Interval, October 1, 1989 - January 7, 2000

Black and white photographs, color Polaroids, clear envelopes, 5 in. x 4 in. each, overall dimensions variable.

"In October, 1989 I began a daily project of photographic documentation using myself as a subject. The camera became a diligent observer, allowing me to continue the private ritual. Only one photo was taken each day as a faithful witness- without idealization or projection, embellishment or disguise. During the period of ten years, my goal was to attempt to remove external variables such as facial expressions, hair styles, backgrounds, and to some extent clothing, by keeping it similar when possible, so that subtle and minute changes become visible. As the singular individuality of each self-portrait diminishes, the series of visage as a whole creates a vast landscape of repetition that appears to be still, yet slowly changing as time passes. In this terrain of impermanence, the location of the self becomes inconclusive, but the traces of time, incontestable." -yk

Interval, October 1, 1989 - January 7, 2000, Installation View #1, SF Art Commission Gallery, San Francisco, CA, 1996

Interval, Storage Boxes: 4.5 in. x 10.5 in x 5.75 in.

San Francisco, Young Kim at Arts Commission Gallery

“There are few forms of documentation more immediate and blunt than the instant Polaroid photograph. Imagine using such a "dull" instrument to strike a self-portrait's pose-daily.  Would the visual result be flexible enough to allow for creativity?  How would you hide what would be revealed? This has been Korean-American photographer Young Kim's self imposed challenge in her daily ritual of snapping her own image for over 2,000 days. The result, an on going series of photographs entitled Interval is a meditation on ritual, remembrance, preservation, identity, and aging-and the inevitability of change over time.

Not all Kim's self-portraits are neat "mug shots" of the artist's visage. Some Polaroids reveal a specific day's definition of the artist's personality or mood as perceived by the artist herself. We witness Kim's likeness to travel to different quadrants of the Polaroid's rectangular frame; sometimes Kim is sitting at the center of the shot's composition, sometimes not. On other days the artist's image is absent altogether. The series depicting the days March 1- March 23, 1991, are blacked out frames. Blank white frames appear as well. Particularly eerie is June 11, 1992, in which Kim's countenance appears as an apparition, emerging into the otherwise "empty" frame.

Other frames in which Kim is absent reveal a sinister sense. In February 4, 1990, the subject of Kim's self-portrait is a daunting black-and-white image of a knife; the photograph depicting the artist three days later, February 7, 1993, features only a menacing shadow.

We see Kim both with make-up and without. Her hairstyles evolve over time. The landscape of her face, presented consistently in its expressionless state (sans smile or frown), seems as still and yet malleable by the natural order of time as a stone, in turn untouched, ravaged and polished as the days and their environmental challenges pass.

It is intriguing to trace Kim's visual interests through her compositional choices executed over time. The span from Kim's early images to her more current photos, for example, shifts the depth of field from close-up to more far away; Kim also dares to venture into the realm of color later in the series.

The effect of witnessing neat rows of Kim's bravely revealing photographs side by side is similar to watching an intricately staged set of dominos being toppled in a rhythmic drama. Each singular self portrait is a carefully chosen word in Kim's visual life story, knotted together tightly like pearls on a string.”

-Reena Jana, March/ April 1996    ASIAN ART NEWS

Timepiece - October 1, 1989 - January 7, 2000, black and white photographs, color Polaroids, clear envelopes, 5 in. x 4 in. each at Ellen Kim Murphy Gallery, Santa Monica, CA, 2001