Yunghun Yoo's latest exhibition, "Union Station," has taken over the 839 Gallery in Los Angeles, and it's a must-see for anyone familiar with Southern California's transportation system. The Korean-American artist weaves together a complex narrative of connection and parting through his bold, expressive paintings that traverse multiple themes.
For Yoo, trains represent more than just a mode of transportation; they embody the idea of heterotopia – spaces where societal norms are distorted and reflected in a new light. By capturing the slow pace of transfers, phantom platforms, and detours, Yoo paints a picture of liminal experiences that hover between two worlds.
One standout piece is "Exit Wound," a large abstract painting dominated by bright yellow hues, with layered brushstrokes radiating from a central crossing point. This work depicts a gunshot wound as landscape, with flesh splintering and twining into horizon lines – a powerful metaphor for the pain of parting with something that leaves a lasting mark.
In "8 (2)," another piece in the exhibition, Yoo experiments with opacity to capture the ephemerality of train rides. This small work features two columns of nebulous spheres bound together by faint ligatures of color, representing platform assignments subject to transpositions or reconfigurations. The painting's ambiguity is intentional, promising no reassurance that your train will arrive or take you closer to your destination.
Yoo's paintings also touch on the tension between representation and abstraction, often blurring the lines between the two. For instance, "Train II" features a cylindrical shape chugging along train tracks, but its landscape is reduced to monochromatic haze – an unsettling blend of reality and suggestion. Similarly, "Beach" is a self-portrait that doubles as a psychological sketch, with the artist's head stretched over a Vitruvian Man in a delicate balance between roasted and charred.
Ultimately, Yoo's work is about capturing the discomfort and euphoria that arise from movement and transition. His paintings are interstitial spaces where the body becomes another site of passage – never fixed but briefly and serendipitously encountered. By exploring these liminal experiences, Yoo invites viewers to consider the complex web of connections that shape our lives, even as we move through the world at breakneck speed.
The 839 Gallery's exhibition space has also played a crucial role in enhancing Yoo's thesis. The Southern California transportation system is juxtaposed against the surrounding landscape – trains hovering over kitchen sinks, railway signals beside an empty telephone niche – creating a sense of disorientation and wonder. As you navigate this exhibition, it becomes clear that Yoo's work is not just about trains but about the human experience of connection and parting in our increasingly complex world.
For Yoo, trains represent more than just a mode of transportation; they embody the idea of heterotopia – spaces where societal norms are distorted and reflected in a new light. By capturing the slow pace of transfers, phantom platforms, and detours, Yoo paints a picture of liminal experiences that hover between two worlds.
One standout piece is "Exit Wound," a large abstract painting dominated by bright yellow hues, with layered brushstrokes radiating from a central crossing point. This work depicts a gunshot wound as landscape, with flesh splintering and twining into horizon lines – a powerful metaphor for the pain of parting with something that leaves a lasting mark.
In "8 (2)," another piece in the exhibition, Yoo experiments with opacity to capture the ephemerality of train rides. This small work features two columns of nebulous spheres bound together by faint ligatures of color, representing platform assignments subject to transpositions or reconfigurations. The painting's ambiguity is intentional, promising no reassurance that your train will arrive or take you closer to your destination.
Yoo's paintings also touch on the tension between representation and abstraction, often blurring the lines between the two. For instance, "Train II" features a cylindrical shape chugging along train tracks, but its landscape is reduced to monochromatic haze – an unsettling blend of reality and suggestion. Similarly, "Beach" is a self-portrait that doubles as a psychological sketch, with the artist's head stretched over a Vitruvian Man in a delicate balance between roasted and charred.
Ultimately, Yoo's work is about capturing the discomfort and euphoria that arise from movement and transition. His paintings are interstitial spaces where the body becomes another site of passage – never fixed but briefly and serendipitously encountered. By exploring these liminal experiences, Yoo invites viewers to consider the complex web of connections that shape our lives, even as we move through the world at breakneck speed.
The 839 Gallery's exhibition space has also played a crucial role in enhancing Yoo's thesis. The Southern California transportation system is juxtaposed against the surrounding landscape – trains hovering over kitchen sinks, railway signals beside an empty telephone niche – creating a sense of disorientation and wonder. As you navigate this exhibition, it becomes clear that Yoo's work is not just about trains but about the human experience of connection and parting in our increasingly complex world.