00h00-23h59
JANG Geon Yul

About the Exhibition

He spent many hours watching the sky. (…) As the days went by, he took pleasure in observing the world above him. He especially noticed that the sky was never motionless. Even on days without clouds, when the blue seemed to be everywhere, incessant changes were taking place — gradual disturbances as the sky thinned or grew heavy, the sudden intrusion of the white of airplanes, of birds, of papers floating in the air.

The clouds complicated the situation, and Quinn spent many afternoons studying them, striving to learn their way of being, trying to predict what they were going to become. He became familiar with the cirrus, the cumulus, the stratus, the nimbus, and all their combinations, observing each of them in turn and noticing the way the sky changed under their influence.

The clouds also introduced the question of color, and that was a whole field to master, from white to black through an infinity of grays. All of them had to be examined, measured, deciphered. Moreover, there were the pastels that formed when the clouds reacted to the sun at certain hours of the day. The range of these variables was immense, and the result depended on the temperature of the various layers of the atmosphere, the type of clouds present in the sky, and the position of the sun at that moment.

From all this came the reds and pinks that Quinn loved so much, the purples and vermilions, the oranges and lavenders, the golden and downy khakis. Nothing lasted long. The colors faded quickly, mixing with others and drifting away, or vanishing with the coming of night. There was almost always wind to hasten this end. (…)

There were the dawns and the twilights to observe, the changes of midday, the late afternoons, the nights. Even plunged into darkness, the sky found no rest. Clouds sailed through the blackness, the moon always had a new shape, and the wind blew ceaselessly.