2026 Curatorial Statement-, Seungyong Jeon
Those Who Tend Trees
The condensed life force embedded within a still forest landscape reshapes our understanding of the interconnectedness of all living beings. In Hyun-Kyung Lim’s works, the contemplative space that has long separated humans and nature is quietly dismantled, prompting us to reconsider how we perceive the natural world. When the long-held assumption that humans stand above nature (Anthropocentrism1)) is set aside, the relationship between humans and nature comes to be understood as a relationship of mutual sustenance and coexistence. This transition begins not with grand declarations, but with the quiet practice of caring for a single tree; an internal acceptance of ecological cycles and coexistence as a way of life.
The first impression of a city is often an achromatic landscape, where cold concrete, hurried footsteps, and dense buildings blend together. Yet, when we slow our pace and take in our surroundings, we begin to notice that, in the spaces between, trees large and small have quietly taken root along streets, gardens, and parks. These trees captured by Lim are not nature in their untouched state. From afar, they may seem like simple clusters of green, but up close, traces of a careful human touch emerge throughout. From the structures that support them, to the ropes that gather and steady broken branches, to the wrappings that help them endure the winter and protect their fragile life, a garden begins with such small and humble acts of devotion. A quiet warmth permeates all things, and through her trees, Lim intuitively reveals that the presence of care runs through the world we inhabit. Though no human figure appears in the drawing, the act of watering, installing supports, and careful tending become, in themselves, expressions of devotion and signs of solidarity. Her garden reveals presence through absence, a quiet record of devotion.
In the exhibition title Hidden Weavers, ‘Hidden’ refers to the often unseen acts of care that have long been present around us, yet rarely revealed, suggesting that mutual support and solidarity extend beyond individual accomplishment to become the collective outcome shaped by diverse beings. The dictionary definition of ‘weavers’ is limited to ‘artisans‘ or ‘those who weave fabric’, but this exhibition expands the term to encompass the intricate weaving of relationships among humans, nature, and the countless points of connection within society. This context embodies care and small efforts of the unnamed, suggesting that the world is woven through unconscious collective acts. As both an observer and a storyteller, the artist accentuates the influence of collective subjects, rather than individuals, through unseen traces of labor that extend beyond the frame.
Rather than dwelling on the cycles and harmony of all things as a static object of contemplation, which is the traditional Eastern view of nature, Lim reinterprets this view as a narrative of silent
1) Anthropocentrism is a worldview that regards humans as the sole moral subjects, separate from nature, viewing nature as an instrumental means for achieving human ends. Grounded in a dichotomous hierarchy that places humans above nature, this perspective has, in contemporary discourse, expanded into a functional approach that frames nature as something to be strategically managed and preserved for sustainable survival.
consolation shared among living beings that stoically endure within the contemporary city. If the traditional landscape painting depicts an ideal relationship between humans and nature, her work questions how this relationship has operated in our time, within environments structured by artificial grids. In Nine Gardens: An Approach to the Planetary Garden (Neuf jardins: Approche du jardin planétaire), French landscape architect and ecologist Gilles Clément conceives of the Earth as a vast garden and humanity as its gardeners. In his formulation, the gardener is not a figure who dominates nature, but a steward who navigates paths toward harmonious coexistence within ecological cycles. Respecting nature’s organic processes and embracing its ongoing changes is the vision of the Naturalistic Garden proposed by Clément.2) Likewise, Lim’s garden does not pursue either nature’s splendor or its idealized form. For her, a single tree symbolizes humans and nature communing through quiet, collective acts of care to nurture the world.
As darkness falls, what went unnoticed during the day is slowly revealed through light. In the deepening stillness and mystery of night as streetlights flicker on one by one, the artist contemplates the weight of the night and the aspect of humanity revealed within it. It is a subtle attunement to the way the care of the day continues into the night, and to the quiet continuation of that unseen presence. Lim’s garden, full of trees and wrapped in cloth, forms a tranquil veil. As the veil folds and unfolds, it becomes a tender space for shared presences, and a forest where imperfect beings support one another as pillars. Within the landscape of modern society, it is a space for recovery through mutual support and solidarity. Lim’s garden is, ultimately, a place for such reflection.
The process of applying ink and color to silk, then building up layers of pigment by moving back and forth between the front and back, is akin to walking through a forest. Just as a forest is formed through the accumulation of time and quiet interweaving of small living beings, the layered forms upon the silk simultaneously reveal the visible and the invisible, presence and absence, deepening the spatial richness of the work. If the artist’s early works, layering pigments on hanji, revealed performative layers of time, then the gradual shift of the medium to silk reveals spatial depth by culminating in a multilayered surface. Upon this sensitive ground, the artist builds upon layers of color, creating a subtle, enigmatic depth and painterly richness that transcends the limits of the flat surface through minute variations in thickness. Through the simple materials that appear throughout the work: supports, pull cords, and bandages, we glimpse a world quietly tended by unnoticed acts of care. The veiled garden and enclosed walls emerge from isolation into an open space, offering a place of repose where we can briefly dwell.
2) Gilles Clément (1943–) proposes a model that respects spontaneous vitality and movement through The Garden in Motion (Le Jardin en Mouvement), and promotes ecological diversity in marginal, human-uncontrolled spaces through The Third Landscape (Le Tiers-Paysage). Based on these ideas, he presents The Planetary Garden (Le Jardin Planétaire), which envisions the Earth as a single vast garden to be collectively cared for.
The new works, Time Weaving the Forest (2026), is a series composed of eight 100F (162 × 130 cm) works, tracing the unfolding trajectory of time from nightfall through dawn to the first light of day. Beginning with the calm tones of the dark night, the background gradually fills with faint light, visualizing the breath of the day while echoing the presence of life within it and the continuity of unnoticed care. In the work, the trees intertwine, leaning on supports to form a monumental veil, onto which a dual quality is projected: at once a screen that shields from the outside and a protective layer that safeguards itself. The implements of care dispersed across the composition evoke invisible labor and delicate effort, intensifying the density of the relationship between humans and nature. The artist directs a compassionate gaze toward the beings that persist within the urban environment, quietly rendering the aesthetic of the city’s ecology shaped by imperfect coexistence.
In A Stroll in the Night Garden (2025), densely clustered trees in the foreground form a solid wall, forming an independent ecosystem in and of themselves. The meticulously rendered leaves and branches articulate a dense interconnectedness among living forms, while the formal variation arising from the interplay between the sharp linearity of conifers and the supple curvature of broadleaf trees animates the composition with ecological vitality. The nocturnal scene shaped by the contrast between artificial and natural light is particularly striking. The streetlight’s artificial glow renders the strangely unfamiliar texture of trees, recalling the physical overlap of the urban environment and nature, while the subtle gradations of moonlight above enfold these heterogeneous worlds into a single frame. The fence and supports that cut across the trees carry a dual meaning of containment and protection, which the artist aligns with a vertical orientation to serve as an element that secures the composition’s formal balance. The birds that move freely between fantasy and reality lend a graceful rhythm to the still landscape, awakening the forest’s cycles. Composed of a restrained palette and precise brushwork, the nocturnal forest becomes a contemplative passage, where we encounter the breath of lives that quietly hold its place behind the clamor of the city.
Veiled Forest (2024) frames the forest as a protected interior using the horizontally unfurling flow of draped cloth serving as both a stage and a sheltered space. Upon the semi-translucent silk surface, the precisely arranged trees disclose the order of a cultivated garden rather than the wildness of nature, and, together with the fantastically formed rocks and fountain in the background, give rise to a surreal atmosphere. Moving beyond the mere representation of the forest, the work advances toward the construction of an ideal site of repose where humans and nature exist in harmony. Meanwhile, Sky in the Garden (2012), capturing a view of the sky from the center of the garden, marks a pivotal moment that initiates the artist’s sustained exploration of materiality. The rocks filling the periphery and the contours of the branches form a lyrical veil that guides the viewer into nature. At the center of the composition, the circular opening of the sky creates a visual breathing space within the forest, infusing the entire scene with a sense of atmosphere. In doing so, the artist expands the work into an ‘experiential field’ in which nature is apprehended through the body, amplifying the underlying narrative flowing within the work.
We stand before Lim’s garden under moonlight. In the darkness, trees glow softly within an embracing space veiled in cloth, while another landscape shimmers faintly beyond the silk. This place reflects care and solidarity, an intimate space shaped by unnoticed forms of care around us. Within the garden, which folds and unfolds like drapery, we come to share a gaze with an unseen figure. This figure may be a gardener tending the trees, ourselves, or a being beyond the visible world. Lim traces the unnoticed presence of care embedded in everyday life and invites us into this garden as a space for personal reflection on ourselves as beings who live side by side, sustained by one another. This exhibition momentarily suspends a city absorbed in speed, proposing instead a slow journey through which we may form new relationships with the unnoticed forms of care. At the end of this journey, one hopes to slowly sense the warmth of solidarity woven by imperfect beings.
Seungyong Jeon, Chief Curator
Translation Jiyae Oh