Les plates-formes: Suji Kim
Two Hypotheses on Viewing ‘Portrait of Shapes’
Ban E Jung (Art Critic)
“Questions of perception and cognition are familiar themes in meta-painting, and this exhibition seems to address them as well. Meta-painting has, it seems, become a required subject for visual artists in general.”
I once wrote a note like this after seeing Suji Kim’s solo exhibition 《연속하는 도형의 성질》 (PlaceMAK, 2016), and I recently revisited it. Put simply, I mean that Kim’s installations, which arrange repetitive and minimal objects, deal with the act of looking itself. I recall writing the note after observing how two identical white spheres placed between frosted and transparent glass appeared altered as they passed through or were reflected multiple times. The work addressed how the essence of an object changes depending on the viewer’s perspective.
Since then, Suji Kim’s work has continued to focus on how the same object can transform under different conditions. To explore this theme, she has repeatedly used basic, monochrome geometric forms. Materials such as transparent glass, mirrors, and plaster are fundamental elements of modern industrial society, and the circles, cones, and cylinders made from them function as basic units of form throughout her work.
By creating simple forms from the basic materials of industrial society, or by combining soft, easily scattered flour with hard, complete mirrors (as in 《내 사물을 보는 연습》(2017), which imitates the shape of a circular mirror with a rhomboid reflective surface), Kim’s approach resonates with Duchamp’s method of discovering art in everyday objects.
My first hypothesis, then, is that while her work deals with basic principles of form, it also explores moments when everyday objects intersect with the realm of art, or when the boundary between the everyday and art dissolves. Yet this hypothesis carries a caveat. In 《무리수적 소네트》(2017), where transparent circular glass pieces of the same size are stacked at an angle, the work demonstrates how the same material can take on different appearances under given conditions, addressing the transformation of representation itself.
For example, the series titled 《도형의 초상》(2016-17) uses basic geometric forms such as cones, cylinders, and spheres, but the central point lies in how these forms, when placed facing mirrors, reveal that the front view and the reflected back view differ from each other. Glass and mirrors, which frequently appear in Kim’s work, serve as analogues to the classical function of representation in visual art. By presenting the front and mirrored back differently, her work employs mirrors to subvert the traditional function of representation.
What should be noted again is that for her work, Kim uses basic geometric forms; cones, spheres, cylinders, in pure white or transparent monotones. It seems that she deliberately chose these immaculate materials, unblended with anything else, to emphasize how the same object can diverge into completely different and varied meanings through the process of representation.
“The monotony of Suji Kim’s installation compositions induce diverse interpretations and encourages viewers to see in ‘certain ways’.”
This was a note I left after seeing the two-person exhibition of Suji Kim and Song Yun Seob, 《recto/verso》(PlaceMAK, 2017). Even the same object can transform into a completely different entity depending on the conditions, highlighting that the formula of representation, which reflects an object or phenomenon “as it is”, contains such an underside. The problem, however, is that I could not find a satisfying interpretation of why the claim “representation can be distorted” is significant. The most straightforward answer would be to view it as a continuation of Duchamp’s found object, which discovers entirely different qualities in ordinary things, but that explanation did not feel entirely convincing.
“My work has helped to create a new paradigm of memory, shifting our view from the video-recorder model, in which memories are interpreted as the literal truth, to a reconstructionist model, in which memories are understood as a creative blending of faction and fiction.” – Elizabeth Lofus & Katherine Ketcham 『The Myth of Repressed Memory』
While reviewing her 2012 work, a second hypothesis emerged to fill the gap left by the first.
《어렴풋한 기억 La réminiscence à travers la luminescence》 (2012) which could be roughly translated from French as Memory Across a Flash of Light, is an installation in which twenty incandescent bulbs, each wrapped in paraffin, are suspended in the air just above the floor. The heat from the bulbs melts the paraffin, which then drips and solidifies into distinct shapes. Upon hearing the artist briefly remark that she used paraffin as a substitute for memory, the second hypothesis came to mind: perhaps this 2012 work, and possibly her subsequent works, have consistently addressed fundamental issues in human relationships.
If the first hypothesis focused on exploring the basic principles of form and how even faithful representation can transform as it passes through the point where everyday life meets art, then the second hypothesis might offer an explanation for why such transformations occur.
I began to consider that the work could reflect the artist’s own experiences of wounds inflicted through human relationships. These relational wounds often arise from misunderstandings, which in turn frequently stem from the differing memories that each person holds on the same event. The malleable nature of paraffin mirrors the nature of memory itself. Yet humans tend to believe that memory is accurate. This very question happens to be a recent focus of my own curiosity as well.
Hong Sang-soo’s black-and-white film 《Virgin Stripped Bare by Her Bachelors》 (2000) presents scenes in which the same event is interpreted sequentially from the perspectives of different characters. Each character projects their own subjectivity onto a single objective event, producing radically different narratives. At the time, I watched the film thinking of this as merely an inflated exaggeration created by the fictional device of cinema. Today, my view is different. Human relationships and communication may seem like transparent, everyday domains, yet miscommunication caused by someone’s distorted memory can obstruct understanding and, in turn, inflict unjust harm. The essence of these relational dynamics can only be truly grasped through direct experience; for those who have not lived it, it remains an unknown realm, much like art. This unknown world is scattered throughout everyday life. In this sense, it connects with Duchamp’s idea of discovering the mysterious or artistic realm within the ordinary.
To confess the complex experiences of human relationships through the simplest combinations and transformations of basic geometric forms – this is my second hypothesis for interpreting Suji Kim’s various portraits of shapes.