Grace Kim — Ratrock Magazine

Feature by Korrin Lee

Photos by Audrea Chen

Grace Kim is a senior at Columbia College (CC ‘25) majoring in Visual Art and Art History. Though she works principally with oil painting, Grace’s work includes ceramic sculptures and tattoos. Grace’s portfolio is a synthesis of East Asian and European artistic practices that draws inspiration from Korean dancheong patterns. Outside of the art studio, Grace loves Lebron James, UFC, WWE, and Formula 1 racing.

It’s a semi-cold February night, and I am welcomed into Grace Kim’s Senior Studio at Watson Hall with an explosion of color greeting me upon my entrance; the walls are covered with art, a testament to Grace’s prolific creativity and all that inspires it. Grace’s work is full to the brim with dynamic colors, a theatrical juxtaposition to her all-black zipper-clad outfit. At the very back end of her studio, a Monster-can creation assembled with hot glue and sorted by flavor, a record of Grace’s caffeine-fueled nights, towers behind a busy easel. A few large canvases are lying around, providing a glimpse of Grace’s thesis project Anachronologica in its middle stages. To my left, Icarus Reimagined 2.0, a larger-than-life reworking of the myth of Icarus, depicting the moment of the fall with a juxtaposition of vibrant, ornate patterns framing the fateful scene. Despite the violence of impalement, the central figure is artfully posed, embodying the clash of euphoric flight and gravity-filled reality amidst a beautiful, yet deadly, sea. To my right, the figures of Orpheus and Eurydice emerge from a blank canvas; Charles Oliviera, a UFC fighter who’s saint-like in this painted iteration, peeks out from behind the thesis-in-progress, tucked neatly in front of Grace’s tattoo caddy. A somber man holding a fish stares at me from the small easel on her desk.

It would be misleading to describe this encounter as a completely unfamiliar one–Grace and I have been friends since our freshman year, having shared a room and countless memories. So, that is where I am starting this interview: a nice conversation with a longtime friend, accompanied by the plethora of plushies surrounding her studio's cozy corner, in the same spot where I was blessed to receive my first Grace Kim Tattoo last semester. With both of us in our last year at Columbia, the conversation starts with the inescapable topic of post-graduate plans and the gamble of fellowship applications. Though academia was not the initial plan for either of us, Grace speaks of her plans to pursue her own research project in Korea, one that would allow her to study the dancheong (단청) patterns that are ever-present in her art.

“So much of my art since before even high school or college centers on my Korean American background; I’ve been using images and motifs of Korean history for my whole life—it’s always been a part of my art. I want to study the dancheong 단청 patterns that I use in my art, with the hope that, with certification, I can potentially work on restoration projects”

Dancheong refers to the ornate details that both decorate and protect the wooden facades of traditional Korean temples and palaces. Though there are regional variations, the typology of dancheong patterns utilizes the five cardinal colors–blue, white, red, black, and yellow—representing the cardinal directions and the five elements in traditional Korean culture and philosophy. Characterized by radiant colors, geometric patterns, flora, and fauna, dancheong is a rich Korean artistic tradition that Grace has been exploring in her work since her freshman year at Columbia. Though Grace pulls from the dancheong patterns in many of her portraits, she sees her work as a synthesis of multiple artistic traditions, an aspect of her art that is fitting, given that the dancheong itself ultimately emerged from cross-cultural exchanges.

“I incorporate a lot of different types of patterning in my work, both from my experience tattooing and the freehand style that I developed through that and pulling from other styles of art like Rocaille from France or other countries in Asia. The dancheong was the base for these kind of patterns to spring from. So, if you look at my thesis work, you can still see those patterns, but it's a lot more intuitive now. It’s very much inspired by Korean art, but not defined by these existing patterns–it’s a tribute to Korean art rather than a direct copy of it.”

For Grace, her academic future and her relationship with Korea consist of repair on multiple levels: physically, by studying repair and potentially going into the restoration field, and internally, by repairing and better understanding her Koreaness as a Korean-American. Having spent her childhood living in Koreatown, Los Angeles, Grace talks to me about growing up in a microcosm of the country her parents are from. Grace’s decision to stay close to Korean culture has been a concerted one; she tells me that once she started learning English in school, she consciously chose to never lose her Korean. Her relationship with Korea is not one that she takes for granted—it is maintained and nourished, despite the underlying anxieties that come with going ‘home’ to a country that exists only through second-hand stories and memories.

The notion of repair extends to her academic interests– Grace speaks of her desire to strengthen the understanding of Korean art in the United States, an area of art history that is understudied in academia. Japanese colonization has undeniably marked Korean history, including Korea’s artistic history, the suppression of Korean culture and forced assimilation leaving lasting impacts that continue to reverberate throughout Korea today. Navigating the overwhelming Eurocentric academy is difficult—and I won’t say “at times” because it’s difficult all of the time— but Grace Kim is committed to disrupting this. Since high school, Grace has been very cognizant of Eurocentrism, in both the art world and at the university level; she cites the desire to subvert Eurocentric norms motivating not only the medium in which she paints but her subjects as well. For her, representative oil painting serves as a way to challenge the Western art canon; it is a medium through which she demonstrates her incredible artistry, cultural heritage, and close relationships, elevating herself and her friends to the pedestal that she placed the Western ‘greats’ on for so long.

Grace wasn’t always intent on pursuing academic art history as a career, though she’s always had a love for it —she came to Columbia intending to make art and “figuring it out along the way.” Both of us being first-generation, low-income college students, there’s a level of understanding between us that can be rare to find in the wild (AKA the Columbia classroom or studio). One: it is absolutely a privilege to study a subject you’re passionate about, especially if it’s not seen as ‘lucrative’, and Two: the pressure of making life worth the sacrifices that your parents made might someday kill us, or at least crush us under its weight. But for Grace, art has been a lifelong companion, and more than that, it's been a means of survival. She recounts to me the Korean tradition of Baek-il, where, as a celebration of the 100th day of a child’s life, objects are set out to determine the child’s future; on her 100th day, Grace chose a pencil.

During the most turbulent moments of her life, Grace turns towards art and her friends–an invaluable support system that intimately shapes her art. Grace makes a point to only paint those with whom she has a close personal relationship; her portraits not only serve as a visual history of Grace’s life but a commemoration of everything and everyone that has made that life possible. In the process of portraiture, everything is intentional, even if it isn’t—Grace sometimes builds an idea around her subjects, like in her work Charlie in the Image of Saint Sebastian. This portrait, a reinterpretation of Saint Sebastian for her best friend Charlie, features the lotus flower and vivid colors characteristic of dancheong patterns. Charlie is swathed in flames, feathers, and arrow shards that crawl out of the vivid green background, an homage to Saint Sebastian, who has taken on the status of a religious icon in the queer community. For other portraits, Grace tells me that her method of selecting her subjects differs, however, Grace cites the innate beauty of her friends as her primary motivation. As she describes the Kumiho, it becomes clear to me that every stage of her process drips with intention.

Charlie in the Image of Saint Sebastian, 2024

Kumiho features her dear friend Michelle, centered in front of a dancheong-esque floral pattern, the painting bursting with vibrant reds and greens. In one hand Michelle balances a floating sphere-like object, the other hand caressing the face of a fox–an intimate detail whose significance, unless explained, might go unnoticed. Grace loves to include small nods to the shared imagery of her friendships, their life stories constructed in a narrative through her portraits; she embraces multiple interpretations of her work, saving some symbolism as a secret between artist and muse. In this particular portrait, the fox serves as a symbol of the misogyny rampant in both Korea and the male-dominated field that Michelle finds herself in. The folklore of the nine-tailed fox can be found across East Asian cultures, but in its Korean iteration, the story of the kumiho is typically a female figure, a notable detail given the negative connotations of the fox in Korean society. Here, Grace reclaims the fox as a symbol of Michelle’s strength, Kumiho a testament to the intimacies and symbolism present across Grace’s portfolio.

Grace’s senior thesis project, Anachronologica, will take the form of an oil painting triptych that reimagines classical Western mythology through her unique, Korean, style- Icarus Reimagined 2.0 being the first entry in this series. In her work, Grace continues to center experiences across the Asian-American diaspora through a synthesis of Asian traditional art styles, principally drawing inspiration from dancheong patterns. With portraiture as her main weapon, Grace is determined to forge her own path in academia, art, and beyond, all while keeping those closest to her present in both her thoughts and artistic endeavors.

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