Ce qui fut sans lumière
In the heart of spring 2025, Kimreeaa Gallery presents the group exhibition <In the Shadow’s Light> (April 25 – May 24, 2025), featuring works by three artists: Lee Eun Yeoung, Oh Dakyo, and Park Yelim. Each of these three artists has consistently intertwined abstract concepts such as nature, time, and existence with their unique visual languages. While they share “earth” as a loose common denominator, each fills the exhibition space with their own inspirations and rhythms. Yet, when seen as a whole, the exhibition subtly reveals a sense of organic resonance—like the shimmering link of a spontaneous conversation born out of a chance encounter. This resonance might be understood as the result of their relentless creative journeys—gestures reaching toward the truth that humankind instinctively longs to grasp, the essence of being that cannot be seen. The visible side of things is merely one surface, and we know well that the memories scattered through fleeting images are never complete or pure. Yet the artists persist in shaping forms from intangible sensations and recollections drawn from moments they have encountered. It is a struggle—poignant and endless—toward the origin of existence, a dream, and a remembrance that forms the core of this exhibition. The exhibition borrows its title from the French poet Yves Bonnefoy’s (1923–2016) poetry collection Ce qui fut sans lumière (In the Shadow’s Light). Often referred to as a “poet of presence,” Bonnefoy sang of an “ancient dream”—an effort to reach a moment of pure presence in the here and now, even amid the impotence of memory that cannot touch the depths of things. Like this poet, who declared that one must “act and imagine, rather than simply dream of the depths of existence,” Lee Eun Yeoung, Oh Dakyo, and Park Yelim continue their creative gestures—sculpting fleeting moments into timelessness across time and space.
On the first floor, Lee Eun Yeoung presents a fabric installation drawn with charcoal and draped from the ceiling, softly enveloping the space. Known for transforming poetic metaphors into visual forms, Lee reflects: “In the end, I’m not sure if what remains is the image brought forth by a concept or the text invoked by an image. But I wanted to connect what lingers—the image, the text, and the material sensibility.” Her practice often results in ‘sculptural poems,’ where materials and forms become words and sentences; each artwork becomes a fragment of a larger poetic structure. Though she is trained in painting, Lee frequently uses clay—considered by her to be the most drawing-like material—in her sculptural work. She notes, “As I touch the material and sense its texture, the images in my mind shift, and the form of the work changes accordingly.” Her approach suggests that, in art, truth may lie in fidelity to the materials themselves.
On the second floor, Park Yelim and Oh Dakyo share the main exhibition hall, offering an intriguing interplay between their works. Both artists present large-scale pieces made with clay and sand that evoke distinct presences through similar materials. Park, inspired by winter hikes bridging the end of 2024 and the beginning of 2025, encapsulates ‘winter’ in her current work. Since the early days of her career, she has used sand to express the earth’s textures with realism; however, here, sand becomes more than just soil. It transforms into stone, water, and wind—each element embodying the passage of time. Through accidental techniques such as traces of sand adhesion, ink bleeding on Korean paper, and salt crystallization, her abstracted landscapes suggest snow-covered zones, wishful steps, and flags guiding one to the summit. Park’s poetic series draws from her own contemplative walks and invites viewers to imagine not only winter’s visual moods but also the emotions, experiences, and stories embedded within them.
Oh Dakyo, with her tactile, clay-rich textures and voluminous compositions, presents a visual language that feels akin to reading a new poetry collection by the late Yves Bonnefoy. Her works—including Ce qui fut sans lumière, Lueur de rêve, Une pierre, and Davantage de lumière ce soir—are made from sand and charcoal on Korean paper. Oh’s fascination with clay began one day while observing the soil in a plant pot, where she perceived an entire universe. This moment propelled her into a deep exploration of clay’s energy and symbolism. To Oh, clay evokes both flesh and womb, with its sensuous texture embodying the vital force of the earth. Her aim is to express the immense, invisible energies underlying the natural world. Rather than adhering to rigid plans, she remains responsive to the material’s reactions and allows the work to flow intuitively. “I’ve always believed that the earth’s energy resembles the power of empty space in the universe. By using the deepest material to express the highest realm, I wanted to reveal their ultimate connection,” she reflects.
Finally, in an adjoining space on the second floor, smaller-scale works by all three artists come together. Although each piece springs from the primal substance of the earth and reaches toward the origin of being, the results shine with unique creative forms. As one writer once said, “What the artist needs is not truth itself, but faith in truth—and ultimately, faith in art.” This exhibition invites us to reconsider that belief and reminds us that such faith must be grounded in tangible, sensory reality—what we can see, touch, and feel.
