Ji Eun Kim, Inside out-Concrete, 2016, Self-adhesive vinyl on corrugated plastic, 420 x 237 cm © Ji Eun Kim

In Ji Eun Kim’s practice, the city functions both as an object of research and as an organism that responds to an endlessly changing reality. What occupies the paintings she constructs is the variable “state” of the city, something impossible to contain within a single scene.

Rather than depicting the city as a vague fantasy, Kim renders it as the concrete substance of lived experience through specific evidence drawn from spaces she has personally seen and observed. In the spatiotemporal zones she refers to as the “periphery,” construction sites recur with particular frequency, producing an endless alternation between ruins and the emergence of new spaces and times.

This is both a defining characteristic of the land of contemporary Korea and the very history of its construction-driven development. Through painting, Kim investigates and questions the present condition of Korea’s compressed modernization as revealed through the rise and fall of concrete architecture. By observing the city, she constructs the textures and conditions of walls and ground three-dimensionally on the pictorial surface.

To bring out this sense of physicality, she also incorporates a range of visual materials, including adhesive sheets and tarpaulins, into her work. Her sensitivity to materials is distinctive. By placing readymade materials with tangible physical properties onto the flat surface she works with, she handles pictorial illusion with greater ease, efficiency, and dexterity.

Consider the long, grayish and ivory high-rise apartment blocks made with adhesive sheets in Inside out-Concrete (2016). Presented dryly through vertical and horizontal lines and grids, without emotional excess, the work characteristically depicts the cold aesthetics of a city constantly being demolished and rebuilt through the frontal view of architecture.

Seen head-on rather than from the side, this urban landscape seems to monumentalize a single moment through painting; ironically, however, Kim intuitively understands—and confirms through research—that all these urban scenes are ruins capable of disappearing at any moment.

The word “drawing” that I used in the opening paragraph to describe Kim’s practice requires more careful distinction. As she experiences various cities and the Byeokje area of Goyang, where she currently lives, from multiple perspectives and transforms the landscapes discovered in each place into her own visual language, Kim foregrounds the flatness that produces visual illusion as a process of “construction.”

For her, depicting the city is not a matter of expression but a form of research grounded in processes of “making” carried out according to a logic of her own and “arranging” according to an established order. Above all, it is an essential procedure for the artist to research the histories and visual patterns of places—high-rise apartment buildings and temporary structures made of concrete, as well as sites that are demolished and rebuilt with astonishing ease according to the logic of capital symbolized by real estate.

In the context of investigating the material properties of concrete, which dominates real space and time, Kim’s paintings acquire physical three-dimensionality. Painted in oil on canvas, The Life Cycle of Concrete (2016) shows the moment when part of a gray-toned building is being demolished, while simultaneously presenting temporary structures and soil in the foreground and buildings whose lifespans have not yet ended in the background.

For Kim, it is crucial to develop an internal logic by investigating what is to be “drawn” from actual space and time. Through painting, she creates a vital visual environment in which the architectural aesthetics of the city and country she inhabits, the landscape of hyper-accelerated capitalism, and the people living within the city can be viewed both microscopically and macroscopically.

Meanwhile, Kim’s decision to construct flat pictorial surfaces with readymade materials rather than brushes—as in her use of adhesive sheets on corrugated plastic in Inside out-Concrete (2016), or adhesive sheets on aluminum panels in Versatile Container Project (2016)—is highly significant. Aluminum, adhesive sheets, and tarpaulins are ordinary building materials that constitute the temporary and immediate urban landscapes encountered while walking through actual streets.

From this, we can infer a methodology through which Kim’s painting forms a close relationship with real architecture and existing urban scenery. Suspicious Roofs—Camouflage (2016), in which roofs viewed from above are painted as fields of color on canvas made from camouflage-patterned tarpaulin, detects abstract geometric patterns seen from the vertically plunging viewpoints of Google Maps and drones, newly capturing scenes of the city as they exist today both online and offline.

What forces, then, keep the city in motion? What kinds of visible scenes do these architectural materials—concrete repeatedly emerging in disorder and turning into ruins—provoke the painter to depict? In 2016, Kim may well have been one of the artists responding most sharply to these questions while also constructing the very “viewpoint” from which they are asked. She refuses to turn away from the frontal view, while simultaneously portraying the world from the elevated perspectives of drones and internet surveillance.

For Kim, the city is not merely subject matter but the very foundation of drawing itself. To make this foundation solid, she is an artist who concentrates on reinforcing the groundwork, perhaps far removed from merely rendering walls and ground illusionistically or busily searching for other subjects and narratives.

The works from Suspicious Roofs—Camouflage installed in the exhibition space do not form a single interconnected image but exist independently as separate fragments. How can images of the city experienced through the eyes of cameras, the internet, and other machines be confronted with our actual bodies, eyes, and feet?

On the “capricious land” invoked by the title of her recent solo exhibition 《Capricious Land》, Ji Eun Kim makes paintings that invite reflection on land and visual construction. Together, these paintings are building yet another city—one that may endure for a very long time.

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