Su Hyun Kim
Su Hyun Kim

History is the lens through which I ask what power does to people, who we become inside a group, and what we long for when we are pulled apart. I begin with specific Korean images, such as a political brawl on the news, a family reunited after the war, hanbok, and the kings of the Three Kingdoms, because the more specific the image, the further its questions travel.


I recompose these fragments into new visual myths: crowds that fold into a pattern, hands that cannot be traced to one body, blades converging on a single point, figures standing in a palace courtyard at night. Power becomes a choreography everyone performs together, and memory is what remains in the gaps of the record.


Beneath the tension is a longing I do not want to resolve too quickly. I paint the moment of contact, a reaching hand, a gesture not yet a fist, where reunion and conflict are still undecided, and coexistence remains a hope rather than a fact.

History is the lens through which I ask what power does to people, who we become inside a group, and what we long for when we are pulled apart. I begin with specific Korean images, such as a political brawl on the news, a family reunited after the war, hanbok, and the kings of the Three Kingdoms, because the more specific the image, the further its questions travel.



I recompose these fragments into new visual myths: crowds that fold into a pattern, hands that cannot be traced to one body, blades converging on a single point, figures standing in a palace courtyard at night. Power becomes a choreography everyone performs together, and memory is what remains in the gaps of the record.



Beneath the tension is a longing I do not want to resolve too quickly. I paint the moment of contact, a reaching hand, a gesture not yet a fist, where reunion and conflict are still undecided, and coexistence remains a hope rather than a fact.