Installation view © Johyun Gallery

May 10th, Johyun Gallery Haeundae is pleased to present Hyunsun Jeon’s 17 new paintings for her latest exhibition, 《Two, Lying Down, Exposed Roots》. Jeon’s latest -seen-before works come from the streams and cascades of cogitation the artist has waded through, collected, and crystallized on the relationship between two things and the hidden nature of what is essential. Installed in the center of the exhibition space is a polyptych of ten paintings, each canvas panel one meter wide and two meters tall, interconnected both as paintings and as objects in space.

Everything shifts constantly, affected by the setting, the situation, and who is involved. Standing upon such variable footing, Hyunsun Jeon speaks of herself in no fixed terms. Because of this, she trusts stories of the peri-self to be more effective than any self-certain stories of herself. As such, she is slow to judge, predicate opinions, or finalize decisions. Rather, she considers her relative position in physical and relational settings with great care and caution. Such considerations are certainly beyond passing experiences, thoughts, and feelings, for they are all journaled on canvas with painterly grammar. These painted journals form a connected story that Jeon describes as “narrativity,” although it does not come from a place of intention or purpose. Narrativity, in the sense that Jeon uses, is the relationship between things, paintings, and images—relationships that connect and form spontaneously, expand, and become revealed. However, she did not want the objects to appear with any hierarchy of importance in this relationship and mediated this with a flatness of composition throughout the painting.

The ten canvas paintings, two meters tall and interconnected in the shape of a partial arc, are situated in the exhibition space as both a painting and an installation work. The painting is no longer a static presentation on a white wall to be gazed upon but a spatially relevant and significant work that actively interacts with the space and the visitors. The interconnected canvases draw an arc of ten meters, establishing a relationship with the exhibition space as a spatial component affecting movement patterns and as a signifier of the negative space it has created. As ten canvases conjoin into a continuum, appreciating the whole and the individual both become a strange endeavor, where the viewer must consider a position and method of viewing somewhere within the space. Take it in from afar, walk alongside, or stand close to carefully examine each of the ten canvases.

While the larger canvas comes from the artist’s diligent journaling, the smaller canvas on the wall depicting her studio is about the place of those thought-encounters. Jeon previously wished for subjects and things to meet at a point and move toward a shared ground of mutual understanding, but now her hope is for subjects and things to simply, yet wholly, abide in their differences together across time and space. If we can recognize all our differences, we may also recognize that some of those differences are extremely minute. And if we could simply abide with that understanding, our time together may last longer. The painted roots sink into fundamental things not revealed on the surface. The paintings on the wall show what the artist sees as she pours her thoughts onto the canvas. Those smaller paintings are her mundane routines shared—incomplete and blank canvases, paints and brushes, and all.

The ten-piece polyptych paintings are interconnected both physically and narratively, in relevance and in relation to the space and the exhibition. Jeon has not prescribed any answers or drawn lines between the space and the paintings, between the paintings themselves, or between objects. There are things, objects, and subjects, but there are no fixed terms. Definitions of terms, lines, narratives, or otherwise, are entirely up to the one who pays attention.

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