I dreamt of pancakes last night

This morning I had an egg, sunny side up, smiling at the moon
It reminded me of you.

I know man does not live on bread alone, but still, I wanna break bread with you.
I’ve been thinking about bread –as sustenance, as communion...
as flesh and feelings...

As gift and remembrance.
I’ve been making bread pieces in my room: soaking them in color, baking them in air, breathing
them in light.

Some days I think they look like tombstones covered in moss, and other days, celestial artifacts
from a different time.

But really, they are just utterances of my heart, manifest as impressions left by my hands,
affectionately.

To me, they spill and bleed like confessional poems. They are vessels of hope and promises
accumulated over time...
Perhaps their presence stands as placeholders for memories –fragments recalling a specific
place and time.

Sometimes pretending to be an archaeologist intuitively archiving specimen,
Or a baker concocting unique pastries for someone I adore...
Most of the time I’m just a child in wonder, making diaristic symbols.

And here I am, worried about my daily bread.
While forming bread, here I am hoping in the bread of life.

So I grew this bed of flowers, tracing each and every passing, staying thought.
Because all of them are special.
Because Today’s Special.

-Calvin 소망 Kim (2020)



 INTERVIEW:

Simon Tosky:

Can you take us through how the bread arose?

Calvin 소망 Kim:

It actually came out of a need. 

Well, if we’re talking about the first bread form that emerged in my work, it was back in 2018. I was painting in the  garage with the door open and witnessed the last moments of a dying sparrow on my driveway. It was flopped over, feet pointing to the sky, its pulse ever so faintly slowing.  I felt kind of helpless. I mean, I didn’t know what to do and didn’t quite fully grasp what was happening, so I began painting it. I thought I could at least honor the bird’s last moments.

And when it took its  last breath–you see, that was my first encounter with death–it really shook me. I wanted to give it a burial so I went in to grab some gloves, but when I came back out, it was already gone. I mean I definitely saw it die in front of me... So I was left with this painting of a dead bird and feeling quite foolish, sad, and in wonder.

I had to go through some process of mourning and decided to give her a burial through the painting. I had some clay lying around in my studio and I made a little tombstone for her, but it looked more like bread.

But I only really began to make these bread pieces more intentionally the past year. I became frustrated with painting on canvas. I was making work that suggested narrative –painting hands that were touching, pointing, promising, conjuring... Some of those hand paintings, the ones you see in the show, are more representational and illustrative. I soon realized I wanted a painting to not illustrate but rather feel how I felt making them. I wanted to physically  hold something–to form it in real space. Make something raw and emotive–like cooking up something from inside of myself. The heart of a painting if you will—like if you split open a painting, this is the organ.

I bought magic model clay, a playful and forgiving material I remember using as a child. I just started making forms, but it's strange that the hands, or my hands,  gravitated towards a kind of symmetry and pairing, although imperfectly. It just naturally happened that I made another bread, or at least that’s how I saw it. It was like this clumsy heart-shaped thing. I kept making one after another as if searching for the right shape, but I soon realized I was more interested in their varying articulations.

I began to see connections and influences of the idea of bread in my personal life. I wanted to impress a girl who was into baking and I thought, why not “bake” up something in the studio for her you know, that’s out of this world. But they also come from this idea of communion–an act of confession and remembrance.  It was this idea of ‘daily bread’ symbolically representing and reflecting my day to day. So this physical thing I was making was very much tied to emotional and spiritual aspects for me. I realize a lot of what I do in my practice is a rehearsal for life.

I go through this process of soaking them and washing them in color–dying and renewing them, wanting them to accumulate time and feelings.. This continuous process of discovery and meaning-making is what I’m drawn to. They look as if they are decaying with the teeming matter of the earth and simultaneously as if they are celestial seeds in growth. There’s a certain familiarity to their strangeness for me. 

I sometimes impress them upon a surface of my immediate surroundings, or pour the wine I’m drinking on them in hopes that somehow they will be imbued with my thoughts and experiences of that present moment.

When I’m making these, I’m in awe of how the different mediums pool on the surfaces, learning how the sediments interact and settle. There’s a lot of examining and reflecting while they’re drying out in the sun... I’m also praying sometimes, or thinking of someone, or mentally making a list of groceries I have to buy. The process is very organic in that sense, like the cycle of a day.

And with the coming and going of people in my life I realized I was just left in my room with all this bread that I never had the chance to physically share with the people I love.

Simon Tosky:

Memory is a big theme in your work. I enjoyed how a lot of paintings key in on  that, and as a viewer I can place myself within these memories that aren't mine. Whether it's looking through a window or looking down at a  picnic spread you made. It's very interactive. In a way you've  circumvented the need for figuration in most of the works, you've broken  a barrier between viewer and painting. There is a connectedness to it  all, and multiple avenues of communication.

Calvin 소망 Kim:

You’re totally right –we tend to think of memory as something of the past, but it’s a very visceral process that takes place in the present. I also appreciate how you talk about the idea of breaking a barrier between viewer and painting. I do believe we were created to be relational beings and so I do try to reflect that in my work. What’s the point of painting if it does not break barriers and boundaries, transcending time and space.

Simon Tosky:

I'd also like to  know a bit more about the paintings in the show. They have an  extraordinary amount of textures and the shapes of the works themselves are non traditional. How are you physically constructing these works?

Calvin 소망 Kim:

Yes, texture is something that I’ve been trying to introduce in my work slowly and steadily. I wanted these new works to be felt visually as well as emotionally.

The textures are simply a remnant of the history of the different materials I’m using. I’m trying to use materials more economically, using what’s readily around me, especially with the pandemic. I’m repurposing used materials to become new ingredients for my paintings. I’m also planning these paintings less and working directly on them–moving and adding elements intuitively. I’ve really come to enjoy this intimacy by using my hands to manipulate and move around materials without having to rely so much on the brush.

My mother once told me “a good cook is someone who makes a tasty dish with a good heart and whatever they have.” 

I have been collecting ingredients around me and preparing them. I am cutting scraps of paper and putting them in the blender to make pulp. I am carefully excavating dried paint that’s been collecting dust in Chobani yogurt cups that I used to mix my colors in. My old undershirts that became oil rags are now surfaces I work on instead of canvas. The Styrofoam that once packed some old paintings are now beds to embed the breads in. It's kind of like giving the paintings a heart, or giving the heart a home to rest. There’s a breaking down and building up of materials. I see this coming together of different elements to form a whole as intimate and wondrous. This death and rebirth of material is transformative and deeply emotional for me.  It implies the past of what they once were, and renews them with new purpose and life.

Their scale allows for me to treat them like a dish. I have this silly notion that the pinch of glitter I sprinkle on the paintings will somehow add to their sweetness. The idea of making faces with leftover food is also something I’ve been thinking about lately–we are always thinking about someone.

I also think they look heavier than they appear, but they’re actually really light. They’re really small and intimate. Like bedside paintings or something you keep under a pillow. 

Simon Tosky:

I'm really  interested in how Christianity is embedded into your practice as an artist. As a pretty noncommittal Jew myself, I feel like I'm often  battling with the thoughts of committing to a more religious outlook on  things while also struggling to deal with the more chaotic realms of  reality.

Calvin 소망 Kim:

Brokenness, love, hope, and redemption are definitely something my work centers around, although not explicitly. I don’t believe I’ve ever really addressed my Christian faith in the context of art; I always believed it was kind of taboo talking about it in art, but I think that’s just my own fears and insecurities. So I really appreciate your question. 

For me, faith and art go hand in hand. It’s a constant tension of going to battle and a struggle in letting myself go to trust in something other than myself. It’s an active engagement that I often fail daily. But there is grace–in both making and living. And within this struggle are moments of peace. It’s a continuous step for me –a walk towards forever. I’m realizing more and more I can’t do it alone.

Now I'm not saying I’m always feeling positive and that the world is perfect–it’s not. Death, injustice, heartbreak are all present realities that need to be faced, and it gets me down. I feel pain, anger, regret... I'm not perfect but I’m able to keep hope of being carried through despite the circumstances because I believe that an infinite being entered into our physical reality to commune with and live the perfect life I never could—its in this love I find life in and try to live my life through.

Simon Tosky:

I was inspired when you chose "Today's Special" as the  show title. I thought what a great way to look at time -- there's a lot  of time -- often I'm trying to almost pass through to the other side of  it. The title made me wonder, are things always as bad as I think they  are? 

Calvin 소망 Kim:

“Today’s Special” was a way for me to remind myself  by professing a truth, and kind of whispering sweetly that everyday is indeed special.

It came from thinking of these paintings being something cooked up that can be visually consumed.  I think it's interesting to think of painting as daily sustenance for the artist, and simultaneously something that is made for someone. 

 And like you said, it can also be taken as a mundane statement, 'today is special', and I find that quite beautiful. 

So yes, whether it's a good day or bad day, it's my confession of a daily reminder;  it is a declaration that life is special. Not just today, but the day before, and tomorrow. Every day. 

Simon Tosky:

One of the  biggest surprises of the show... Cheerios!? What is your connection to the Cheerio? Has it lowered your Cholesterol?

Calvin 소망 Kim:

I mean you can’t help but smile when you see a Cheerio right? It’s like a mini doughnut or a ring. Maybe it’s just me. I’ve always been drawn to circles: clumsy circles, broken circles, hazy circles... Ever since I was a child I’ve always been interested in the various meanings they hold –they can refer to holes and wholes... But to address your question, the Cheerios come from a special moment in my life I shared with someone.

Did you know birds really enjoy them? I think I've seen a couple turtles munch on some too.

There’s a small bridge I used to enjoy walking with a cup of coffee. Cheerios shimmering on a lake, turtles fluttering. The fragrance of wild bluebells lingering in the air close to me under cloudy skies –serendipitous silhouettes smiling. It’s an imagery I often think about and want to hold forever.

Stay up to date with Calvin’s work @midponder_cloud on instagram.

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