Context for Unit 2

Exhibition 1

Recent exhibition "Walk the House" in TATE condenses Do Ho Suh’s decades-long exploration of “home” into a visceral, immersive experience. The exhibition dissects the interplay of space, memory, and the body, translating intimate narratives into architectural forms that viewers navigate physically and emotionally.

At its core lies a series of ethereal, semi-transparent fabric structures—exact replicas of domestic spaces from the artist’s life. Meticulously stitched from colored gauze, these ghostly rooms immortalize mundane details: doorknobs, light switches, window frames. Each hue corresponds to the country of origin of the object it represents, weaving a chromatic “map of displacement” that charts Suh’s global migrations. These spaces transcend mere reconstruction; they become tactile archives of memory, where every stitch holds a story.

The fragility of the gauze transforms architecture into something tender and ephemeral. To walk through these rooms is to brush against the residue of lived moments—a kitchen’s warmth preserved in pink polyester, a hallway’s shadows captured in blue mesh. Suh’s minimalist approach distills the emotional weight of belonging into spatial poetry. By rendering walls as permeable membranes, he redefines “home” not as fixed geography but as a fluid, ever-reconfiguring state of mind.

The exhibition quietly interrogates identity in an age of global transience. Like a three-dimensional diary, it mirrors the fragmented selves we assemble across borders—a testament to how “home” persists as both an ache and an act of reinvention. Suh’s delicate fabric architectures, hovering between presence and absence, remind us that belonging is less about roots than the courage to carry our inner landscapes wherever we drift.

Exhibition 2

Last week, I visited Photo London 2025 at Somerset House. True to Photo London's consistent tradition, the majority of participating galleries showed little change from previous editions. Similarly, the artists presented by these galleries were mostly familiar faces. Given its commercial nature, maintaining a consistent sales approach is necessary. That said, I did come across several impressive artworks—though I’ve already completely forgotten the artists’ names. One Japanese artist, for instance, painted on ceramic or wooden surfaces, then applied a silver gelatin process to transfer floral photographs onto the material. The result was fascinating and remarkably effective. Another artist transferred images onto clay or ceramic tiles, then shattered and reassembled the pieces, achieving a physically fragmented effect in both the image and the material itself. It was quite inspiring and worth studying. While the fair largely adhered to its usual format, these standout works offered a refreshing contrast. The Japanese artist’s technique, in particular, blurred the boundaries between photography and traditional craft, creating a delicate yet striking visual texture. Meanwhile, the fragmented ceramic pieces played with the idea of destruction and reconstruction, adding a layer of conceptual depth to the photographic medium. Overall, Photo London 2025 was a mix of predictability and pleasant surprises. Though the commercial framework remains rigid, there were still glimpses of innovation worth appreciating—even if the artists’ names didn’t stick in my memory.

Exhibition 3

Katy Moran’s show at Pippy Houldsworth Gallery included both monumental pieces and intimate smaller works. Her paintings—built up through dense layers of color and strokes from brushes of differing sizes—felt alive with gesture and texture. The contrast in scale and technique made the exhibition particularly compelling, leaving me with much to absorb and study.