Yunghun Yoo's latest exhibition, "Union Station," offers a haunting exploration of the spaces that connect and disconnect us. In his abstract paintings, Yoo distills the essence of Southern California's transportation system, transforming it into a series of liminal zones where passengers are suspended between departure and arrival.
With bold brushstrokes and vibrant colors, Yoo recreates the sensation of being on a train, where the boundaries between self and other, past and present, blur. His works evoke the feeling of disorientation that comes with navigating the complex networks of Union Station, where trains seem to disappear into the horizon like threads in a tapestry.
At the heart of Yoo's practice lies an interest in the concept of heterotopia – a space without a place, where societal norms are both distorted and distilled. For Yoo, Union Station is such a space, a nexus of connections that also separates us from our destinations. His paintings capture this sense of disorientation, rendering the slow, circuitous routes that pass through Union Station as "blood flowing through coronary arteries."
In works like "Exit Wound," Yoo depicts the carnage left by a gunshot as landscape, with flesh splintering and twining into horizon lines. This painting is both a commentary on the violence of parting ways and a celebration of the spaces that connect us – even in our moments of departure.
Other paintings, such as "8(2)" and "Train II," further explore this theme of connection and disconnection. In "8(2)," two columns of nebulous spheres bound together by faint ligatures suggest platform assignments subject to transpositions or reconfiguration. Meanwhile, "Train II" features a cylindrical shape chugging along train tracks, its points of perspective askew, like the blurred lines between representation and implication.
One of Yoo's most striking works is "Beach," a self-portrait that blurs the boundaries between Vitruvian Man and psychological sketch. The painting's soft pink rectangular fields dominate the center, intersected by dark smoky marks and bright yellow lines – a dynamic, cross-like structure that conveys a sense of movement and tension.
Ultimately, Yoo's work is an invitation to experience the spaces that connect us – even in our moments of disorientation. His paintings are never fixed but serendipitously encountered, like the fleeting connections we make on the move. As he himself notes, "The line between representation and figuration gets blurry for me sometimes," reflecting his ongoing quest to capture the fluidity of human experience in all its beauty and complexity.
With bold brushstrokes and vibrant colors, Yoo recreates the sensation of being on a train, where the boundaries between self and other, past and present, blur. His works evoke the feeling of disorientation that comes with navigating the complex networks of Union Station, where trains seem to disappear into the horizon like threads in a tapestry.
At the heart of Yoo's practice lies an interest in the concept of heterotopia – a space without a place, where societal norms are both distorted and distilled. For Yoo, Union Station is such a space, a nexus of connections that also separates us from our destinations. His paintings capture this sense of disorientation, rendering the slow, circuitous routes that pass through Union Station as "blood flowing through coronary arteries."
In works like "Exit Wound," Yoo depicts the carnage left by a gunshot as landscape, with flesh splintering and twining into horizon lines. This painting is both a commentary on the violence of parting ways and a celebration of the spaces that connect us – even in our moments of departure.
Other paintings, such as "8(2)" and "Train II," further explore this theme of connection and disconnection. In "8(2)," two columns of nebulous spheres bound together by faint ligatures suggest platform assignments subject to transpositions or reconfiguration. Meanwhile, "Train II" features a cylindrical shape chugging along train tracks, its points of perspective askew, like the blurred lines between representation and implication.
One of Yoo's most striking works is "Beach," a self-portrait that blurs the boundaries between Vitruvian Man and psychological sketch. The painting's soft pink rectangular fields dominate the center, intersected by dark smoky marks and bright yellow lines – a dynamic, cross-like structure that conveys a sense of movement and tension.
Ultimately, Yoo's work is an invitation to experience the spaces that connect us – even in our moments of disorientation. His paintings are never fixed but serendipitously encountered, like the fleeting connections we make on the move. As he himself notes, "The line between representation and figuration gets blurry for me sometimes," reflecting his ongoing quest to capture the fluidity of human experience in all its beauty and complexity.