There is something slightly strange about trying to make an exhibition stand still.
Yesum Yoon's works seem to have other plans. They lean, gather, stretch, wobble, wait. Some appear ready to move in their own direction, while others seem to have stopped only temporarily–as if they might suddenly continue when nobody is looking. Together, they form a landscape of different scales, speeds and temperaments, where the visitor is not outside looking in, but becomes part of the landscape.
The rhythm of the exhibition emerged gradually, through conversations, experiments, suggestions, changes of mind and a fair amount of wandering. We have worked together before, and by now our way of working has become a little like dancing together–or playing jazz. One moves, the other responds. Sometimes we follow the same rhythm, sometimes we deliberately lose it. A suggestion becomes a detour, a detour