This group show was straightforward in execution: It consisted simply of one artwork from each artist arranged in the gallery’s rectangular main hall so as to encourage sequential viewing. Finding a line connecting Geng Jianyi’s use of readymades, Liang Shaoji’s silken sculpture, and Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s video installation (closely linked to his work as a filmmaker) might have seemed difficult, especially for a show without an explicit curatorial premise. Yet the formally distinct pieces all shared an airy indeterminacy, suggesting to the viewer additional layers of meaning lurking below

Kim Inbai titled one of his monographs Eliminate Points, Lines, and Planes (2014). That would be a bold commandment for any artist, but for one who works in the traditional media of sculpture and drawing, it reveals a truth so wise that very few ever grasp it, and those who do can rarely accept it: that to align yourself with the impossible is the only position worth considering.

Much of Kim’s work has taken the form of sculpture, but it has often been fed by drawing. He selects drawings to be turned into three-dimensional objects, and then as often as not draws upon those objects. The resulting