The Hole Contemporary art gallery New York and Los Angeles

Visit the Mutant Lab online viewing room here

The Hole is proud to present Mutant Lab, the first New York solo exhibition by Korean artist Younguk Yi, whose unsettling repetitions and smooth verisimilitude have made him one of the most distinctive emerging painters.

Yi’s canvases look like portraits from a hallucination—or a lab report. Figures proliferate, double and splice together, their limbs and faces recombining into new anatomies. In place of a stable body we find humans and animals mid-mutation: eyes stack like windows, torsos scaffold upward as flesh becomes architecture. The white backgrounds, raw and unpainted, provide "containment" like the fluorescent void of an exam room where the body is subjected to inspection, a space of regulation and surveillance disguised as neutrality.

Trained in Seoul, Yi approaches painting through reiteration and distortion to test what painting can reveal once the image begins to break down. His airbrush provides pigment suspended in air, dispersed by pressure, forming shapes that hover between solidity and vapor. It trades in calibration, chance and breath and is, to the artist, "a philosophical choice." These whisper-thin gradients are then edged by hand with ghostly precision, make the paintings at first appear digital. If I hadn’t seen his geometrically-precise drawings and extensive anatomical sketching, I wouldn’t know how he was able to create works like this.

Yi builds compositions from collapsing scaffolds and fragile grids—visual echoes of Korea’s accelerated modernization and the instability it leaves behind. The body becomes a building in a system of strain and support. These painted architectures recall both the optimism and the failures of modern progress: the scaffolding of ambition, the memory of disaster, and the quiet fear of things needing maintenance and repair.

Themes in this show unfold across thirty paintings in four zones: the front gallery filled with yawning figures, the rear with wrestlers and referees locked in struggle, a small side room devoted entirely to dogs, and the large green “lab” where new experiments take shape. A dark humor haunts these scenes: the painting titles circle ideas of obedience and training, choreography and competition, power and artifice. They puncture solemnity—Portrait of one who pretends to listen while secretly worrying when the conversation will end or Portrait of someone forcing a faint smile while hiding the envy at a friend’s success—turning existential unease into wry self-awareness. Taken together in this Mutant Lab, these rooms form a kind of behavioral study: a world in which every gesture, impulse and repetition becomes data.

If these works carry a hint of science fiction, it’s not because they depict another world, but because they expose how mysterious our own is. They suggest parallel realities or biotech mutations, yet their real subject is human nature—the tangle of emotion, imitation, and desire that shapes our behavior. As the titles imply, Yi’s repetitions probe the “unknowability of the other.” His figures multiply like frames in a time-lapse, a kind of psychological Cubism where dilation replaces motion and emotion finds form. The proliferation of bodies provides a surplus of “body language,” yet even with this abundance of gesture, the inner world remains hidden. Behind the many “windows” of the eyes, each of our "buildings" is sealed off; surrounded by others, we remain unknowable to one another.

Younguk Yi (b.1991) lives and works in Seoul, Korea. He graduated from Dankook University, Department of Western Studies, and completed his MFA and PhD programs at Hongik University, Department of Painting. Recent solo exhibitions include Deformation of the Frame, OCI Museum of Art, Seoul (2024); When the remote control did not work, the drone crashed to the floor, Art Centre Art Moment, Seoul (2023); and A Fragment Thrown Up by a Dumped Image, Rund Gallery, Seoul (2022). Following Yi’s inclusion in a group show with us this spring, we are delighted to present the artist’s stateside solo debut. Special thanks to Yi’s Korean gallery WWNN for their thoughtful collaboration and assistance with this exhibition. We would also like to thank Kim Min-kyung and the artist himself for their thoughtful texts about this body of work, which will be available at the exhibition.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of a young girl, once turned into a fairy-tale heroine by glittering crowns, dresses, and the gaze of parents in the audience, until a single slip shattered the play and revealed the weary truth of her six short years beneath the splendor, 2025, acrylic on linen, 76 x 51 inches, 194 x 130 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of one who stares ahead with composure yet shifts restlessly, trapped in quiet anxiety, 2025, acrylic on linen, 76 x 51 inches, 194 x 130 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of one acting as though conjuring spells while commanding an obedient dog, 2025, acrylic on linen, 76 x 51 inches, 194 x 130 cm.

Younguk Yi, That’s how the world works: you can break your legs, and the people sitting up top will still clap, thinking it’s just part of the
show, 2025, acrylic on linen, 64 x 51 inches, 162 x 130 cm.

Younguk Yi, He grips his opponent’s head, scanning the crowd like a monkey clutching prey in a tree, and when the blow comes it feels less
like a hunt than a preordained ritual gesture, 2025, acrylic on linen, 64 x 51 inches, 162 x 130 cm.

Younguk Yi, The child’s fight began as stacking stones, yet over time those stones became stage props, and the applause was aimed not at
truth but at the script, 2025, acrylic on linen, 64 x 51 inches, 162 x 130 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of one struck from behind by the person most trusted, striving to make the betrayal look impressive to those around, 2025, acrylic on linen, 64 x 44 inches, 162 x 112 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of someone throwing their whole body into prayer, while quietly slipping in a wish list of personal favors, 2025, acrylic on linen, 64 x 44 inches, 162 x 112 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of a swan whose jaw flares open before its wings ever spread, 2025, acrylic on linen, 57 x 44 inches, 146 x 112 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of a dog that has internalised obedience yet forgotten the drills that trained it, 2025, acrylic on linen, 57 x 44 inches, 146 x 112 cm.

Younguk Yi, If I fear your eyes, I’ll cover mine first. The joke is you won’t see anything either. We’re both in the dark, yet I still feel I’ve won, 2025, acrylic on linen, 46 x 36 inches, 117 x 91 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of someone posing as the emblem of fairness, all the while pulling the strings behind the scenes, 2025, acrylic on linen, 46 x 36 inches, 117 x 91 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of a dairy cow in the laboratory, 2025, acrylic on linen, 46 x 36 inches, 117 x 91 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of a puppy searching for treats in all the wrong places, 2025, acrylic on linen, 44 x 35 inches, 112 x 89 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of one praying to offer everything they have, if only they may bloom as God’s flower, 2025, acrylic on linen, 29 x 24 inches, 73 x 61 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of a dog who, having resolved no longer to cower, pauses on the brink of attack, 2025, acrylic on linen, 29 x 24 inches, 73 x 61 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of a dog swallowing silence while waiting for its chance, 2025, acrylic on linen, 29 x 24 inches, 73 x 61 cm.

Younguk Yi, Portrait of someone forcing a faint smile while hiding their envy at a friend’s success, 2025, acrylic on linen, 26 x 21 inches, 65 x 53 cm.

Younguk Yi, Portrait of someone who seems to listen, yet relies more on gestures, glances, and pauses than words themselves, 2025, acrylic on linen, 26 x 21 inches, 65 x 53 cm.

Younguk Yi, Portrait of someone who listens carefully but never lets go of doubt, 2025, acrylic on linen, 26 x 21 inches, 65 x 53 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of a bride who finally reveals the discomfort hidden beneath her dress, 2025, acrylic on linen, 26 x 21 inches, 65 x 53 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of a bride placed on the social stage where she is asked to prove her love, 2025, acrylic on linen, 21 x 18 inches, 53 x 46 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of one covering the face to stifle a secret yawn, 2025, acrylic on linen, 21 x 18 inches, 53 x 46 cm.

Younguk Yi, Portrait of a dog watching its owner quarrel with a friend, puzzled as to why anyone would fight when a meal is right in front
of them, 2025, acrylic on linen, 21 x 18 inches, 53 x 46 cm.

Younguk Yi, Portrait of a dog unable to hide its confusion at a guest pretending to be close with its owner, 2025, acrylic on linen, 21 x 18 inches, 53 x 46 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of one who, stripped of power, performs only the bare duty of their role, 2025, acrylic on linen, 21 x 18 inches, 53 x 46 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of one mocking the shackles called diligence and hard work, while confessing helplessness, 2025, acrylic on linen, 21 x 18 inches, 53 x 46 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of one who absorbs the oncoming tide of yawns from the crowd, blending them into his own body as he tries to resist
sleep, 2025, acrylic on linen, 18 x 15 inches, 46 x 38 cm.

Younguk Yi, A portrait of a monk whose wait for enlightenment nearly broke his neck, only to unhinge his jaw first in a colossal yawn, 2025, acrylic on linen, 18 x 15 inches, 46 x 38 cm.

Younguk Yi, Portrait of a girl who has never once told a lie, 2025, acrylic on linen, 14 x 11 inches, 35 x 27 cm.

Younguk Yi, Portrait of someone who can never hide a lie, 2025, acrylic on linen, 14 x 10.5 inches, 35 x 27 cm.

Younguk Yi, Portrait of someone who seems intent on listening, yet absorbs nothing at all, 2025, acrylic on linen, 13 x 9.5 inches, 33 x 24 cm.

Younguk Yi, Portrait of someone laid out on a laboratory table, 2025, acrylic on linen, 13 x 9.5 inches, 33 x 24 cm.