Nina KIM
Beaux-Arts de Paris
We hang our washing out to dry.
We do as much as we can, because we don't want to start all over again.
For a while, the laundry is stretched out to be retrieved, folded and put away as quickly as possible, before the sun goes down and the rain comes in. Like a temporary installation, something washed and watered down. And for me, today’s beauty, which is everywhere, whether on the web or on television, is washed and watered down. And that’s what I believed as a child, even though we all know it’s just an illusion, or worse: a lie.
For me, clothes hung outside, typical of hot countries, or at least hot in summer, bring back two memories. The memory of these clothes stretched in the wind in front of the city in Seoul, and the multiple washings hung in a somewhat random fashion in Italy.
For me, these practical installations are marked by their ephemerality in space and time. Space is occupied, filled only with items that can be easily folded and packed into a suitcase, so I can dry my laundry in any country, I can wash my dirty linen in public.