Jihun Kim 김지훈

painter.kimjihun@gmail.com

Ma 16-V-25, 2025

Oil and pigment on linen, 178 x 127 cm, 70 x 50 inches.

A strange life and space that evoke a subtle sense of fantasy are akin to a kind of “gap” that keeps us alive. It is through this gap that we come to understand ourselves and carefully weave the distances between us and others as we live.

Ma 26-Ⅱ-25, 2025

Oil and pigment on linen, 178 x 127 cm, 70 x 50 inches.

A strange life and space that evoke a subtle sense of fantasy are akin to a kind of “gap” that keeps us alive. It is through this gap that we come to understand ourselves and carefully weave the distances between us and others as we live.

Ma 04-I-25, 2025

Oil and pigment on linen, 178 x 127 cm, 70 x 50 inches.

Study of movement and dynamism, 2024

Oil on linen, 50 x 65.1 cm, 19.7 x 25.6 inches.

Among the countless masterpieces in the Vatican, it was the dynamism of this particular dog that left the deepest impression on me. I don’t know why.

Portrait of the Youngest Cat, 2024

Oil on linen, 45.5 x 33.4 cm. 17.9 x 13.1 inches.

I have long worked with themes rooted in society, convention, vast nature, and dominant discourses. But recently, I have come to realize that the origin of these grand narratives often lies in the most personal of experiences.
This work is my first attempt to lay out fragments of my deeply personal life, making it a profoundly monumental piece for me.

My paintings often capture fleeting moments of existence resisting external forces that seek to erase them. As a result, they are impressed not as complete forms, but as chaotic imprints of that very moment—when being stands its ground.

Wife, 2024

Oil on linen, 48 x 27 cm, 18.89 x 10.62 inches.

Father, 2024

Oil on linen, 65.1 x 45.5 cm, 25.62 x 17.91 inches.

(Not sold)

Grandfather, 2024

Oil on linen, 65.1 x 50 cm, 25.62 x 19.68 inches.

(Not sold)

Ignored, 2024

Oil on wooden panel, 50 x 50 cm, 19.68 x 19.68 inches.

Uncertainty, 2024

Oil on wooden panel, 50 x 50 cm, 19.68 x 19.68 inches.

Unrest, 2024

Oil on wooden panel, 50 x 50 cm, 19.68 x 19.68 inches.

Study for Anxiety, 2024

Oil on linen, 45.5 x 33.4 cm, 17.91 x 13.14 inches.

🔴

Beomgamsansoo W15, 2023

Oil on linen, 152 x 130 cm, 59.8 x 51.2 inches.

Samsara B4, 2022

Pigment on polyester fiber, 48 x 27 cm, 18.89 x 10.62 inches.

🔴

Study for Anxiety, 2024

Oil on linen, 45.5 x 33.4 cm, 17.91 x 13.14 inches.

🔴

Study for Anxiety, 2024

Oil on linen, 45.5 x 33.4 cm, 17.91 x 13.14 inches.

Study for Anxiety, 2024

Oil on linen, 45.5 x 33.4 cm, 17.91 x 13.14 inches.

Study for Anxiety, 2024

Oil on linen, 45.5 x 33.4 cm, 17.91 x 13.14 inches.

🔴

Study for Anxiety, 2024

Oil on linen, 45.5 x 33.4 cm, 17.91 x 13.14 inches.

Study for Anxiety, 2024

Oil on linen, 45.5 x 33.4 cm, 17.91 x 13.14 inches.

Study for Anxiety, 2024

Oil on linen, 45.5 x 33.4 cm, 17.91 x 13.14 inches.

🔴

Greenish odyssey, 2020

Oil on linen, 53 x 45 cm, 20.86 x 17.71 inches.

Voyage of endure, 2019

Oil on linen, 53 x 45 cm, 20.86 x 17.71 inches.

Headless bird No.3, 2019

Oil on linen, 50 x 50 cm, 19.68 x 19.68 inches.

Headless bird No.2, 2019

Oil on linen, 53 x 45.5 cm, 20.86 x 17.91 inches.

🔴

Headless bird No.1, 2019

Oil on linen, 53 x 45.5 cm, 20.86 x 17.91 inches.

🔴

Survivalism No.4, 2017

Oil on linen, 50 x 50 cm, 11.81 x 11.81 inches.

🔴

Survivalism No.3, 2017

Oil on linen, 30 x 30 cm, 11.81 x 11.81 inches.

🔴

Survivalism No.1, 2017

Oil on linen, 45.5 x 53 cm, 17.91 x 20.86 inches.

🔴

I have long contemplated the act of seeing. The world of sensation unfolds before our eyes, but how honestly do we truly perceive it? Can we even claim to be truly seeing?

A pivotal moment came when I observed, under a microscope, the delicate structures formed by the scales on a butterfly’s wing—infinitesimally small, yet unfathomably intricate. This was not mere image collection. What I encountered was a world expanding like the cosmos: patterns, textures, fissures, repetitions, and borders where dissonant colors met. These compositional elements were astonishingly elaborate—more resolved than any painting—and within them, I read narratives of life and time, of vanishing and becoming.

This act of observation led me to rewrite the language of painting. I now pursue a form of painting not rooted in expression, but guided by gaze. Painting, to me, is not a tool for projecting my intent but a passage through which the small voices of the world are brought forth. I listen intently to what lies between sensation and observation, between image and existence—and through that listening, I record. Painting arises in this way: as sensation activates, gaze lingers, the hand responds, and the surface accumulates over time.

As I paint, I am constantly aware of the gap between myself and the world. This space unsettles me—but it also urges reflection. The fragile formality of the world, and how easily we overlook it, presses upon me. Thus, this series increasingly leans toward an ecological sensibility. What I observed was not merely the wing of a butterfly, but a method of reconstructing perception—a posture of seeing the world anew. It naturally intersects with the climate crisis we face today. By unsettling human-centered perspectives, I hope to retell the grandest stories through the smallest images.

The title of this series, Ma, is drawn from the East Asian philosophical concept of 間 (ma), referring to the space between—between time and space, between beings. But for me, ma is not simply a concept; it is a sensory unit. It is a painterly response to the tremors that occur at the edge of being, the minute movement within that gap. This “interval” is the essence of sensation I seek, the place where my inquiry into existence lingers. The unfamiliar lives and spaces that evoke a gentle sense of illusion are, for me, like apertures through which we continue to live. Through such apertures, we come to understand ourselves and nurture the subtle distances between one another.

As I continue my life as a painter, I often feel I am no longer the one who sees, but the one who responds. This response precedes technical ability; it arises from an attentiveness of the senses and a posture toward existence. That is why this process never ends. Rarely does a painting ever feel complete—more often, it opens into yet another microscopic world. This is why I continue to paint: to read the textures of the world anew, to renew the depths of myself, and to re-anchor the center of sensation.

Whenever I introduce myself in a gathering of new people, I have always refrained from calling myself an artist or creator. That’s because, rather than creating something entirely new, my work has been more about tracing and uncovering fragments already present in the world. With a belief in what constitutes a “good work,” I focus on assembling those fragments meticulously, guided by a sort of archaeological inclination. For this reason, I’ve always introduced myself as a visual art laborer. At times, when my work progresses smoothly, I feel an urge to capture those fleeting moments in some way. This video contains a glimpse of my voluntary labor, a small record of my process. As for the belief I mentioned earlier regarding what makes a good work, let me elaborate. First, a good work must not feel cliché. It should be produced through quality materials and a thoroughly considered process. Ultimately, it must be pleasing to both the eye and the heart. Therefore, the culprit that leaves a mark on the audience’s heart should never be the preface of a cryptic exhibition or myself—it must be the work itself. One day, I hope to create such a painting.

04.01.2025.23:08

Jihun Kim

Currently based in Seoul, South Korea.

Jihun Kim (b. 1990, South Korea) explores ways to preserve diverse narrative dimensions through paintings that embody vitality born from the interactions between living beings and their surroundings. He collects precarious existences and reconfigures the smallest units of life—gathered through various means—into unfamiliar narrative moments, using an aesthetic of the sublime. Through this process, he reveals a sense of profound anxiety in a manner that is deeply personal and abstract.

@jihunkimjihun

painter.kimjihun@gmail.com

Major Solo Exhibitions

2021 True-Blue (Gallery Spectrum, Seoul)

2020 Beautiful Disaster (Starfield, Hanam, Korea)

2020 The painting remained material (Gallery Roun, Seoul)

2019 ONE'S LIFETIME (Can.verse 10G45 ,Seoul)

2018 SURVIVAL: ISM ( Gallery ARTWA, Seoul)

2015 The Rest (Gallery in Sejong univ, Seoul)

2014 The Decolorized (Lespace 71 ,Seoul)

2014 Instintual Drive (Gallery 2tti, Seoul)

2014 Potential (Gallery Jireh, Paju, Korea)

Major Group Exhibitions

2022 Paradox (Gallery AZUR, Madrid, Spain)

2021 Alone, and together (Gallery Insa Art, Seoul, Korea)

2020 Spectrum X-Mas (Gallery Spectrum, Seoul, Korea)

2020 The 3rd New thinking art 2020 (Gallery namu, Seoul)

2020 Win-win leap (Gallery Roun, Seoul, Korea)

2020 The 1rd Gallery Chungmuro (Gallery Chungmuro, Seoul)

2019 Art window (Gallery sain, Seoul)

2019 Open call of Artspace H (Artspace H, Seoul)

2019 Above All (Galley A, Seoul)

2018 HAUNTING BEAUTY (Artist rian, Seoul)

2018 Fear : X (Indie Art Hall GONG, Seoul)

2014 JW Young Art Award (Artspace H, Seoul)

2014 The National College of Art Competition

(Hongik Art Center Gallery, Seoul)

2014 The 5rd Artists of tomorrow Gyeomjae Jung Sun

(Gyeomjae Jeongseon Art Museum, Seoul)

2013 SPACE 404 Exhibition of M.F.A Sejong Univ. Dept.Fine Arts

(Gallery in Sejong university, Seoul)

2013 The 4rd Young Artists Competition Gallery Jireh

(Gallery Jireh, Paju, Korea)

2012 The 4rd Insa Art Festival (Ara Art Center, Seoul)

2012 HOTIST Curator's choice (Gana Art center, Seoul)

2012 Young Artists Competition (Gallery a-cube, Seoul)

Art Fair

2018 Zebra Art Fair (Place NOON, Suwon, Korea)

2012 ASYAAF (Seoul Station, Seoul)

Awards

2014 Prize Artists of tomorrow Gyeomjae Jungsun, Seoul