'Epoché' 

Kay Gasei

Let me tell you about the first show held at the newly opened Reem Gallery Soho in April 2022. How exciting. Here are some notes on how this show came to be, the curation process, and a reflection on the overall success of the show.

Finding Kay Gasei

In March 2020, my sister and I wrote a piece that went viral on Instagram called ‘Not All Men’ (you can find it here). A lot of things happened as a consequence and one of those things was that an artist called Kay Gasei drew a picture of a person reading the subsequent zine that my sister and I created.

Kay ended up sending me the original drawing and we chatted a little over Instagram about the post, his work, and art in general. I continued to follow Kay’s practice and began working at Reem Gallery in September 2021. I began to discuss the possibility of a London gallery with director Zaid Badda around Christmas, my initial proposal had a list of about 20 artists that we could do solo shows with and Kay was one of them.

As the London gallery became a reality, deciding who to choose as the opening artist rocketed to the top of the to-do list. We had two options: go with a big name, an established artist whose work was well sought after or choose an emerging artist, someone whose work excited us and would be fresh for our audience, both old and new.

It wasn’t a hard decision and I quickly made arrangements to see Kay.

Upon meeting

I first visited him at his studio in Bethnal Green, a sign writing shop where he used the space at the back as studio space. The shop itself was like stepping into a film set; beautifully crafted and calligraphed signs, on metal and wood hung and stacked and leant against one another. Irridescent gold hues and silvers topped thick, curved letters, the sun managing to slide past the crammed windows to glint off the corners. Behind all this was Kay amongst his work. Canvases atop paint cans, dripping onto dust sheets, stretched tautly. The air in the sign shop was thick, as any studio with oil paints and all the necessary companions always is. We chatted about the current works, commissions mostly, and he showed me his sketchbooks; tiny A6, black Moleskine books filled to every corner with black lines. The sketchbooks grew in size, until the compositions, worked and reworked, landed on canvas and were daubed with mustard yellows, dark reds, and forest green.

I left feeling the way one ought to feel when they have visited an artist’s studio; as if I had just been afforded the great privilege to see into someone’s soul.

Kay began to build the collection for his debut solo show, 'Epoché', which ended up consisting of 7 canvases and 6 drawings - all originals, all extraordinary. I visited him about a week before the show opened in his new flat which was functioning as a home studio so that in the lead-up to the show he could eradicate commute time. He made me a cup of tea and we stood on dust sheets looking at a familiar set up, but in a new location. The canvases were, once again, balanced against the wall atop paint cans, and there was a stack of wood in the corner (which he had picked up from a widow whose late husband had been an artist but would no longer be stretching canvases). With an open window, and a little more airflow, this time we weren’t being stifled by spirits and terpentine. We pulled the sofas to face each other and sat with my iPad in the middle, I pressed record and we chatted for about an hour whilst sipping herbal teas about Kay’s practice, the collection, and the projects that were in his near future.

You can listen to that podcast episode here.

Curation

Less than a week later, the canvases were delivered to the gallery and, armed with the detailed stories about each one, I began to arrange them on the four walls after adding D-hooks to each canvas.

“Inspired by the ancient Greek term meaning 'cessation' or the 'suspension of judgement', 'Epoché' is a collection of work that reminds us our harshest critic is ourself, and once you're not judging yourself, you're less likely to judge other people. The works fall broadly into three categories: those influenced by Gasei's inner workings, those exploring the communal experiences of living, and those which sink into culture, legend, and tales of old. Working from A6 notebooks up to the canvas in a range of media (crayon, brush pen, oil paint), Gasei refines the scene and narrative which are laden with references ranging from the philosophical to the mythical. Gasei’s work is political without being pious, sociologically insightful without being snobbish or sarcastic, and often deeply introspective whilst remaining inclusive and beckoning to the viewer.” - is what I wrote for the press release…

So, keeping in mind the theme of introspection, self-awareness and analysation, as well as the three categories, I positioned the two biggest works (which were also two that commented on self-judgement) opposite each other so that they looked like they were looking in on each other. The collection was generally hung in pairs related to the categories, so that the viewer could feel sandwiched between the themes, emotions, and narratives. The drawings were hung together so as not to distract from the bigger works, but also to allow the viewer to adjust their perception of scale and colour, given that these were much smaller and generally monochromatic.

I was asked almost daily throughout the duration of the show which piece was my favourite. It changed every day, but I was once moved to tears talking about ‘The Strange Fruit Grows No More’.

"From Billie Holiday’s song of which part of this piece’s title pays homage, the titular characters being Strange Fruit of her song don’t grow in the same way as mine. The tree of life my characters sprout from are born together with a freedom already enacted." - Kay Gasei

Opening

We opened the show, and the new gallery, on the 20th April and celebrated with about 300 other people who spilt out into the courtyard of the Ham Yard Village. The show was a roaring success, with new and old collectors finding great depth and beauty in Kay’s work.

A collection of prints were also available, prints of former works, and these too intrigued art lovers.

The podcast was enjoyed by many and added (another) layer to the work. It was a real privilege to work in a space every day adorned by the work of Kay; work which was so generous, so fascinating, so soul-filled, and which sat (self-awarely) in such a rich context of artists that had come before. I could talk about Kay’s work for hours, and I could look at it for longer.

Install shots below by Sian Cook Photography