Texture, Gesture
(Fundamental Fig, Space Pado, 31 Aug – 11 Sep 2022)
/ Minji Chun (Art Critic)
Unfurl the invisible fig in front of you. Spread that “rootless” thing out—in terms of the nonexistence of its flower—that uncouples your chain of thoughts. By bearing fruits without flowering, the fig is breathing in a world upside down; with its peel, which is actually a calyx, the sweet, edible part inside functions as its flower. The invisible fig is fundamental; it stands in front of you, as an entity. Here, two artists, Euysun Kim (b. 1997) and Hani Yikyung Han (b. 1997), collaboratively discovered the similarity between the texture of its squashy internal flesh and that of the band aid skin that could easily be pricked with medical micro-needles. Throughout the exhibition, this unexpected, twisted resemblance is tremblingly exposed in space with constantly shifting views.
Now we enter a liminal state of texture that the artists draw from. According to Kim and Han, the interaction of the bandage needles with the skin is analogous to that of figs and wasps, two species that have a symbiotic relationship. It is like a trick of light; the visually sensual pleasure is solicited by the sweet, squashy inside being which is converted into a sharp pain. This is all felt at the same time and in a mutually interchangeable way. From the infinitely elastic skin of Outwardly Sunburnt, an ever-changing texture is revealed. It derives from the tender, liquid physical state of melting sugar as it moves through time. Moving Leaves is another example and another work of physical transformation; this time is one of a potential reversal, dependent on the weight of sugar rock candy hanging at the end of musical wires. Furthermore, in When Flowering Summer Comes, a dried out and decayed fig that is preserved in acrylic is at the show's epicentre. The biodegradation of the materials depicted here produces varying tactile sensations depending on their consistency and thickness.
Hummingbird brings us to gesture, in this piece a bird-shaped aluminium figure is precariously perched on a slender steel wire. The wind passes under the aluminium, deforming and changing its shape. The moving bird continues to sway as if it would fall at any moment, and the curving steel line beneath is also exposed to this wavering wind. That is, the gentle but blistering air is invisible, but its presence is certain, felt and heard. In Sinuous Wind, the cancelling of live noise through headsets points out its existence through non-existence. On the wall, the wind strives to touch the audience through silence; it becomes tangible by reproducing itself through audio machinery and sound equipment.
At the end of the exhibition, when you read some phrases and words (Sleek Sliding) juxtaposed with a photo of a fig (It's Too Hard), this bizarre tension is resolved into a dense experience. Sliding on your mind, the interplay of gesture and texture captures the fissure in your thoughts and feelings. Perfectionism, as Vilem Flusser pointed out, is conceptualised as a balance between polar opposites. What if perfect balance is conceived of as a struggle between two antagonistic, inseparable forces? Sliding between the tension in your thoughts and feelings opens up an imperfect space where freedom, fracture, and possibility can co-exist.