MORE ABOUT
MORE ABOUT
ARTIST
ARTIST
Beyond the artwork, discover the story of the artist
Beyond the artwork,
discover the story
of the artist
Beyond the artwork, discover the story of the artist
10+
YEars of experience
50+
Completed Projects
10
exhibitoins
ABOUT DEOKMEE BANG
DEOKMEE Bang is a Korean-born artist based in Brossard, whose practice explores the traces of life, the passage of time, and the subtle movements of unseen energy. Growing up in the natural landscapes of Pocheon shaped her early artistic sensibility, and years of photographing wildflowers in Jeju further refined her attentive eye to organic detail. Her background in Architectural Drafting has also informed the structural clarity and spatial awareness that characterize her compositions.
Working with acrylic, oil, cold wax, and mother-of-pearl layered onto the painted surface, Bang creates works that shift between figuration and abstraction. Her paintings visualize a sense of interconnectedness—akin to quantum entanglement—through accumulated layers, fragmented structures, and rhythmic surfaces. Quiet yet powerful, her works invite viewers into a contemplative space, encouraging emotional and philosophical reflection through the presence of the unseen.
ABOUT DEOKMEE BANG
DEOKMEE Bang is a Korean-born artist based in Brossard, whose practice explores the traces of life, the passage of time, and the subtle movements of unseen energy. Growing up in the natural landscapes of Pocheon shaped her early artistic sensibility, and years of photographing wildflowers in Jeju further refined her attentive eye to organic detail. Her background in Architectural Drafting has also informed the structural clarity and spatial awareness that characterize her compositions.
Working with acrylic, oil, cold wax, and mother-of-pearl layered onto the painted surface, Bang creates works that shift between figuration and abstraction. Her paintings visualize a sense of interconnectedness—akin to quantum entanglement—through accumulated layers, fragmented structures, and rhythmic surfaces. Quiet yet powerful, her works invite viewers into a contemplative space, encouraging emotional and philosophical reflection through the presence of the unseen.
THROUGH THE EYES OF OTHERS.
THROUGH THE EYES OF OTHERS.
THROUGH THE EYES OF OTHERS.
"stealing what cannot be stolen,"
Bang Deok-mi captures the awe of nature with a mindset of "stealing what cannot be stolen," using diverse materials as a painter. As a child, she was a girl too timid to draw lines on rain-soaked sandy ground with a twig. Now, she pours that very hesitation into vividly transferring nature's beauty onto canvas. Her works brim with flowers, mountains, and water seeping through like living breaths. The wondrous forms—too sublime even to imitate—come alive as soft, breathing images. She gently steals nature's awe. With a faint line drawn in quiet courage, she seizes the essence flowing over it as an inner image. There, nature meets her emotions, capturing fleeting special moments forever. Bang Deok-mi cherishes these ephemeral instants in her heart. Through oils, acrylics, wax, sand, and mother-of-pearl on wood panels and canvas, she reveals nature intertwined with feeling. Nature's awe passes through the door of her mind to emerge as art before us. Perhaps her works might just steal a piece of our hearts too.
KIMETARX
ARTIST
"stealing what cannot be stolen,"
Bang Deok-mi captures the awe of nature with a mindset of "stealing what cannot be stolen," using diverse materials as a painter. As a child, she was a girl too timid to draw lines on rain-soaked sandy ground with a twig. Now, she pours that very hesitation into vividly transferring nature's beauty onto canvas. Her works brim with flowers, mountains, and water seeping through like living breaths. The wondrous forms—too sublime even to imitate—come alive as soft, breathing images. She gently steals nature's awe. With a faint line drawn in quiet courage, she seizes the essence flowing over it as an inner image. There, nature meets her emotions, capturing fleeting special moments forever. Bang Deok-mi cherishes these ephemeral instants in her heart. Through oils, acrylics, wax, sand, and mother-of-pearl on wood panels and canvas, she reveals nature intertwined with feeling. Nature's awe passes through the door of her mind to emerge as art before us. Perhaps her works might just steal a piece of our hearts too.
KIMETARX
ARTIST
A personal
A personal
A personal
reflection
reflection
reflection
from the artist
from the artist
from the artist
WHY I PAINT
I was never good at drawing as a child, and because of that, I disliked it. The sand after rain— beautifully spread out like a canvas primed with white gesso— always made my heart flutter, yet I could not bring myself to draw on it freely. If I drew something with a fallen branch, it felt as though I would only make the place dirty. And so, fifty years passed. I wanted to be free, without hesitation. The gently soaked ground is beautiful, but I came to believe that it is also all right to leave marks upon it. I am human. I feel, I think, I distort, I accumulate things within me. I have a desire to express them, to share them, to let them unfold. There is a formless outcry, shaped through encounters with the world. In order to breathe, these things had to go out. Through a door of my own
WHY I PAINT
I was never good at drawing as a child, and because of that, I disliked it. The sand after rain— beautifully spread out like a canvas primed with white gesso— always made my heart flutter, yet I could not bring myself to draw on it freely. If I drew something with a fallen branch, it felt as though I would only make the place dirty. And so, fifty years passed. I wanted to be free, without hesitation. The gently soaked ground is beautiful, but I came to believe that it is also all right to leave marks upon it. I am human. I feel, I think, I distort, I accumulate things within me. I have a desire to express them, to share them, to let them unfold. There is a formless outcry, shaped through encounters with the world. In order to breathe, these things had to go out. Through a door of my own
What I Have Painted, and What I Continue to Paint
There are flowers I planted in my yard. They are wondrous. Their delicate colors and forms feel almost forbidden to imitate. With the 마음 of stealing what cannot be stolen, I tried to carry them onto the canvas. I look at mountains and water. Autumn and winter, spring and summer. Colors and forms flow. After taking countless photographs with my eyes, there comes a moment when, even without looking, an image takes itself. That is when I paint. I must catch the moment when it descends from the head to the chest, before it quietly sinks into the ground. Some things never disappear. The mind called “I,” the sum of memory. These things tend to flow backward— starting at the navel, stirring through the chest for a long while, then briefly rising to the head. Longing, love, memory, anger, dreams, beauty, and beauty once again. I seek a mind lighter than a feather. I want to be free from time and space. Through material and ordinary things, I try to express what disappears and what is remembered only for a moment— paradoxically.
What I Have Painted, and What I Continue to Paint
There are flowers I planted in my yard. They are wondrous. Their delicate colors and forms feel almost forbidden to imitate. With the 마음 of stealing what cannot be stolen, I tried to carry them onto the canvas. I look at mountains and water. Autumn and winter, spring and summer. Colors and forms flow. After taking countless photographs with my eyes, there comes a moment when, even without looking, an image takes itself. That is when I paint. I must catch the moment when it descends from the head to the chest, before it quietly sinks into the ground. Some things never disappear. The mind called “I,” the sum of memory. These things tend to flow backward— starting at the navel, stirring through the chest for a long while, then briefly rising to the head. Longing, love, memory, anger, dreams, beauty, and beauty once again. I seek a mind lighter than a feather. I want to be free from time and space. Through material and ordinary things, I try to express what disappears and what is remembered only for a moment— paradoxically.
With What, and How I Paint
I do not wish to limit myself, yet I am always limited. “Oil paint can be layered, so it must be easier than watercolor.” That was how I began with oil. I painted thickly, and I painted thinly. Along the way, I encountered acrylics, minhwa pigments, and watercolors, and I also turned to other materials and methods— wax, sand, texture paste, and objects. Hanji feels as though it is connected to me at the level of DNA. Made through traditional processes using natural materials rooted in agriculture, hanji is noble in itself. Wax, remelted at home for painting, is better suited to a knife than to a brush. The process of applying and scraping it away is both enjoyable and deep. It may lack fine detail, but it is a comfortable, companion-like material. Wood panels are well suited for working with wax or mother-of-pearl. Mother-of-pearl is a traditional Korean craft material. Colors that come from nature are magically subtle, yet they do not allow themselves to be handled easily. I once sought out a master artisan of mother-of-pearl, but before the precision and complexity of the craft, I lost even the will to learn. So instead, I grind it, cut it, and use it in my own way. Oil paint on canvas is like a mother that accepts any idea. As long as I continue to paint, canvas and oil will always remain with me
With What, and How I Paint
I do not wish to limit myself, yet I am always limited. “Oil paint can be layered, so it must be easier than watercolor.” That was how I began with oil. I painted thickly, and I painted thinly. Along the way, I encountered acrylics, minhwa pigments, and watercolors, and I also turned to other materials and methods— wax, sand, texture paste, and objects. Hanji feels as though it is connected to me at the level of DNA. Made through traditional processes using natural materials rooted in agriculture, hanji is noble in itself. Wax, remelted at home for painting, is better suited to a knife than to a brush. The process of applying and scraping it away is both enjoyable and deep. It may lack fine detail, but it is a comfortable, companion-like material. Wood panels are well suited for working with wax or mother-of-pearl. Mother-of-pearl is a traditional Korean craft material. Colors that come from nature are magically subtle, yet they do not allow themselves to be handled easily. I once sought out a master artisan of mother-of-pearl, but before the precision and complexity of the craft, I lost even the will to learn. So instead, I grind it, cut it, and use it in my own way. Oil paint on canvas is like a mother that accepts any idea. As long as I continue to paint, canvas and oil will always remain with me