KIM
HYUNJEE
 




WORKS︎

2019-
  1. Full Bloom
  2. A Pond
  3. Dreaming at the Beach
  4. My Father
  5. My Father’s Dancing Legs
  6. Bed Fight at 10 
  7. Documentation [30.11.2020-11.2.2021] On Potato
  8. I Want to Understand You and I Forgive You
  9. I Can’t Find My Home
  10. Home Dinner [babsang 밥상]
  11. Spiders in My Bed
  12. Toastbook 
  13. My Quiet Room



PROJECTS
2020-
  1. Dancing Leg
  2. In My Dreams
  3. How to Bake a Cake



EXPERIENCES
2023-
  1. Transformation Project, Averill Park, NY, US
  2. Arts Letters and Numbers, Averill Park, NY, US
  3. Aesthetics of Bliss, London, GB





PRESS
2023-
  1. CBS6 Albany, 2023 - 

    “Nopiates committee's transformation project sheds light on substance abuse disorder”








                We all originate from the core of emotion.


                A rock, the nature, our body is a perfect connected metaphor, an allegory in volume. When placed it’s sculptural limits beget a kind of proposition — and when considered with reduced anthropomorphism and ungeologically — produce a ready-made analog to the causation and bounds of our attempts at the understanding of all things.




Kim Hyun Jee is a sculptor who centres her work on 압 (壓, 押) – "the act of pressing”. In reflecting our current socio-political landscape, where radical politics often exploit or diminish the power of language, she engages with the layered meanings of the traditional Chinese character 압 (壓, 押), which can be interpreted as ‘physically pressing’ or ‘psychological, social pressure’.


Using ceramics, silicone rubber, and other mixed media, Kim expresses her philosophies through the concept of "pressing"—fully embracing the primitive pressure, temperature, and emotion. Her work suggests new possibilities for communication, emphasizing the transformative power of poetic expression.



Mark






My Father

 




My Father 
ceramic with glaze, calico, fabric glue, metal, 2021
           


About the dilemma between listening the obligation of being a daughter and honest emotion towards my father.

Listening to the continuing life with remaining anger and resentment, sadness, confusion.

And asking myself why can’t I let it go, why am I still trying hard to continue the role as a daughter.

Like holding the broken pieces of a china by force to make it stay as how it was.