Who else is obsessed with wild animals who become celebrities — living, as they often do, in the thick of human society? In 2023, I was gripped by the news about Flaco, the owl who escaped the Central Park Zoo and flew free in Manhattan for a full year. For Korean-born, New York–based artist Minjae Kim, it was P-22, the mountain lion who famously lived in LA’s Griffith Park from 2012 to until his death in 2022, who triggered the concept for Kim’s latest exhibition at Marta gallery. Called Phantom-22, the show represents the “passage of creatures, ideas, and topographies that define Los Angeles as it continues its constant shift between fantasy and reality,” which Kim examines through this comprehensive body of work playing on several LA tropes. 

Phantom-22 is Kim’s second solo show at Marta, following I Was Evening All Afternoon in 2021, and the show is named after the lion as well as other “spectres of the city” who remain alone for most of their existence. For many, P-22’s solitude came to represent the distance and isolation that many Angelenos experience due to the city’s geography, sprawl, and siloed neighborhoods. At Marta, Kim aims to create a space for the city’s inhabitants to convene and escape this “catch-22” — another reference to the exhibition title — but it’s not immediately clear whether the exhibition is a love letter to or a critique of the city. 

Mountain lions sculpted from plaster or resin patrol the perimeter of the gallery, which is filled with a wide variety of new works that resist categorization. Part sculpture, part prop-making, the works also toy with the question of who is allowed to make “art” in such a Hollywood-adjacent capacity. Materials like wood, paint, clay, plaster, aluminum, and fiberglass are all used to fabricate the pieces, amongst which highlights include a “skunk” with its tail raised, and a lime-green cabinet comprising translucent fiberglass doors overlaid with a grid pattern.

Another important reference for the exhibition was Buster Keaton’s iconic 1920 silent film One Week, from which Kim translated the practical effects and set-building traditions into a variety of small-scale architectural follies and scenographic elements. The plot of the movie is classic Money Pit: “newlyweds attempting to construct a build-it-yourself home, where everything that [can] go wrong, does.” Kim’s structures often resemble the elements of such a residence, including tall fiberglass panels that emulate clapboard siding, and wood and fiberglass room dividers. A wooden bar shelf is installed in a corner, accompanied by a trio of stools with raw silk upholstery, footrests and gearshift–like handles that allow them to be moved around. 

Other pieces on show include chairs with blue velvet seats and waxed canvas draped over their backs to look as though they’re wearing oversized shirts — a nod to Keaton’s character in One Week — while a giant lamp features a palm-like trunk and fronds as another nod to iconic LA motifs. There’s also a wood and fiberglass sculpture that vaguely resembles a vintage car, mounted on casters so it can be rolled through the gallery at will. Finally, a collection of tiny clay “LA pedestrians” positioned in active poses — whether sitting, arguing, yoga stretching, or taking photos — represent a sample of the interactions that the city’s diverse population have with this very unique urban environment, just like its fauna. Phantom-22 is on view at Marta until May 31.

PHOTOS BY ERIK BENJAMIN & DOMINIK TARABANSKI