Kim’s
paintings are structured around the concepts of “stage” and “lighting.” She
sets the pictorial plane as a theatrical space, within which figures and
objects are meticulously arranged. As seen
in Ikarus(2021), she borrows mythological narratives
but transforms myths of human desire and downfall into quiet everyday scenes,
handling the boundaries of time and space with fluidity. Here, the canvas
becomes an in-between zone of reality and illusion, and the figures act as
performers on stage, exchanging gazes with the viewer.
The
orchestration of color and light forms the core of her painterly language. In
the two-person exhibition 《Curtain Call》(ThisWeekendRoom, 2022) and the solo exhibition 《Our Dawns Are Not What They Seem》(ThisWeekendRoom,
2023), she conveys feelings of death, loss, and absence through dramatic
contrasts of color and light. Yet, this illumination is never extreme; rather,
it dwells in the liminal time of “dawn,” as the artist describes—a state that
is neither full darkness nor complete brightness. In Face of Dawn
1(2023) and Inside of the Orgel(2023), light
appears ambiguous and transient, infusing each scene with an unstable, delicate
tension.
Her
figures evoke the compositional balance and formal sensibility of classical
painting, yet they exist in a state of indeterminacy rather than expressing
concrete emotions or narratives. In her recent works, including I
Collected Leaves(2025) and Leftover(2024),
the relationship between humans and objects becomes faint and uncertain.
Ordinary things such as cookies, chocolates, and drawers appear without clear
symbolism, creating a surface that sustains tension between meaning and
meaninglessness, emotion and sensation.