A precarious balancing act between post-apocalyptic chaos and harmony.

Inside artist Kyungmin Sophia Son’s South London studio different eras in time live cheek by jowl: old works are piled up amongst current working materials and on the walls there are yet undetermined plans for future pieces. “I spend day time in my studio and sometimes I go out for a walk by the canal nearby. It is beautiful, but is also like a pseudo-style nature between residences, which I enjoy” she explains. One half of the studio is messy, where the artist enjoys drawing on paper (a practice she repeats every day) and making work with clay and wax. The other half is tidy, where she tests configurations and plays with her references on 3D programs and Photoshop, using edit and cut-out tools to develop images into printing material. Along the wall sits a substantial mood board with clipped images of feathers, fishing lure, vases, flies and faux leather; and on the table lies a small mountain of beads and a collection of gold and silver chains. Sophia Son, who wears a gold chain herself, pairs a black top with a black bottom. This neutral look is dissimilar to the artist’s colour choices in her artistic practice, where one can encounter pastel combinations with blue teal, pink lemonade or tangerine orange. Nearby are the half-finished books she’s reading, including Elizabeth A. Povinelli, Bruno Latour or Donna J. Haraway. The remaining area is reserved for a leopard printed shopping trolley and a cabinet that offers the sweet and savoury treats of Haribo and almonds. Son is not one for rituals, but these staples offer small moments of familiar reality amongst the bio-politics, mythology and quasi-surfaces oozing from both the artist and the work.