KIM Inbai: A Man Asleep: SOLO EXHIBITION

Spanning all exhibition spaces of the gallery, this large-scale presentation marks KIM’s first solo exhibition at ARARIO GALLERY SEOUL in 12 years. The exhibition highlights approximately 29 new sculptures and two-dimensional works that translate the artist’s enduring exploration of the sensation of 'absence' through a sculptural methodology. Drawing inspiration from Georges Perec’s novel A Man Asleep (Un homme qui dort), the exhibition sheds light on the 'unbridgeable gap' between the gaze that attempts to capture a subject and its actual existence. Just as the narrator in the novel obsessively observes 'you' yet ultimately fails to grasp the subject in its entirety, KIM focuses on the subtle discrepancies that inevitably arise the moment a subject is defined by a single form and meaning. By materializing the spatial gap between the signifier and the signified, he poses a fundamental question: "What does it mean to see what is not there?" Beyond the clearly revealed forms before our eyes, the exhibition presents the sensation of 'absence' existing in between, realized through independent sculptural practices across each floor.

The first floor exhibition space translates the unbridgeable psychological distance between the narrator and the protagonist in Georges Perec's novel into a sculptural act. To address the gap that widens the more one attempts to define the subject, KIM established a hypothetical situation where vision is completely blocked. He imagined a scenario in which he inserts only his two hands into a completely dark box, sculpting forms relying solely on his senses, and utilized this as the starting point for his work. While the masses sculpted without sight are accompanied by formal errors, such as crushed or elongated, twisted torsos and bizarrely depicted heads with curly hair, KIM focuses instead on the imaginative trajectory of endlessly reaching out toward an unseen subject and the very process of the act itself. Organically placed throughout the space are works that expand upon these unfamiliar sensations, such as Gripping and Opening (2026), which overlooks the room like a sensory organ, and the sculptures Big Motion 1, 2 (2026), which dramatically highlight physical distance and differences in scale.

The basement exhibition space appropriates the concepts of vanishing points and perspective, drawing the visually most distant, virtual point into a blatant act of 'touching.' A-Frame Ladder (2026), which reveals the physically severed tip of an unreachable vanishing point, and Touching Perspective (2026), which conjures the illusion of perspective through absolute adhesion without even a millimeter of a gap, paradoxically manifest the rules of perspective—which require distance to function—through the act of eliminating distance and touching. Furthermore, Pillar of Light (2026), which translates aerial perspective into three dimensions by rubbing oil sticks over a multifaceted framework, similarly reduces visual distance into tactile materiality. Double Imitation (2026), a relief sculpture modeling the unbridgeable gap where the inside and outside obsessively mimic each other, demonstrates through sculptural practice the gap found in the novel, where one struggles to overlap subjects that can never fully touch.

Using the motif of dotted lines on a road, the third-floor exhibition space dismantles the physical boundaries of the room and materializes virtual lines. The dotted line in the center of a road separates moving vehicles while simultaneously permitting them to cross at any time; KIM brings this concept into the gallery space. Cast by placing modeling clay over actual road lanes and stepping on it to capture the rough texture of the asphalt like a rubbing, the sculptures of Broken Yellow Line (2026) are arranged in a straight line at regular intervals. This arrangement completely ignores the massive physical barrier presented by the third floor's only temporary wall structure, stubbornly maintaining its original trajectory by penetrating through the wall. The physical boundary of the temporary wall is thus neutralized by KIM’s virtual line-drawing. Additionally, a thick black line encircling the bottom of the white wall serves as a baseline, inducing an optical illusion that makes the entire space appear to float in mid-air.

The fourth-floor exhibition space materializes the sense of discrepancy embedded in Georges Perec’s autobiographical novel, bringing it into the realm of human relationships. Originating from a narration in which 'two men of identical appearance' converse in an attempt to draw the exact same image, Same Picture (2026) demonstrates how a pursuit predicated on perfect unity paradoxically engenders a divide. This preceding communicative process carries over into Cutting Sculpture (2026), translating into a three-dimensional act where two individuals slice through clay together. Despite their efforts to derive the exact same shape, the cut surfaces reveal differences. However, the physical thickness left in between becomes volume, transforming this trajectory into a completely new three-dimensional outcome. The traces of time spent desperately reaching out to one another amid the daunting inability to fully grasp the subject resonate deeply with the relationship between the narrator and the protagonist in the novel, who could never perfectly overlap.