Von Wolfe’s first solo exhibition, The Still Point, presented at Tang Contemporary Art Seoul, explores the charged resonance of psychological stillness within the pictorial plane. Through a series of meticulously composed paintings, Wolfe delves into the layered depths of emotional experience, drawing out the subterranean textures of feeling that lie beneath the surface of representation. These works do not merely depict moments of suspension; they inhabit them, capturing a quiet yet potent interval where tension, gaze, and agency coalesce within stillness itself.
 

The exhibition’s title, The Still Point, is drawn from T. S. Eliot’s Four Quartets, where he writes of “the still point of the turning world.” This paradox of motion within stasis finds a compelling visual analogue in Wolfe’s work. The paintings revolve around a psychological core, where serenity and unease coexist, and the centrifugal pull of emotion and unconscious drive becomes perceptible. Within balanced, composed arrangements, the artist inserts a kind of dignified silence—one that invites the viewer to step outside the rhythm of daily perception and into a denser, slower register of feeling.
 

The female figures that populate these paintings are rendered with subtle distance and restraint. Their poised, composed bodies suggest both containment and latent intensity; their expressions and gestures intimate an emotional complexity that resists legibility. These women are not passive objects of the gaze, but active subjects—self-aware, withholding, and sovereign. Frequently, their eyes avert direct contact with the viewer, instead settling on unseen spaces beyond the frame. In doing so, they create a psychological dissonance, opening a space of ambiguity that defers resolution and multiplies meaning.
 

Animals appear throughout the exhibition not as decorative background elements, but as deliberate and symbolic presences. Cats, birds, and dogs often gaze out with dispassionate eyes, or interrupt the space with silent attentiveness. From a psychoanalytic perspective, these creatures can be read as projections of the unconscious, symbols of repressed desires, or affective doubles of the human figures they accompany. Their mute presence heightens the sense of a scene being watched both from within and without complicating the emotional register of each composition.
 

What distinguishes Wolfe’s practice most clearly is the artist’s considered integration of artificial intelligence not as a mere tool, but as a conceptual and aesthetic collaborator in the creative process. Working with image-generation models He has trained himself, Wolfe explores a vast range of visual possibilities. From this ocean of outputs, he selects those that feel suspended between the real and the uncanny—images that hover at the edge of recognition. These are then meticulously translated into oil on canvas, where human intuition and digital randomness converge. In this hybrid methodology, intention and accident, algorithm and gesture, technology and embodiment, coalesce to produce works that ask urgent questions about authorship, authenticity, and the evolving ontology of the image.
 

Spatial composition is another defining feature of Wolfe’s visual language. The figures are frequently situated within muted, austere interior rooms that feel at once intimate and estranged. Windows appear often but rarely offer a full view outside; they gesture toward an external world that remains perpetually out of reach. This sense of “blocked openness” mirrors the figures’ internal states and reflects a consciousness that is enclosed yet imaginatively extending beyond the confines of the present. The domestic realm here, is not a haven of comfort, but a subtle theatre of psychological dislocation.
 

The palette is characteristically restrained. Wolfe avoids saturated hues and opts instead for soft gradients and muted tonalities that allow emotion to simmer rather than swell. Brushwork is finely controlled, with the surface of the canvas often smoothed to the point of disappearance. Texture yields to the atmosphere. As a result, these paintings do not confront the viewer directly, but envelop them gradually leaving behind a resonant, lingering echo rather than a declarative statement.
 

The Still Point may be understood as both a still life of interiority and a landscape of psychological silence. The emotions represented here have passed through the filter of technological mediation, only to be re-embodied through the enduring medium of paint. These images are not snapshots of paused time; they are condensations of memory, tension, and deferred expression. Through the quiet intensity of these works, Wolfe magnifies the subtle energies that pulse beneath surfaces—those unspoken forces that shape how we inhabit space, relate to others, and navigate the self.

In the presence of these paintings, the viewer is prompted to ask: What moves in stillness? What is felt in silence? What escapes notice between gaze and gesture? Wolfe’s work poses these questions not with words, but through the eloquence of visual withholding. It is a form of painterly thinking, an art of perception and interiority that speaks most clearly through what it chooses not to reveal.