On exhibit from May 3 to 25, 2025, the Collector’s Review brings together a compelling range of work from both familiar names and fresh voices represented by the gallery. Featured artists include Kim JongKu, Yoon Byung Rock, Kim Kang Yong, Choi Young Wook, Young Ha Park, Petrus Bergstrand, David Gerstein, and Enzo Barracco.
Every artwork begins somewhere with a moment, a memory, or a question that needs exploring. For Kim JongKu, that exploration takes shape through iron powder and silk, materials that feel both heavy and ephemeral. His abstract fe-Mountains and Plant series read like meditations on nature and time, physical yet poetic, rooted yet open-ended.
In contrast, Yoon Byung Rock’s paintings of apples and seasonal scenes have a quieter intimacy. Using traditional Korean paper, his oils evoke a kind of stillness that draws you in. These aren’t just apples. They’re memories, metaphors, and moments preserved with care.
Kim Kang Yong’s layered compositions challenge the boundary between what we see and what lies beyond it. His Reality + Image works blend oil, stone, and sand, hinting at landscapes or impressions just out of reach, like dreams you can almost remember.
Among the most intimate works in the show are those by Young Ha Park, whose recurring series Thou to be seen tomorrow spans two decades. Each piece, while small in scale, holds quiet intensity. Whether on paper or canvas, they feel like fragments of thought, unfinished conversations with the self, echoes of something not yet fully spoken.
Meanwhile, David Gerstein’s aluminum cutout works such as the 5th Avenue series burst with color and motion. At first glance, they’re playful scenes of New York life but look longer, and you start to sense the rhythm of the city—the constant flow, the chaos, the joy of a shared sidewalk.
Art doesn’t happen in isolation. It reflects the world around it, its tensions, beauty, and shifts. Enzo Barracco’s photography from the Galápagos, for example, captures more than landscape. His photograph from The Skin of the Rock series feels like a quiet protest, a visual reminder of what’s still wild and what’s at risk of disappearing.
The same sense of awareness runs through Petrus Bergstrand’s Visitor of the Four Angles. Painted in acrylic, the work is geometric and grounded but filled with spiritual suggestion. There’s structure but also mystery.
In Choi Young Wook’s richly textured Karma series, the title alone invites questions about consequence and continuity. These pieces offer no clear narrative, only layers, just like life.
Look closely, and meaning begins to emerge in unexpected places. Yoon Byung Rock’s apples may seem simple, but they echo centuries of symbolism, from knowledge and temptation to loss and legacy. In his hands, the apple becomes a stand-in for stillness and change all at once.
Kim JongKu’s use of rusting metal adds a layer of temporality to his work. The material itself changes over time, making the art a living thing—always shifting, never quite the same.
Young Ha Park’s repeated titles used over and over like a mantra signal a loop in time. Each variation is a new attempt to reach something fleeting.
What binds these artists isn’t just their techniques. It’s their commitment to the process. Whether it’s mixing sand into pigment or carving aluminum into flowing figures, each piece reflects hours of exploration. These aren’t just objects on a wall. They’re evidence of a search.
Some artists work with precision; others embrace chance but all of them are after something real. Something true. Kim JongKu’s “fe- Mountains M 240106_02” transforms industrial materials into serene landscapes, evoking the slow force of nature. Yoon Byung Rock’s “Scent of Autumn” (2024) captures a fleeting season with soft color and meditative balance. David Gerstein’s “5th Avenue Q” (2020) bursts with city life, alive with detail and movement. Kim Kang Yong’s “Reality+Image 2303-2225” blurs the lines between image and object, prompting us to question what we think we see.
The Collector’s Review isn’t just an exhibition. It’s a window into how artists see the world, and how we might begin to see it differently too. Each frame holds a story. Some are loud. Some are soft. All are worth listening to.
