Installation view of 《Where Light Leans》 © ThisWeekendRoom

A standard functions as a common framework through which society distinguishes right from wrong and organizes itself. In environments shaped by the demand for clear answers and efficiency, many have unconsciously come to accept straightness as a sign of normality. But are the conditions given to everyone truly so seamless and fair? Where Light Leans stems from this fundamental question.

Each body and perceptual system carries its own contours and fluctuations, while the relationships formed with surrounding beings continuously shift rather than settle into fixed states. The exhibition turns its attention to the narratives that surface when accepted notions of universality are unsettled and the binary gaze begins to fracture.

Amsterdam based Lithuanian artist Vytautas Kumža subverts photography’s documentary nature. Rather than capturing a specific scene as it is, he constructs surreal situations by distorting the scale, function, and proportion of his subjects. For him, photography is not a medium that fixes reality onto a flat surface, but a material through which he intervenes in three dimensional space.

This reflects a desire to recover direct contact with the object, something often lost in contemporary photography, and to merge the photographic realm with the real world. Printed images and physical objects are combined into assemblage like forms, where collected items are reconfigured beyond their original functions and familiar meanings. Together with the optical illusion produced by the photograph itself, these arrangements actively engage the viewer’s perception.

The artist’s stage, where spatial hierarchies are overturned and conflicting materialities collide, unfolds as a deliberately constructed fiction. A bicycle chain attached to a plate bearing a dog’s face evokes bondage, escape, and fractured loyalty (Wasn’t me), while a trophy bound with a necktie and suspended upside down suggests the inversion of value (Sight beneath the silence).

Elsewhere, the image of a collapsed yet intact house of cards points toward the notion of a safe failure (Brief escape), and a silver duck that shifts its appearance according to the reflected landscape raises questions about how easily identity is refracted through its surroundings (Quiet persuasion). His multifocal lens serves as a device that exposes the fragility and instability of contemporary perception.

Confronted with these plausible yet subtly disjointed hybrids, viewers are prompted to reconsider not only what they see, but also how belief and interpretation themselves are constructed.

Installation view of 《Where Light Leans》 © ThisWeekendRoom

In GuNa’s work, there are neither rigid straight lines nor definitive curves. The fluid lines that freely proliferate throughout her works stem from what the artist describes as her own physical discomfort and unstable way of thinking. Such wavering is less a sign of anxiety or deficiency than a unique way of sensing the world. Her inner mind is deeply projected onto forms that substitute for eyes, faces, and bones.

Everything that bulges outward, forms sharp angles, becomes fragmented, remains stagnant, or bears traces of corrosion serves as a clue to this sensibility. The artist has long observed a quince tree in the courtyard of her studio as it blooms and withers each year. Unlike ordinary fruits that ooze and collapse as they decay, the quince slowly dries while retaining moisture within itself.

Encompassing the layered transformations of a substance that gradually shrinks over time before finally fading away, IvoryBlackBrownTorso visualizes the tenacious vitality within finitude that the artist has witnessed.

FRP (fiber reinforced plastic), commonly used in her sculptures, was originally developed as an industrial material and requires specific temperatures and mixing ratios for proper use. Deviating from these conditions leads to variations in thickness and color, while unexpected impurities can easily become embedded during the curing process.

However, rather than meticulously refining these unintended results, the artist embraces the clues produced by chance and moves forward with them. This attitude is equally reflected in her paintings. The recurring word “Wagon” in the titles refers both to a vehicle that carries people or objects and to a protective shell surrounding the invisible interior of the body and mind.

The uneven surfaces created in the process of hollowing out the wooden panel are often left as they are. Yet accepting these unpredictable moments does not imply arbitrary abandon, for beneath the restless traces lies an already solid structure. Believing that even irregular forms possess their own inherent archetype, the artist boldly weaves together the disparate shapes discovered within them.

The standards that claim universality may ultimately be nothing more than someone’s belief or an imposed illusion. The anomalies in this exhibition do not merely function as formal experiments seeking to resist visual conventions or overcome bodily limitations. Rather, they represent an attitude for perceiving and navigating a world filled with uncertainty.

True balance is likely the continuous process of readjusting one’s center of gravity to avoid falling upon unstable ground. When we willingly deviate from the given path and lean ourselves off balance, instead of moving blindly forward, might we not finally illuminate the corners just beyond the elongated shadows?

TextㅣYoojin Lee (Curator, ThisWeekendRoom)

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