Installation Views
Press release

Humankind has long created images and patterns from small pieces. The history is long, and the materials have been extremely diverse. Examples include Roman and Byzantine mosaics, Gothic stained glass, Islamic tiles, and after the Middle Ages, quilts made by women at home. Across time and space, countless “piecemakers” have existed. I am one of them. 

 

For the past ten years, I have worked by cutting and assembling pieces of wood. This practice began with my fascination with old house timber; splintered, peeling paint, marked by nails and saws. Through my work, I record the traces of life and time, reflecting on their beauty and raising questions about permanence. 

 

However, since moving my studio to Korea, it has been difficult to find architectural scrap like I did in New Zealand. In recent years, the vintage craze has led to artificial traces of age being produced in China and sold widely as products, making genuine materials even rarer. 

 

As always, there is a need to explore something new. Using stencils or silkscreen to add patterns and textures to wood began naturally from this impulse. I also began a series of works inspired by, and in homage to, traditional Korean patchwork (bojagi) and the Gee’s Bend quilts made by African American women slaves; works I had long admired with both awe and envy. 

 

The women who, in the confines of Joseon sewing rooms or small cabins along the Alabama River, cut pieces and stitched them meticulously became my teachers. They taught me not only a refined sense of aesthetics but also virtues of patience and diligence. 

 

Although I cannot hope to match the beauty they created with limited materials, my works, made from wood with a texture very different from fabric, remain distinct. Beyond the simple fact that small pieces come together to form a whole, my pieces and their quilts are quite different. 

 

I believe in the power of small things. When these small things come together, they can create immense strength. Everyone has marveled at a field of wildflowers, each bloom small on its own, yet together transforming the colours of a landscape. Or consider the harmony of a choir or the symphony created by different instruments, each playing its own sound, together, they produce something extraordinary.

 

Compared to these examples, my work may seem modest. Still, as an artist hoping to offer people a new visual experience, I want to add the hope that it can convey, even in a small way, a message much needed in our time: harmony and coexistence. 

 

Youngae Kim