The Interval Between

Curated by Jenny LEE, Jason CHI

The Interval Between — Curatorial Text (Selected Excerpts)

Selected excerpts from the group exhibition curatorial text.

The Interval Between takes the 35th anniversary of Galerie Pierre as its point of departure, looking back through the flow of time while fixing its gaze on what lies ahead. Over the past thirty-five years, Galerie Pierre has continuously generated, transformed, and constructed itself as an art institution, witnessing the evolution of art across generations and forms, while nurturing dreams yet to be realized. This exhibition searches precisely for the resonances between what is complete and what remains in progress—between art and architecture, structure and perception. It is not merely a retrospective, but a call oriented toward the future.

Through the language of art, we seek to respond to the unseen yet essential elements of architecture—structure, light, time, field, and material—the fundamental conditions that constitute our world. Through the works of nine artists, The Interval Between does not aim to depict concrete concepts, but rather to inquire into how architectural qualities lie latent within art.

As structure becomes the rhythm of order, light transforms into the language of perception, and material takes on the texture of thought, art and architecture meet at their most primordial level. This meeting is not a conclusion, but an ongoing dialogue—an open-ended, ever-expanding inquiry. Within the context of "the not-yet," we choose to leave space, allowing ambiguity and incompletion to become the exhibition’s breath. The distance between works, and between the viewer and the art, are relationships in constant flux. It is within these interstices that the act of seeing is reopened—inviting viewers to sense structures not yet fully revealed and consciousness still in the process of becoming.

Excerpt — Julia Hung

The following section is an excerpt from the exhibition’s curatorial text focusing on Julia Hung’s work.

Light

Light is an elusive element. It shapes space while remaining itself invisible; it allows matter to appear, and at the same time enables shadow to exist. The works of Julia Hung and I-Chen Kuo approach light from different directions, each responding to it as a medium of time, memory, and perception.

Hung uses color-coated copper wire as her material. Through weaving and suspension, her works become fields of light and air. Rather than centering on solid form alone, they are shaped jointly by perforated structures and shifting light and shadow. Light passes through the gaps between copper wires, casting projections onto walls or floors, completing the work through its presence. This relationship is not one of simple illumination, but of symbiosis: the work becomes visible through light, and light, in turn, is made perceptible through the work. Hung transforms light from a mere external condition into a vital component of creation—something to be experienced, refracted, and redefined within the work itself.

Within the interwoven space of these works, The Interval Between does not seek a conclusion, but instead presents a state of continuous growth. Through mutual responses among structure, light, time, field, and material, the exhibition becomes a breathing whole - much like architecture in its unfinished state, where the shape of thought is most clearly revealed. For Galerie Pierre, thirty-five years represent both a moment of reflection and an opportunity for renewed departure. To look back is to see how the structures that support art have accumulated layer by layer over time; to move forward is to carry unfinished thoughts and convictions into new forms. The Interval Between symbolizes this ongoing process of reconstruction - not an endpoint, but a sustained condition, an open field where art, architecture, and time coexist. Viewers are invited to linger within it, to sense things still in the process of becoming, and, within the interval of the not-yet, to glimpse the emergence of what lies ahead.

Being as a Woman

Being as a Woman emerges from Julia Hung’s ongoing inquiry into the tension between identity, expectation, and the structures that define womanhood. Hung has long employed techniques historically coded as “female domestic labor”—cooking, ironing, baking, crocheting, and weaving—not to fulfill prescribed roles but to subvert and reframe them. These actions become tools for questioning social value, ephemerality, and the philosophical conditions of being. Through ironing discarded plastics and weaving enameled copper wire, she transforms humble, overlooked materials into sites of existential and cultural reflection.

In this new woven sculpture, layered abstract biomorphic forms hover between organic growth and emotional entanglement, evoking both resilience and vulnerability. The title reflects a distinction central to Hung’s experience: being a woman as a biological identity, versus being as a woman as a role shaped by expectations that can feel imposed, unnatural, or incomplete. Through this work, she examines how femininity is performed, resisted, and continually redefined.

Kuo’s Prototype series responds to the essence of light through the cyanotype process. Cyanotype is a photographic technique that depends on direct exposure to sunlight. Kuo places dried leaves, branches, and gravel collected near a fountain onto cyanotype paper, allowing sunlight to imprint their forms before washing and fixing the image in the fountain pool. This process captures the abstract traces of light itself. Alongside these works, Polaroid photographs preserve the fountain’s actual scene. Placed together, the two form a dialogue of contrasts—improvisation and control, contact and observation, abstraction and figuration—a dual inscription of experience. Through these differing modes of light’s intervention, Kuo questions the origin of memory’s "prototype": does it reside in the traces left on objects, or is it born in the very moment of seeing?

In the works of Julia Hung and I-Chen Kuo, light is no longer a medium of illumination, but a point of departure for thought. It penetrates matter and reshapes imagery, turning perception itself into the object of viewing. Here, light is redefined - not as something belonging to the external world, but as an internal structure, a frequency through which art and architecture resonate.

(Selected excerpt focusing on Julia Hung’s work.)

Wisps and Whispers

I imagine the night as I weave, with threads as delicate as drifting mist. Suspended in the still air, they form tiny universes cloaked in darkness, where they are both observers and observed.

Darkness softens everything it touches, while silence sharpens the subtlest details and thoughts.

Light fades into a pale brilliance, softly illuminating the flow of time.

In the shadows, all things merge and silently transform, and the rhythms of life are hidden, inaudible.

The boundaries between dream and reality, presence and absence, blur and nearly diffuse. In the depths of darkness, when time feels frozen, it seems to cradle eternity—yet these universes slip away like phantoms, vanishing as quickly as they appear.

Déjà Vu

“Déjà vu is simply remembrance of the future.” — Wayne Gerard Trotman

Most of us have encountered an uncanny sense of familiarity toward people, places, or moments we have never actually experienced. Mystics call this precognition; science frames it as delayed neural processing or the echo of a fragmented memory—a phenomenon named déjà vu in 1876 by Émile Boirac.

In the Déjà Vu series, Julia Hung extends her ongoing inquiry into free will. Guided by intuition, she weaves flexible copper wire into delicate, web-like sculptures that seem to drift between states—expanding, collapsing, and re-forming.

These works exist in the liminal space between freedom and constraint, linear and cyclical time, fate and agency—inviting viewers to encounter the moments where memory and foresight collide, challenging our assumptions about causality, temporality, and the autonomy of choice.