To celebrate this year's country focus, we are presenting a curated special exhibition, “Spotlight on South Korea”, featuring four young female artists from South Korea who studied in Germany and have since lived and worked here. The exhibition showcases the works of Jaeyun Moon, Jeiryung Lee, Sol Namgung, and Suah Im, who all bridge the gap between their South Korean roots and their lives in Germany. For instance, in her work Suah Im often uses the motif of the nose, a sensory organ closely linked to memories. She incorporates the smell of garlic into her performances, creating an olfactory connection to Korean cuisine. Yet, does her South Korean heritage always influence her art? Can art be created entirely free from geographical influences and origins? To what extent do these two worlds merge in the works of these four artists? Discover the answers for yourself.
First impression: tropical! The cactus, big cats,...langurus, snakes, and pelicans gather in tropical environments. Pink and blue shimmer at dawn in the nearby waters. This includes pear, palm trees, aloe vera, and cacti. That sounds artificial, and it is. Jina Park paints a landscape that is too perfect to be true. The animals sit sharply edged, almost collaged, in the overstyled, tempera-painted nature. In the background, the colors flow softly and sweetly into each other, like cotton candy. The artist stages her characters and objects. Again and again, there are sculptures in the center, reminiscent of ancient models, sometimes headless, sometimes in a contrapost position, and sometimes dramatically bent backwards, stretching the tight legs. No human characters are present. With her works, Jina Park visually and technically creates a field of tension between classical icon painting and a present plagued by over-stylization and threatened to displace everything human and natural. To be seen at the stand of ThisWeekendRoom.
Carolina Bazo stands on a narrow green strip separating the four tracks of a highway, in a white suit and a red storm cap covering her face entirely. To name it a green strip is an exaggeration, only a few dry bushes grow down her feet. Left and right cars and trucks pass by; the artist does not move actively; she only swings slightly back and forth from the pressure waves of the vehicles. Another scenario: Carolina Bazo stands in a mountainous, dry landscape. She wears a red shackled shape around her head, an imposing white mature skirt, and red long gloves. The deformed silhouette appears inorganic in the wide desert. Her red gloves cling to a tree, and a hose is flowing red fluid into her mouth. She's spitting. Bazo’s performances show how humans harmonize with their surroundings and how they repel each other. It's like performing the Triadic ballet in the rainforest or in the desert. Man and nature? That doesn't fit very well. An intense work, performances like rituals. Video and photographic footage of the performances can be seen at the fair booth of O Art Project from Lima.
Shame has two meanings; it can describe a bad feeling, and it is also used to refer to intimate body parts. It’s not surprising that the feeling of shame towards sex has established itself. But shame towards shame must disappear. This feminist message is demonstrated by Judith Miriam Escherlor’s work. In delicate colours, vulvaric, and phallic shapes and hair of any possible body region, the artist’s installations and textile objects are counteracting the prevailing taboo. Flowered slopes, vulvalips or phallic horseshoes—and everything shines fine and silky. With Judith Miriam Escherlor’s works for the Leipzig based galerie intershop, visitors will literally experience the deliberation of the sexes.
A digital streak blurs a group of ducks and goats. A bag of Japanese corn snacks, Kyabetsu Tarō, is pulled apart like an accordion. Yuka Numata's images are heavily pixelated, reminiscent of the 90s and 00s when we played Sims 1, Pokémon, Snake, and Super Mario. Instead of a screen, we see pictures ironed from countless plastic pearls, each resembling a pixel. Analog and digital merge seamlessly. Emojis stick out their tongues, and a can of Freeway Cola appears as if still loading. Beneath the playful surface, there's a consumer-critical undertone. Numata depicts cheap, less popular products—like discounter brands instead of Coca-Cola. Kyabetsu Tarō, a common snack in Japan, features a green frog in a police hat on the package, assuring cleanliness. Farm animals like sheep, chickens, and cows also appear. Numata's work explores themes of nature, efficiency, capitalism, poverty, wealth, childhood, play, plastic, and digitization. These elements blend to create beauty, evoking childlike joy and nostalgia for times before consumerism and digital overload. Her works can be seen at Shukado+Scena in Tokyo.
Entrada actualizada el el 29 jul de 2024
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