A MAN IN A DOT

“To live is to pass from one space to another. while trying your very best to bump voursell”

-Georges Perec, <Species of Space>, 1974

How many dots do you need to capture a person in a portrait? One is enough. In <S, M, L, XL>, all the audience has to do is carefully observe the dots drawn by Sean Jun Yeon. The dot is fixed in one place. I t is the observer's eye, not the dot, that is moving. The eyes move ceaselessly from one point to another, passing through the narrow gaps created by multiple dots, through the spaces carved out by those gaps, and finally reaching the emptiness where one can feel the texture and the material of the paper.

During the artist's school-days, 'space' existed for the sake of function or meant the function itself. His numerous sketches and drawings were blueprints for functional spaces, or volumes of complexity. While visual art is transforming into a more complicated 'space of possibility' by borrowing architectural elements, Sean Jun Yeon boldly discards all the elements that allow him to imagine architecture. So all that's left is pen and paper. That's enough. His drawings leave the 'world of possibilities' expressed through sketches, models, and renderings, and explore the smallest unit that makes up the world: perhaps even a micro-cosmos. As time passes, the repeated engraving of trust between the artist and the paper soon becomes an inner reflection. ln the end, his drawings exist as evidence of a artist's careful practice to reach the orlgln.

Sean Jun Yeon's drawing series deals with models and terrains rendered through accumulation of contemplation. The minimum unit in <S, M, L, XL> is a point, not a pixel. One dot calls out a new dot and they maintain a given distance so they never overlap. The material use of ink on paper creates immense tension amongst the dots; it cannot be erased or covered up. Largeness or smallness of the distance between the individual dots dictate the rhythm of the whole. The force between the dots soon turns to the distance between the work and the audience, making them wonder how much closer or far away they should observe the drawings.

Mark Rothko wanted his audiences to view his paintings at exactly 46 cm ( 18 inches). Sean Jun Yeon's work completely eliminates the invisible line that abstract art draws in front of the audience. The audience closely observes the space, like a cinematographer shooting a one-take film at various resolutions, and the closer they get, the more they can fully see the secret colors and shadows behind the dots. This intimate viewing distance not only shows the proximity between the artist and the medium, but also welcomes the viewer by informing that the viewer and the drawings are "closer than you think." <S, M, L, XL> is not a story about the size of hopes that will be created in the near future, but about the scale of visual narratives that are already complete. There is a dot on the paper. There is a man inside. We are already close.

Heejin Jang