Page 5 - 김은 개인전 2025. 10. 22 – 11. 9 아트뮤지엄 려

A record of circulation in Hanji

Kim Eun’s art exists on the threshold between dissolution and genesis, where destruction and creation are not opposites but
continuous movements within a single rhythm of being. Her practice unfolds as a process in which material, emotion, and time
interpenetrate, forming an ever-evolving field of coexistence.

At the center of this process lies hanji, the traditional Korean mulberry paper, and its transformed material state — hanji pulp. For
Kim, hanji is not merely a substrate for visual composition; it is a vessel of memory, emotion, and temporality. It absorbs gestures,
failures, and traces of daily life, embodying the cyclical nature of decay and renewal.

In her work, Kim tears, burns, and—most notably—throws hanji pulp. This act of throwing is not a performative display but a
physical manifestation of the dialogue between control and release. As she hurls the pulp onto the canvas, the energy of emotion
becomes tangible matter. The pulp, guided by gravity and air, flows, congeals, and solidifies through time. Kim does not resist this
process; she accepts the unpredictable order that nature imposes.

Here, the gesture of throwing becomes an aesthetic of surrender — a collaboration between emotion, material, and the invisible
force of nature. Waiting for the pulp to dry becomes an act of temporal meditation, allowing form to emerge through the silent
agency of matter itself. In contrast, the Burnt Hanji Series embodies the other side of this cyclical dialogue. The acts of tearing
and burning, though seemingly destructive, serve as gestures of purification and renewal. The charred edges of hanji delineate a
boundary between extinction and rebirth — a visual trace of transformation. Through the primal energy of fire, Kim reveals that
disappearance is never an end, but a state of becoming. “Dissolution and genesis” thus coexist as inseparable halves of the same
ontological rhythm.

Her Line Series, which she calls the “Bars of Perception,” explores yet another dimension of her philosophy. The vertical and horizontal
lines form the fundamental scaffolding of perception and being. Yet, the irregular flow of hanji pulp over these rigid frameworks
disrupts their order, allowing the tension between structure and emotion to surface. The vertical represents the will to ascend; the
horizontal, the desire for rest and serenity. Their intersection — the “bars” — is a symbolic threshold where aspiration and stillness
meet. Through these lines, Kim gazes inward, seeking the calm beyond the confinement of perception — the quiet world of truth
beyond the lattice of her own mind.

Kim’s oeuvre thus embodies a profound negotiation between material and metaphysics. Hanji becomes a living organism that
mediates between thought and feeling, presence and absence, time and transformation. In tearing, burning, throwing, and waiting,
she relinquishes the desire for control and enters into a rhythm of cyclical becoming — a poetics of material and time.

The exhibition title, “Dissolution and Genesis, and Beyond,” encapsulates this continuum. The ellipsis — “and beyond” — leaves the
sentence open, inviting the viewer into an unfinished time, a horizon of perpetual becoming. Kim’s works are not static objects but
evolving states of energy; they do not represent the world but resonate with its pulsations.

Standing before her works, we are reminded that to disappear is not to vanish, but to transform. Ash becomes light; fragments
become form. In this rhythm of decay and renewal, Kim Eun offers a subtle yet powerful answer to the eternal question of art:
Where does disappearance go — and how does it return?

2025. 10. KIM Eun

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