[Gallery Walk] The More We Try to See at Once, The More Is Lost

Hamyanga Solo Exhibition "Undefined Panorama" at Art Sonje Center

Returning Disaster, Hunger, and AI to the Body Beyond the Numbers

The ashes of a made-up person are scattered over the sea. Time flows in reverse, moving from funeral to birth, while the end of the Cold War, financial crises, the pandemic, and the rise of artificial intelligence are superimposed. Hamyanga's new work, "Undefined Panorama 4.0," layers the life of a single individual and fifty years of world history into a 22-minute, eight-channel video.

Hamyanga's solo exhibition "Undefined Panorama" features the installation "Undefined Panorama 4.0" (2026). It superimposes scenes of politics, economy, technology, and crowds onto a circular screen, revealing the complex network of relationships in modern society. Art Sonje Center

Hamyanga’s solo exhibition "Undefined Panorama," currently on view at Art Sonje Center in Samcheong-dong, Jongno-gu, Seoul, begins with the questions that have preoccupied the artist since the Sewol ferry disaster. What remains for the individual—the body and emotions—when a social system collapses? The show brings together new works and major pieces from the ongoing project of the same name, which started in 2018.

Visitors stand inside a circular structure on the second floor of Art Sonje Center. The screen stretches 360 degrees, but it is impossible to see all the scenes at once. While facing the pandemic unfolding in front of them, the financial markets are collapsing behind their backs, and turning their heads, they miss someone else’s death. The panoramic view that attempts to show the whole world instead reveals just how limited human vision actually is.

In "Sleep" (2015–2016), people lie on the gymnasium floor in rows. A space normally intended for public health becomes a shelter, makeshift accommodation, and a place of control in times of disaster. The boundaries blur between protector and observer, between victim and overseer. Institutions save lives, but at the same time classify and arrange bodies.

Hamyanga does not see disasters as exceptional accidents. Instead, she traces the ordinary structures that only become visible after catastrophe strikes: Who gets rescued first? Whose pain is recorded? Which sacrifices are dismissed as unavoidable costs? The system remains invisible when functioning normally, but reveals its logic in the moment of breakdown.

"Starvation 2.0" addresses a world where people still starve despite food abundance. According to United Nations statistics, while hundreds of millions suffer from hunger globally, over 1 billion tons of food are discarded each year from homes, restaurants, and retailers. What is lacking is not the total amount of food, but the money to buy it, the system to distribute it, and the right to eat safely. Hunger, in this context, is not a natural phenomenon but the result of distribution.

The same is true for labor and technology. According to the International Labour Organization, the share of world income going to workers has declined over the past two decades. While the artificial intelligence market is growing rapidly, profits and technology are concentrated among a few companies and countries. Technology is said to lighten everyone’s workload, but for some it translates into higher productivity, while for others it leads to lost jobs and dwindling expertise.

Hamyanga brings such enormous statistics back to the level of the body: Who has been unable to sleep, who has gone hungry, who has collapsed unable to keep up with the pace? If statistics record the scale of suffering, art retrieves the erased faces and movements lost behind the numbers.

Ham Yang-a's solo exhibition "Undefined Panorama" includes the installation "Listening Speaker, Speaking Other" (2026). It unfolds private monologues recorded by participants from around the world on multiple screens, showing the process of how individual voices connect into a collective narrative. Art Sonje Center

On the third floor, "Listening Speaker, Speaking Other" disperses grand history into the voices of many individuals. A Palestinian woman who left Gaza, a young person enduring extreme heat, and an artist staging ecological theater each speak their experiences into their mobile phones. The artist calls this an "archive of emotion." Wikipedia may record events and dates, but the fears of those who lived through those times are rarely preserved.

Yet, bringing testimony into the museum does not automatically create solidarity. Audiences may listen to one person’s war experience for a few minutes before moving to the next screen. Pain risks becoming just another piece of content. Overlaying the Cold War, the financial crisis, the pandemic, and AI on the same screen can also flatten distinct tragedies into a grand image.

This may be why Hamyanga leaves the phrase "undefined" in the titles of her works. Rather than proclaiming a full explanation of the world, she acknowledges that no single perspective can encompass it all. The viewer stands at the center of the circle, but does not become omniscient. There will always be something missed from the field of view.

What this exhibition asks for is not a grand answer. It simply urges viewers to take their eyes off the scene in front of them for a moment, and turn their bodies toward what they have not seen. Statistics describe just how broken the world is. Hamyanga’s works focus on the individuals who are more easily erased when the numbers are more precise.

Even after circling the round screen, the world cannot be seen at a glance. Perhaps, recognizing that failure is where truly seeing society begins. The exhibition runs until October 4 at Art Sonje Center in Jongno-gu, Seoul.

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