The Things we Cannot Change–
Laurel Nakadate's The Kingdom & Byron Kim's Sunday Paintings
By Jason Conrad Llaguno, 2/8/2018
Part of being human is having to deal with the vast number of omnipotent variables of life that are beyond our mere mortal control. Despite all what the modern society may know about our immediate world, it is microscopic in comparison to the greater picture of existence. When trudging on through life, essential questions are raised and opportunities given; yet, so
many are left unanswered, so many are missed. Though inescapable, one must learn how to live with these constants of human existence and are eventually left with the eternal conflict of “what if” versus “what is.” Currently present in the Chelsea galleries are two exhibitions that explore both sides of this conflict while covering two different and personal topics. Laurel Nakadate’s recent photo series, “The Kingdom,” explores the “what if” in terms of her late mother and new-born son. Contrarily, Byron Kim’s endeavor to paint a portrait of the sky ever Sunday for the past seventeen years are reflective of recognizing the present and its relation to those external factors outside human authority. Though inherently different in both medium and derivation, both series merge themes of tragedy, life, coping, and perceived entropy in a conversation that questions the human condition and concepts beyond our understanding. At the same time, both exhibitions attempt to put said concepts into a realm where the artist and their audience can connect emotionally, thus sharing in their confusion and an ultimate effort to the actualization of the abstract.
Nakadate’s “The Kingdom” displays a series of thirty-four images that appropriate photographs from both the past and present. Nakadate sought out technicians on the internet to edit the photos for her through Photoshop to ensure the unpredictability of the outcome. This results in a timeline of photos of Nakadate’s mother (Mary) as she ages throughout the years until her death. The job of the technicians was to insert an image of Nakadate’s son, Theo, into the picture of her mother. The final product portrayed a series of remixed photos where some seem smoothly edited and natural, while other remain as evidence of Nakadate’s inability to have both her mother and son in her present life.
Kim’s venture of “Sunday Painting,” though vaster than Nakadate’s series, explores similar regions of the human condition. This endeavor was initiated January 7, 2001 with the phrase “Clear, snow melting dripped into the painting,” he wrote “Every Sunday?” This question gave way to the hundreds of paintings documenting Kim’s life since 2001. Each square is a portion of sky that Kim chose to paint that day thus all
centralizing on shades of blue, gray, white, etc. Initially, he wrote diary-esque entries on the bottom of each portrait on the wooden panel, but as he progressed through this artistic undertaking he would soon convert to canvas and scribe his entries directly in the center of the portrait as if his private thoughts were lying on the sky. Though his exhibition at the James Cohan Gallery does not display every single one of his “Sunday Paintings,” each sequential portrait seems to work as a timeline of Kim’s life for the past seventeen years as the audience watches his great triumphs, familial failures, reactions to culture, and inner thoughts.
Both artist welcome the viewers into their life and see glimpses of their emotional journey in making their pieces. The use of a series mirrors this idea of “snapshots” of either what could’ve been in in terms of Nakadate, and what is happening at the present moment in terms of Kim. With each work, both artists did not know exactly what to expect. The outcomes for each
portrait, for each day were substantially out of the realm of predictability. One of the produced photos of “The Kingdom” in particular resulted in one of the technician’s photo shopping Theo on Nakadate’s grandmother instead of her mother because of the vagueness of which figure was Mary. This mishap can be viewed as either a victim of unpredictable miscommunication or a serendipitous consequence that transcends the initial intent of Nakadate piece. Though not what she expected, this work, meant to originally provide superficial closure to Nakadate,
Byron Kim does not sulk on lost experience, however he lives for present and reflects in his “Sunday Paintings.” Occasionally he references moments from the past but does not waste effort in recreating them. In this way, Kim literally and figuratively paints a portrait defining the current timeline he resides in. He writes of tragedies as massive as the fall of the twin towers and as culturally entwined as the death of Michael Jackson, he celebrates over success as historical as the election of Barrack Obama and as personal as his daughter (Addee) scoring the winning goal. However, throughout each entry, the sky and the weather of that particular day provides an indifferent backdrop. Whether it be supernatural
exceeded the timeline beyond her mother and towards further lineage blending together generations of Nakadate’s family into a beautifully perennial reunion. Despite the unintended error, Nakadate tries to bring two lives of different timelines together, yet the only medium she is able to succeed is through art. Though an emotionally potent creation, the laws of nature bar Nakadate from ability to hand her mother her baby for the first time or say one last “goodbye.” She is regretfully left with artificial photos on the wall and an emptiness that can barely be filled with art. On the other side of the spectrum,
or coincidental, the weather may sometimes align with the perceived emotion exhumed by his thoughts. Sadness may be accompanied by the gloom of overcast and joy may sit upon a clear blue sky with minimal clouds, though it may be vice versa depending on the season. It’s natural for humans have a magical outlook on life and find the sometimes-mystical properties human emotion and weather, yet it may not be the case. Kim recognizes this and provides a mutual indifference toward the weather, relaying his thoughts normally and reacting with slight surprise when his feelings and the disposition of the sky may intersect. I have calculated that there should be approximately 890 different portraits marking each Sunday (give or take as few days) that Kim intended to paint. Each day is a new thought, a new emotion that Kim faces, yet the sky remains the same above only sifting through a limited spectrum of color. This fortitude juxtaposed with Kim’s conceptual thinking can be evidence of Man’s ability to overcome oppression of nature, even if it’s in an abstract form. Similar to Nakadate however, art and thought are the only areas where man can possibly surpass the seemingly omnipotent world around. It is works like Laurel Nakadate’s and Byron Kim’s that challenge the boundaries of nature and what man can accomplish or find within everyday life. Art remains as a staple for the expression in fields where all can relate. Through art, we all can laugh, cry, and feel those perpetual emotions forever constant in the lives of humankind.