Let us now examine Kim’s works, following the order of the exhibition’s flow. THE CLIMAX unfolds in four sections where darkness and light intersect, beginning with a section dedicated to “gardens.” Generally, gardens occupy the front of a house or a specific place around a building. Their placements and design are determined by human intention and shaped through artificial intervention. As such, they can be understood as cultural artifacts—spaces that embody the distinct identities and ideologies of various societies, whether Eastern or Western. The garden is also a theme that Kim has explored frequently in his works since 2013. He sees gardens as hybrids of the natural and the artificial. In other words, the special space we call a garden exists under the condition that a given environment actively transformed according to a purposeful plan and intervention. Kim’s gardens are constructed within this context, systematically and in line with his geometric theory. In Garden, long and straight lines created by connecting shorter segments stretch diagonally, either upward or downward, while in Horizontal Garden, tube-like forms with nodular or bulbous ends float in clusters. The mechanism of contemporary industrialization is inherently embedded in both works, in that identical units form a unified whole through repetition and overlap. In this sense, gardens are both gateways that invite physical intervention and grounds that symbolize that realms of nature and society intersect.
Kim’s art that follows his gardens once again addresses the analogy of manmade forms drawn from nature. Life silently emerges, grows, and dies with the changing seasons and climates. This cycle is neither loud nor striking, yet it is magnificent and sublime, and humans sense this grand paradigm shift only in fragments. The rise and fall of civilizations follow a similar pattern. History transcends the realm of synchronic and diachronic perception, flowing and spreading across different times and places. Kim interprets this phenomenon in line with the processes of flower pollination and seed dispersal. In the second section of the exhibition titled “Collected Scenes,” Kim presents Radial Eruption and Soft Crash, where thin lines radiate outward like the spokes of a wheel. The amplitude of the energy exerted by these works is heightened by the audio effect layered onto their visual characteristics. The “opaque sound” of the sculpture, audible only when one listens closely, resembles the flow and movement of the vast amount of data that often go unnoticed. Visitors may or may not perceive this sound, depending on how broadly they choose to expand their perception of the world. Through these works, Kim diligently fulfills his artistic responsibility to sense the invisible aspects of nature around us and converts them into decipherable symbols, before anyone does.
Stepping into the third exhibition gallery, visitors are greeted with the rear view of 19 tall, sharp-edged sculptures. The sculptures give off a scent of ink and stand quietly on the glistening surface of water. Walk around to the front of The Nineteen Gods that stand much taller than an average person, and notice their gold, reflective surfaces previously invisible from the back unveiled. These “gods”—which, in theory, should be perfect and flawless—ironically demonstrate a state of imbalance. Their centers of gravity are focused on one side, and they reveal their sharp and pointed edges. This group of identical pieces stand in their “potential” states, before being assigned any specific name. Idolatry may be associated with faith that follows metaphysical doctrines, or it may be faith in or devotion to a particular entity. It is grounded in a belief in a fundamental and infinite subject whose existential significance does not fade, even with the passage of time, in layers of memories. Perhaps to Kim, deified beings may be the very structural perceptions that he has constantly been trying to challenge. In short, all tangible and intangible conditions of our everyday lives that encourage the artist to express the sculptural senses he unconsciously acquired in life are objects of reverence. Hence, the nameless gods are sometimes buildings or cities, mathematical diagrams or mass-produced industrial products, or even natural phenomena.
Once visitors pass the room of the gods and arrive at the last exhibition gallery, they encounter the theme of “monumentality.” In order to remember and document something, a way to connote or reflect meaning is required. In reality, symbolic objects often serve that role, sharing and spreading common memories. Sculptures installed in this dimly lit room have pitch-black surfaces, as though they have completely absorbed light emitted by the works in the previous sections. Instead of presenting themselves openly, they appear to withdraw into darkness, implying a deliberate gesture of obscurity over exposure. Yet this method of letting go excess flowery elements paradoxically makes us recognize essential structures more clearly. The black forms, which feel like voids with holes, unveil the most fundamental shapes exactly as they are, without additions or omissions, and they evoke unfamiliar senses as they occupy the space between the immaterial and material, three-dimensional and two-dimensional, and yin and yang. Ultimately, Kim uses the exhibition as an opportunity to present various elements of contemporary industrial society in the form of various geometric monuments that can be shared among many. The final section of the exhibition creates a harmonious contrast with the very first part, where forms radiate light, making Kim’s artistic world—one that embraces ambivalence and unexpected equilibrium—all the more vivid.
The word “climax,” which is also the title of the exhibition, denotes a peak or a moment of culmination, yet it also evokes a sense of tension or a moment of pleasure that exceeds any measurable index. At the climax of the manifestation of Byoungho Kim’s artistic language, we clearly reconfirm the universal relationship of contemporary civilization and humanity—one that continues without cessation, even through ongoing cycles of collision and movement. If we are to call civilization the engine that builds the framework of thinking, then the moments where fine particles of reality create resonance in others’ thoughts, after passing through the elaborate “filter” of Byoungho Kim, may be likened to the emergence of a small, self-contained civilization.