The candle, reduced to the fulcrum of its consumption, is confined within a deliberately restricted frame. Were there specific limitations Lee imposed during the painting process? From a curatorial perspective, how does this spatial constraint mirror the work itself?
Reilly: It’s definitely a cliche, but there’s always the potential for constraints to breed invention. By paring down the exhibition mode to a very specific set of terms, one can lock in at every turn. For Sfumato, we discussed the particularities of the small space, the unending visibility of the work, its location in Antwerp, and how this all brushes up against Gowoon’s practice. It really feels like a stage, and we completely doubled down on this.
Gowoon: Yes, I imposed several constraints from the outset, which became central to how the work took shape. The candle is already a self-consuming object, so I wanted to echo that fragility through formal limits—a tightly cropped frame, a restrained palette, and a small scale. Everything was pared down to the edge of disappearance. My goal as a painter is to hold the image in suspension, like a held breath. Within that narrow range, I focus on subtle tensions—light, texture, presence versus erasure. The restrictions didn’t feel limiting; they acted more like a kind of fence, something to push against. I think that ultimately helped intensify the imageand it aligned well with the space, since the painting was created specifically for this project
Lee often “pokes holes in the plot,” and some works are completed in a single session. What kinds of ritual or instinct inform the act of painting? And how are these processes translated into the viewer’s experience through the exhibition’s spatial choices?
Gowoon: I work wet-on-wet partly because it forces me to commit. Everything has to happen in one cue. There’s no going back, no layering over. It’s the most direct and honest way I’ve found to get the image out of my head and onto the canvas without filtering or overthinking. That immediacy matters to me because it keeps the painting instinctual. I finished Candle Lit in one sitting. There’s a kind of ritual in that urgency that I’m drawn to. I show up, see the image clearly in my mind, and try to meet it with the brush in real time.
The painting employs sfumato to soften contours, producing a haze reminiscent of airbrushed animation. What draws you to this kind of evanescence? What is the power of working with undefined lines?
Gowoon: What draws me to this kind of evanescence is its ability to hold ambiguity, something I’ve long been fascinated by, especially through the lens of Korean euphemistic language. In Korean, meaning often floats between what is spoken and what is left unsaid. There is a quiet elegance in that indirectness. It isn’t about avoiding the truth, but about allowing space for multiple interpretations and emotional nuance.
The use of sfumato and soft, undefined lines reflects that sensibility. It allows an image to breathe and to suggest rather than state. That softness reminds me of the old tube TV I grew up with, where nothing ever appeared completely sharp. The edges always seemed to glow, with a gentle blur that created its own atmosphere. That visual texture wasn’t a limitation. It was a kind of invitation to imagine more.
Working with these hazy contours lets me capture the same tension between clarity and suggestion. It gives form to what is sensed rather than fully seen, and to the beauty of things that resist easy definition.
Given the painting’s close focus and delicate treatment of form, do you see any conversation between the stillness of Dutch master techniques?
Reilly: For sure, and this is something we spoke about while planning the exhibition. When art is in conversation with its context, a new charge is able to take place. To be showing a work like this in the midst of the local collections and history of place, a real site-specificity takes shape. Gowoon is 100% aware of what she inherits by way of painting’s past, but she isn’t limited by it. She renews its potential over and over again.
