NEW YORK, January 16, 2025 — Tucked away in the heart of Chinatown, Galerie Shibumi has just unveiled “Mae-Deup (매듭),” the latest exhibit by multidisciplinary artist and award-winning filmmaker Ari Kim. The show officially opened to the public on January 17 and runs through February 23, but last week I was lucky enough to be invited for an intimate glimpse into her ethralling series of paintings and an accompanying soundscape that promise a deeply personal journey through memory, connection, and cultural heritage.
A Lifelong Commitment to Art From her earliest memories, Kim has been immersed in art—sometimes quite literally. As she recalls, even as a toddler, she would draw on wallpaper whenever sketchbooks were out of reach. “My mum never stopped me,” Kim says with a laugh, “so I continued on that path.” Her formal training took her into painting, printmaking, and video art during college. That foundational exploration became the bedrock for a creative practice that now includes film, painting, and large-scale installations.
“Growing up steeped in Korean culture, I was always aware of traditional crafts like Mae-Deup (매듭)—the art of knotting—and the reverence we hold for ancestral gifts, such as hair,” Kim explains. “These cultural elements shaped my worldview, instilling a deep respect for the invisible ties that bind us across generations.”
From NYU to Film Sets While attending NYU for her undergraduate studies, Kim found herself drawn to filmmaking. Surrounded by friends in film school, she discovered a natural curiosity for the collaborative medium and its power to tell complex stories. “I fell in love with that community,” she says. “Spending 12 hours on a film set every weekend with passionate, talented people—there was something magical about bringing so many minds together.”
Despite her love of film, painting remained Kim’s personal sanctuary. “With painting, I can be entirely self-reliant,” she says. “Filmmaking requires negotiation, collaboration, and trust in my teammates. Painting, by contrast, is a place where I can express my vision without compromise.” Over the years, Kim has found a balance between these two worlds, allowing each medium to inform and energize the other.
The Concept of “Mae-Deup (매듭)” The Korean word Mae-Deup (매듭) translates to “knot” or “connection” in English—an apt title for a body of work that explores intergenerational ties, memory, and identity. “This show delves into the connection between two figures who could be a mother and daughter or perhaps an older and younger self,” Kim explains. “Their braided hair, reminiscent of an umbilical cord, symbolizes this deep bond.”
In Korean culture, hair has historically been regarded as a sacred inheritance from ancestors, often cut and saved as a relic of familial ties. By foregrounding hair in her imagery, Kim aims to evoke notions of lineage, the passage of time, and the unseen links that hold families and communities together. “It’s about cherishing those bonds,” she says, “and realizing how they carry us through life, sometimes without us even being fully aware.”
A Multimedia Encounter Visitors to Galerie Shibumi can expect a multi-sensory encounter unlike a typical painting show. Kim has joined forces with award-winning composer and musician Jackson A. Waters, who has written original music for each of Kim’s paintings. “Jackson usually composes for orchestras, chamber groups, and wind ensembles,” Kim notes. “For this exhibit, he responded directly to the story and visuals of each piece.”
By installing Bluetooth beacons near every artwork, the gallery allows viewers to hear specific compositions on their own headphones. “You walk up to a piece, and the music transitions seamlessly to match the painting’s mood,” Kim explains. “It’s a personal, intimate experience that merges the visual and auditory realms.” The unique format underscores Kim’s devotion to collaboration, mirroring her love for film’s collective energy while preserving the self-contained nature of a painting exhibition.
Finding Meaning in Subtle Moments Despite the scale and ambition of Kim’s projects, her inspiration comes from everyday life. She speaks fondly of her grandmother shielding her from the sun or meticulously plucking the white hairs from her mother’s head—tiny, tender acts that in her family replaced verbal declarations of love. “These small gestures became a language of care,” Kim says. “When I create, I want people to reflect on their own families, remembering how affection often hides in unspoken moments.”
One of Kim’s defining breakthroughs occurred during an early video-art exhibition in New York, where she showcased a twelve-minute piece called “소주 한잔 해요 (Let’s Have Soju).” Constructed around a two-hour phone call with her father, the piece touched on his desire for the day they could share a drink together—a symbolic rite of passage in many Korean families. “An older woman, who I don’t think understood Korean, sat through the entire piece,” Kim recalls. “She told me afterward that it reminded her of her own father and how long it had been since she thought about him.” That transformative moment proved the universal resonance of personal experiences, prompting Kim to continue threading cultural specificity into her art, confident it could connect with diverse audiences.
Bringing “Mae-Deup (매듭)” to Life Like many independent creators, Kim faced uncertainties when she began the Mae-Deup series. “I didn’t know where or when it would be shown,” she admits. “It was both freeing and terrifying—there was no set deadline, no guarantee anyone would ever see it.” Over time, her dedication and faith in the work guided her through bouts of self-doubt. “Eventually, I realized that if I believed in the meaning of these pieces, they would find their audience,” she says.
That moment arrived when Galerie Shibumi offered her the opportunity to exhibit. Known for a tightly curated selection of shows, the space is smaller and more intimate than many of the city’s sprawling Chelsea galleries. “There’s a personal feel to the gallery,” Kim observes. “You either stumble upon it by chance or you go because you know exactly why you’re there. That sets a tone for a more intentional experience with the artwork.”
Visuals and Emotions Intertwined What stands out in Kim’s work is the interplay of starkly personal themes, often steeped in Korean tradition, with broad emotional resonance. “I focus on deeply authentic subject matter—family ties, acts of care, cultural rituals—so it’s grounded in feelings that many of us know,” she says. “Even if viewers don’t share the same heritage, the universal emotions are there: love, longing, and the weight of memories.” This emotional undercurrent is amplified by Waters’ compositions, creating a layered tapestry of sound and image that lingers with viewers long after they’ve left the gallery.