[Gallery Walk] A Body Lying Beneath the Wall, a Fish Hanging Out of Water

Group Exhibition "Soft Displacements" at Mayeriger Wolf Seoul
Katinka Bock, Miriam Cahn, and Three Others Capture a Sense of Instability
Moments When Objects and Bodies Are Displaced from Their Places

There is a round object lying beneath the wall. At first glance, it looks like a piece of wood. Upon closer inspection, it resembles a head, a body pressed down over time, or even a stone that failed to roll away. The bricks are neatly stacked, and the sky is clear. Yet the object at the bottom of the frame feels unsettled—not because it is unrecognizable, but because it can be interpreted in so many ways. In front of Santiago de Paoli's "Solo and Bricks," the viewer's gaze is repeatedly drawn downwards.

Santiago de Paoli_Solo and Bricks_2020. Mayerieg Wolf Seoul

The group exhibition "Soft Displacements," held at Mayeriger Wolf Seoul in Yongsan-gu, Seoul, begins with this sense of instability. This exhibition brings together works by Katinka Bock, Miriam Cahn, Eva Kotatkova, Isa Melsheimer, and Santiago de Paoli. The bodies depicted in the exhibition never remain whole; they are folded or cut, suspended or partially placed within structures. Architecture, which should be solid, becomes loose, and everyday objects bear the weight of unfamiliar emotions. The body does not only appear as a human figure. It becomes fabric, wall, ceramic, or a thin piece of bronze placed on the floor.

Displacement here is not a grand escape. In this context, objects are only slightly out of place. The fish is out of water, the hand's intention—whether to reach out or block—remains ambiguous, and architecture no longer stands as a rigid structure. "Soft" does not mean comfortable. While fabric, felt, ceramics, wire, and bronze may appear fragile, they instead tighten around the body, cling to memories, and reveal the surface of wounds.

The first thing to grasp the body is the hand. Two hands are raised toward the viewer. The palms are open, but they do not suggest a welcoming gesture. It could be a defensive posture or a gesture awaiting contact. The face is pale, the eyes wide open. The mouth is open, but no words come out. This is Miriam Cahn's "At Eye Level, July 16, 2015." Cahn is an artist who has long explored the senses of the body, violence, gender, and war. In this painting as well, the body is not an object of beauty; it is a site of collision with the world. Reaction arrives before expression.

Eva Kotatkova 'Inside the Body of a Fish That Came Out of Water: Fish Classroom Series'. Mayer Guggenheim Seoul

Next, the body appears in the form of a fish, hanging in the air. The fish on the red fabric does not swim. It is out of water, its body punctured, and a white line runs across it like a suture. What first seems cute quickly becomes discomforting. Eva Kotatkova's "Inside the Body of a Fish Out of Water: Fish Classroom Series" blurs the boundary between protection and control. Kotatkova has dealt with beings placed in vulnerable positions within institutions, such as children, the elderly, and animals. This fish, too, is less a protected being than a body categorized, educated, and exhibited.

Moving down to the floor, architecture also begins to resemble a body. The low ceramic structures are initially read as architectural models. Cones, cylinders, and low walls are arranged like parts of a small city. But up close, the sense of clay shaped by hand precedes any architectural order. In Isa Melsheimer's "Reservoir," architecture does not explain function; it is placed like an organ that wears down, grows, and transforms. The artist has explored the ideals of modernist architecture and how those ideals change in reality. Here, architecture is not a backdrop but another body.

_ . Mayerligerwolpe Seoul

The flattened forms linger the longest. Katinka Bock's "L-Flounder," placed close to the floor, looks like a fish or the trace left after something has passed. Bronze, a solid material, is pressed thin and silent. Bock's works rarely assert themselves forcefully; instead, they transform the space through the placement and weight of materials. After seeing this small sculpture, the floor of the exhibition space appears different—not simply as the place where the work rests, but as a site where something has disappeared.

Rather than sequentially presenting the names of five artists, the exhibition poses a single question through various materials: To what extent is the body a body? When does an object begin to resemble a body? How solid is architecture? Is a fish still a fish out of water? The questions are clear, but the answers are deferred. Instead, what remains in the exhibition space are things that have each lost their place, little by little.

"Soft Displacements" does not seize the audience's attention with a loud voice. There are holes, suture lines, the surface of clay, traces of pencil, and the shadow of flattened bronze—details visible only up close. The exhibition runs until August 8.

This content was produced with the assistance of AI translation services.