I staring at? Starting at some point, whenever I observe or imagine something, I found myself thinking about everything except the object itself. What lies in front of me feels like an afterimage that hovers between its essence, physicality, language, and senses. Initially, the plan was to simply lay out two stories in temporally layered tandem structure.

I felt as though it would be possible to see each element connected to emotions and sensations at the same level and from an appropriate distance. I also determined that the appropriate conditions have been met to discard many things. This plan led nowhere. I thereafter realized that I had neglected my own, long-held desire for paintings and the surface.

The more time I spent on a work, the distance between me and the object I sought to paint grew immeasurable. This is because my line of sight, my body, desire, and even reason continued to move incessantly in search of the appropriate distance.

The works presented in the exhibition space focus more on my determination to synchronize myself with the depth of the gap that flows between me and the universe, rather than the resolution of the painting-images or the formative completeness of each work. This has to do with the original purpose of creating motion on both the inside and outside of the surface of my work.

I intended to transplant the expanded concept from the form-vision-taste transmutation across the layered structure of the exhibition space itself. The sugar cube imagery just came to me one day as I prepared the exhibition. In the simple thought experiment of melting a sculptural sugar cube, I imagined the unrefined corners melting in the point-corner-surface order, and my mouth began to water.

The essence of the object I see encompasses its potential; as such, I embedded metaphors about the sugar cube, sugar, sweetness, lightness, and fakeness in each of my work, and focused on elements extraneous to the painting itself such as lighting, movement of the viewers, and empty space.

I focused on erasing the hot things and curtailing the narrative. I wanted to control the space so that the adjacent paintings are the afterimages of or the justifications for each other; so that the flow of the paintings would interact with the empty space to initiate a comprehensive experience; and to ensure all of these can function as a trajectory or system.

Perhaps this is an entirely painterly attempt to cut out my exhibition 《Melting a Lump Sugar》 from the excessively grave independence of paintings and to move on to a lighter, or non-painterly point. Between the things that are cut off and mended together, the causal narratives escape the center, one after the other. The more they try to contact, the sensory languages line up in a sturdy order and sink. The void melts away those hard corners and expands them.

References