Denial is bound to reach a limit at some point because denial must be anchored on that which is denied. As such, Suhyeon Kim’s fourth solo exhibition is a process of overcoming the artist’s self and starting a new journey - all transcending the limits of denial.

Kim’s cutting works began in New York in 2006. To the artist, that work was a process of denial: denial of meaning which was so casually put to works, and denial of that feeling of disconnect as if faced with a cliff. One can only assume that the pain which the artist must have felt was akin to that desire to deny and the extreme anxiety stemming from achieving that desire as in Henry Matisse’s <Le bonheur de vivre (1906)>. In other words, Kim had to deny all foundations, all that which imbued paintings with meaning, representation for value, all acts which were comprehensively called creative; and on that empty floor which the artist faced after her creative actions met bankruptcy, Kim must have felt anxiety and fear.

Between the old principles which had to be denied and distant new principles which are yet to come, the artist needed a breakthrough for gathering herself. More precisely, she would have needed something even if that fell short of offering a breakthrough. For the artist, an act of denial might have offered a better option than being pushed to indeterminacy. Kim recollects that period as “a sense of desperation as if fate blocked the way.” Thus began Kim’s drilling. Committing a knife to a tight canvas, although seemingly similar to Lucio Fontana’s challenge to the tradition of representation, is in fact heading in an entirely different direction: whereas Fontana’s works created a new form out of cuts, Kim began with specific forms, such as laces from her childhood’s memory, to achieve undecided, irregular forms - indeterminacy. The <Stone> series in the exhibition is titled so to express an intention of de-representation; like chiseling at a stone, small holes are sculpted into canvas. It is also Kim’s homage to Agnes Martin’s serene and meditative works.

Thus through an act which symbolizes both emptying and filling, the artist goes from denial to indeterminacy. She transcends ‘before’ to go towards ‘still.’ Through this slow and incremental but certain and continued change, the artist visualizes the ‘still’ of indeterminacy. Perhaps it is a sign of peace of mind; canvas which once blocked one’s view now has holes through which the insignificant reality can be observed. The artist’s vision appears to have expanded enough to betray the extinction of materials like melting paraffin; one wonders whether such progress is made possible by the peace of mind. Layers of paint on the surface, free flowing and stacked, once again confirms such observation. At the same time, the artist has become strong enough to see the problem of existence – that shabby, scared, and anxious behind of being. This is clearly seen in entertaining negative questions. Some have pointed to feminism or issues of materiality in Kim’s works. But reflecting on the progress of the last decade, and even if Kim’s questions include issues of sexual ideology and discussion of materials, it is certain that the artist was not buried in those matters. It is known that each of Kim’s works takes three to four months; each work is a record of questions that the artist asked herself at the intersection of ‘before’ and ‘still’ at least for a season. These questions extend to humanity and existence, universality, sacredness, and transcendence, refusing to be limited to any one of them.


Sangyoon Lee, art historian