When Art Truly Imitates Life: The Journey Of Award-Winning Filmmaker and Artist Ari Kim
By Mary Stone
On Thursday, January 16, 2025, Galerie Shibumi in Chinatown will unveil “Mae-Deup (매듭),” a new exhibition by artist and award-winning filmmaker Ari Kim. “Mae-Deup” is a Korean term meaning “knot” or “connection,” and it reflects the traditional Korean art of decorative knotting, historically believed to symbolize the bonds that tie people together across time and space. For Ari, it is the perfect theme for a body of work exploring the intimacy of intergenerational relationships, the subtle gestures of care that unite family members, and the small moments that shape our identities. The show will run from January 17 through February 23, offering visitors an immersive experience that blends painting, music, and deeply personal storytelling.
Ari’s lifelong relationship with art began almost as soon as she could hold a pencil. She recalls her mother describing how, around the age of two, she would draw on the wallpaper whenever she ran out of blank paper. Far from discouraging this behavior, Ari’s mother recognized the spark of creativity and allowed her to continue making marks on the walls. This foundational acceptance of art-making in all its forms led Ari to pursue painting, printmaking, and video art later in college. Yet she found her creative reach would extend even further once she discovered the medium of film.
Having completed her undergraduate degree at NYU, Ari was surrounded by classmates and friends who were studying film. Spending weekends on set for 12-hour shoot days gave her a taste of the deeply collaborative process behind the camera. While painting offered complete creative control—every brushstroke and decision came from her alone—filmmaking required her to relinquish some autonomy and trust others. Sound engineers, cinematographers, composers, and editors all brought their visions to the table, blending their skills with hers. Rather than viewing collaboration as a limitation, Ari came to see it as a complementary force to her painting practice: one medium let her dive inward, while the other opened outward, drawing on a collective well of imagination.
That sense of creative synergy is evident in “Mae-Deup (매듭).” Although the exhibition is composed primarily of Ari’s visual work, it incorporates a musical element through a collaboration with Jackson A. Waters, an award-winning musician and composer who has written for orchestras, chamber groups, and wind ensembles. After carefully examining the visuals and narratives behind each painting, Waters composed a unique piece of music for every artwork in the show. Leveraging technology in a distinctly modern twist, Ari will install Bluetooth beacons around each painting so that visitors can listen to the accompanying music through their headphones. This creates a personal, multi-sensory experience—one that fuses sight and sound in a way rarely encountered in a traditional gallery.
The imagery in “Mae-Deup” stems from Ari’s fascination with connections that defy the passage of time. The show focuses on two figures who could represent a mother and daughter or possibly an older and younger version of the same individual. Their hair is braided together like an umbilical cord, highlighting a life-sustaining bond. Historically in Korea, hair was held in high regard as an ancestral gift to be protected, so the braids in these paintings carry a reverential weight, linking the past to the present. Ari’s upbringing in Korean culture instilled in her an understanding of this continuity and a reverence for the concept of In-Yeon (인연), referring to invisible ties of fate that bind individuals together.
Reflecting on her own life, Ari recognized that much of her art delves into memories and intergenerational links. Subtle acts of care shared by her family—such as her grandmother shielding her from the sun or her mother plucking stray white hairs—served as quiet but powerful demonstrations of love. Those small, nearly wordless moments lodged themselves in her mind as potent narratives worth painting. Through “Mae-Deup,” she hopes visitors will pause to acknowledge similar moments in their own lives, realizing that love often manifests through the smallest gestures.
Ari’s exploration of emotional depth is not limited to painting. She is also an accomplished filmmaker, having won awards at the Cannes World Film Festival, the Berlin Short Film Festival, and the Independent Shorts Award for her film, “The Eyes of the Ocean Are Always Swollen.” Though painting and film require different skill sets, she finds that each process informs the other. For her, painting is about solitary immersion, whereas filmmaking depends on a team. This contrast, instead of diluting her artistic voice, has broadened it. When she walks onto a film set, she must trust a crew of equally passionate artists to fulfill their roles. When she steps in front of a canvas, she relies solely on her own instincts and experiences.
In discussing the differences between the two practices, Ari admits film poses a particular challenge because it demands careful coordination across multiple people and disciplines. The stakes feel higher: a single missed connection in lighting, sound, or editing can alter the entire mood of a scene. Painting, by comparison, is more self-contained. Yet it, too, has its hurdles, as she must rely on her personal intuition and maintain unwavering dedication to a piece from start to finish. The freedom of painting can be dizzying, but it allows her to tap into more abstract, symbolic territory, such as portraying her cat as a human figure or weaving Korean mythological elements into her work.
Perhaps one of the most significant turning points in Ari’s career came when she first arrived in New York and exhibited a video piece titled “소주 한잔 해요 (Let’s Have Soju).” This twelve-minute film centered on a two-hour phone call she had with her father—someone who, from her early years, expressed the desire to one day share a drink with his daughter. That simple wish conveyed his deeper longing for closeness and time, making it a potent theme for artistic exploration. During the screening, an elderly woman, who seemingly did not understand Korean, watched the entire film with subtitles. Afterward, she approached Ari to share her own recollections of her father, admitting she had not thought of him in years. It was a revelation for Ari, proving the power of authentic storytelling to cross language and cultural barriers, drawing out buried memories and emotions.
This emphasis on authentic human connection underpins Ari’s broader philosophy: she believes art that emerges from personal truth can strike universal chords. In “Mae-Deup,” the emotional resonance lies not just in the imagery of braided hair but in the memories, experiences, and hidden ties it represents. Visitors to the exhibition will feel this through the interplay of visuals and music, each painting acting as a doorway to the subtle yet profound bonds that shape our lives.
Exhibiting at Galerie Shibumi holds a special meaning for Ari because of the gallery’s intimate scale and carefully curated environment. The space encourages focused engagement; it is not a massive hall that people drift through casually. Visitors to Chinatown, whether arriving by intention or stumbling upon the gallery by chance, will spend meaningful time absorbing the work. And this slower, more deliberate pace of viewing complements the themes of “Mae-Deup,” prompting people to notice detail and nuance.
Balancing the personal and the universal, Ari hopes that viewers will leave with a sense of how quietly monumental small gestures can be. Even a moment as simple as combing someone’s hair or offering them shade can take on significant emotional weight. These actions, repeated over time, build our sense of who we are, knitting us into the fabric of family and community across generations. Ari also stresses that while she is conscious of audience reception, she does not let it dictate her creative process. For her, authenticity always comes first—every project begins with personal exploration and finds its own path to broader resonance.
Though “Mae-Deup (매듭)” focuses on painting and installation, Ari has no plans to abandon filmmaking. In fact, she is currently wrapping up a short film titled “(24),” shot over the previous summer, and is developing a script about a grandfather and granddaughter set in 2012 New York. As she looks ahead, she envisions weaving film, painting, and perhaps more collaborative media ventures into future projects. For now, “Mae-Deup” stands as a testament to how cultural tradition, family bonds, and artistic innovation can come together in one immersive gallery experience.
For those curious about purchasing Ari’s work, inquiries regarding pricing can be directed to contact@galerieshibumi.com. The cost of the pieces is not set forth publicly, reflecting the often personal nature of collecting art. But just as the braided hair in Ari’s paintings symbolizes enduring connections, the act of acquiring her art forms a new link between the collector and the larger narrative of human closeness. In a world that moves swiftly, “Mae-Deup (매듭)” is a gentle reminder that some of the most vital moments are the ones that slip quietly under our radar, surfacing only in memory or in the delicate tension of a single knot.