Jean Chung’s paintings float and ripple in Gallery 19a. The fire radiating in the corner of the room strengthens shadows cast by the suspended works. My eye flows across the pieces, encouraged up and down to paintings placed on the floor, hung above door frames, stacked on shelves, and protruding from walls. ‘Jean wanted things to be floating in space,’ says Richard Matthews, curator.

Richard worked closely with Jean to curate the exhibition, the first solo show he has worked on as part of his independent curatorial project N.ON. N.

‘When approaching this exhibition, we thought about how we could elevate the work within the space to reflect the ocean. We wanted the viewer to feel like they’re walking into Jean’s imagination.’

The works are frameless, free and intimate, untethered by plinths or fixings so the viewer can walk around, peer behind and spend time with them as objects.  

The paintings themselves are playful. The muted colours and carefully rendered depictions of ocean objects and creatures made me feel like I was entering a dreamscape. The paintings have a tension between the illustrative and the lyrical; the melodic figuration undercut by a lightness of application. Tone and colour are used to create a depth to the pieces, the works built up through dexterous layers of material. The surfaces appear hazy and subtle, although form and line are clean and refined. It is a beautiful balance.

Text and references to books pepper the exhibition: from the poetic illustrated concertina piece which tells the story of a girl who captures and releases a dolphin, to the hidden poem in a painted scroll. I ask Jean why words are so important to her.  

‘I studied literature at University in Korea and originally wanted to be a novelist. I didn’t discover drawing and painting until I was 22 and realised that painting was storytelling, just in a different medium. I’ve done three solo shows and I have treated each one like a book with a different story line.’