Notes on movement

On a sunny summer’s day in the Hamptons, New York, I met Jin Meyerson for the first time. Our encounter was brief but left a large imprint. Jin is based in South Korea and I divide my time between New York and Paris, so physically we are oceans apart, but spiritually I have felt a natural proximity between us ever since. 
    Perhaps because Jin and I have both suffered from the absence of close family members. I lost my beloved younger brother, who had leukemia. Jin was left with a sense of abandonment following his adoption. When I feel unsettled, I tend to search for the familiar. To encounter someone who seems to live with the same type of pain, evokes, within me, a feeling of comfort and familiarity. 
    The dialogue between Jin and me, which has been intense and ongoing despite the geographical distance between us, has taught me new ways of looking at art. My comprehension of the delicate details of artistic works, by Jin as well as other artists, would not have been what it is, were it not for our deep and complex conversations.

The Invention of Zero 1
, 2016

Jin’s works are a neverending story. His lines channel radical movement and energy. If we follow them, we don’t end up at a set destination, rather with a story which unfolds, and which can take us to many different places. The variations in marks, colors, and textures create endless possibilities of symbolic meaning. 
    I see the movement of the lines as a gesture of severance – an illustration of a soul cut off from its origins, thrown into a world of darkness and solitude. I see in these lines the spirit of a tree separated from its roots, lost and far from the paths that could lead back home. 
    The paintings speak of Jin’s remarkable draftsmanship when it comes to oil, and more specifically of a great knowledge of the relationship between oil and canvas, of how the paint moves over the underlying surface, and how this movement is affected by the thickness of the paint, and the rhythm of the brush strokes.

Velvet Revolution
, 2016

As I’ve gotten to know Jin, and his works, I have defined three pivotal characteristics of his oeuvre, what I see as making up his artistic voice: 
    Firstly, Jin’s paintings require a high degree of mental effort, and intense attention to fine details, while emanating from a complex and powerful physical effort, the movement through which he creates his artistic landscapes.
    Secondly, I see Jin’s intellectual approach to life, his reading and constant search for knowledge, as a basis of his artistic works. His intellectual awareness leads to a certain attentiveness, which makes him take in his surroundings and give him the capacity to transform it into something that, to me, is utterly truthful in its expression. 
    Thirdly, Jin’s emotional intelligence, his capacity to feel, provides psychological depth to his paintings. It is this element that creates the intensity in his pieces, which I have always found so captivating.

No Direction Home,

Jin Meyerson: Notes on movement was written by Cecilia Dupire on the occasion of the joint exhibition Two-fold, curated by Cecilia Dupire and featuring works by Jin Meyerson and Anders Krisár.