Artists are often characterised as elusive figures, operating on the outskirts, hidden from view. They work away diligently within their studios, existing in insular circles until the moment of their ‘emerging’—after which they begin to steadily share their practice (and, by virtue, their likeness) with the wider world. In stark contrast, Sang Woo Kim’s image (and thereby this recent series of works) is already deeply embedded in our public consciousness. As a high-profile fashion model for several years, his instantly recognisable visage has criss-crossed countless media. This unique, preestablished visibility forms a compelling backdrop to his first solo exhibition in the UK, The Seer, The Seen, displayed across both Herald St gallery locations. Through his suite of works, Kim effectively challenges the viewer to reflect on the experience of being observed: what does it mean to be seen? And what are the consequences of having one’s sense of self fractured, commodified, and iterated?
Featuring 25 works across two sites, the exhibition showcases a range of painterly flairs. Impeccably rendered oil portraits are juxtaposed against diaphanous and retrospective pigment dye transfer paintings. Together, these works dialogue via their specific differences incredibly effectively. They balance a suggestion of the familiar, through Kim’s self-portraiture, with the intangible, via the layered history of image circulation explored in the dye transfer pieces. However, the inclusion of several sketchier, duo-toned oil portraits feels like an unnecessary divergence from this well-crafted interplay. These works, with their less refined approach, detract from the strengths of the other two series, leaving the overall presentation somewhat diminished by the absence of a more rigorous edit. What clearly underscores all of Kim’s various approaches, however, is a desire to test the legibility of images through iterations of materiality and a masterful handling of composition.
Ways of Seeing 010 introduces the East-End exhibition, the first of several totemic multi-panel dye transfer works across both galleries. Glancing across the work’s surface arouses a disquieting push-and-pull tension between the cool slickness of the various source images’ digital origins and the tactile tooth of the canvas they now inhabit. Inky and stylised, the mottled edges of each image pool into a narrative plane: these are all lenses, eyes, faces, and moments that reorder us back to Kim’s central concerns. Notably, the linear arrangement of the multi-panelled works effectively mimics the emergent ways media is actively consumed today: think the scrolling of Instagram or TikTok. By subtly enacting this arrangement, Kim artfully emphasises the continuous flow of images surrounding us, grounding their ephemeral nature through his own form of photographic permanence. The artist recently stated on Instagram, ‘If people can paint like photographs, I want to paint photographs like paintings,’ and this dichotomy has proven invariably productive.
In contrast to the fragmented rapidity of the dye transfer series, Kim’s oil portraits demand a slower, meditative engagement, inviting viewers to pore over their meticulous details. Each facet—eyelashes, hair strands, and Bonnardian stippled brush marks—builds toward a range of images that feel profoundly intimate yet intriguingly incomplete. The absence of Kim’s full face in these portraits creates a palpable tension between revelation and concealment, pulling the viewer into an intimate but enigmatic circle of relations. Noteworthy among these works is The Corner 012, where the taut framing of Kim’s jawline and eye almost becomes an abstraction. The Fold 002 pushes this mode to its apex, increasing the crop to focus entirely on the epicanthic folds of the artist’s eye in a surreal miniature canvas hidden around a corner.
Something is gained in the presentation of the Museum St space through its specific architectural quirks, twists, turns, and separate alcoves. Journeying through the space to see these images creates a gainful process of discovery that doesn’t occur within the linear presentation of the east London space. When the curation unfurls and surprises you with uniquely distanced placements, Kim’s work shines. These paintings need space. A sentiment that is perhaps emblematised in the work Moment of 012, where a set of pale green eyes floats within the middle of a canvas. The image itself is cinematic and haunting, the disembodied gaze seems to belong to another model, yet it encapsulates Kim’s own dual identity, his modelling past and his present as an artist. Adrift within the picture plane, this eerie motif underscores the tension between image, identity, and meaning that beautifully permeates his recent work.
