To you,

Loss:non:loss has started from the concept of a pair, like a counterpoint. 

The existence of two different elements: two artists, two curators, paper and ink, black and white, words and drawing, light and darkness, softness and firmness, and nature and city. 


Philosopher Byung-Chul Han said that loss and non-loss strengthen each other. Loss:non:loss means that paradox is a circulation. 


We would like to shed light on that reciprocal fall. How these two counterpoints fall to each other, lose themselves and acquire the hidden side of themselves. 


The moments that are depicted by Kristone Capistrano and Eric Kang are across two different spectacles that are from the pure nature’s repetition – sun to the human’s unstoppable desire – construction site in the city. 


Despite these differences, the consequence of falling toward each other presents a nostalgic scene in which the loss of moments and memories transforms into the non-loss of time through confronting and re-presenting that loss. 


Reflecting on memory, Filipino writer Nick Joaquin once wrote of memory as something that lives in fragments, returning not as a complete story but as sensation, image, and repetition. In this way, memory does not stay still. It moves through us, often without permission.


Then, we are holding questions toward one answer. 

What makes this paradox so beautiful? 

What allows the encounter between opposites to become a harmony? 

The answer we would like to suggest is slowness.

About the feeling of wanting a moment to last longer than it naturally can. A walk that stretches into evening. A conversation that stays with you after you’ve gone home. The way an artwork can briefly suspend time, even if only for a few seconds.

What if we could call artistic outputs traces of loss?

What if we could call the feeling you gain in front of them an acquisition of non-loss? 

And so, to travel through and experiment with the phase of loss:non:loss in this sense, we wrote letters to each other across weeks and months. Sometimes we wrote about Kristone and Eric’s artworks or about epistolary curating. Other times we wrote about exhaustion, memory, our families, our routines, or the strange feeling of trying to hold onto things while knowing they are already changing.

 Curating as caring, through the stretched durational conversation, we have connected our memories to the artworks. Could we say this inefficient process is a loss? The honest reflections that bloomed from this slow communication could also be a non-loss.  Maybe that is what loss:non:loss became for us. We began to think about the moment when an artist’s practice leaves the artist’s own intention as a moment of loss. And how that loss can still reach someone else, becoming a moment of non-loss. Perhaps this curating process with letters was an experiment in caring. 

Then, we hope you can capture not simply the absence of loss, but the feeling that something can still remain. A trace. A warmth. A gesture repeated enough times that it begins to outlive the moment itself.

We invite you to move slowly through this exhibition. To spend time with the works, with the materials, with whatever feelings or memories surface while you are here.

And if you would like to, there is also a small letter-writing space within the exhibition. You are welcome to sit, pause, and write. To us, to the artists, to someone you miss, or even to yourself. You may leave your letter in the post box, as part of this shared conversation.

Maybe while standing here, you will think of someone too.

From Arianne and Soomin.



Arianne Bulanos


Arianne Leonor Bulanos is a Western Sydney-based emerging curator, writer, and exhibitions practitioner completing a Master of Curating and Cultural Leadership at UNSW. Her practice centres on community-driven storytelling, diasporic identity, and collaborative exhibition-making, with particular interest in culturally informed curatorial methodologies and audience engagement.
Alongside her studies, she worked as Curatorial Assistant and Exhibitions Administrator at Liverpool Powerhouse, supporting exhibition development, artist liaison, registration, installation coordination, public programming, and interpretive material production across contemporary art and community-focused exhibitions.



Soomin Jeong


Soomin Jeong is an emerging curator and writer from Seoul, South Korea, now working on unceded Gadigal land. She recently completed a Master of Curating and Cultural Leadership at UNSW Art & Design, and has gained experience across art administration and curatorial practice, including at Art Busan (2024), Sydney Writers’ Festival (2025), Radio Insomnia, and the Sydney Arts Management Advisory Group (2026).

She approaches curating as a practice of shaping tender and open spaces of connection and care, fostering encounters and courageously proposing paths not yet mapped. She believes in the power of art to question, to care, and to carry unspoken memories.

We acknowledge the Traditional Custodians of the lands on which we gather and work. We pay our respects to the Dharug people of Rooty Hill and Plumpton, the Dharawal people of Wollongong and the Illawarra, the Gadigal people of the Eora Nation in Sydney, and the Cammeraygal people of Kirribilli. We honour Elders past and present and extend that respect to all First Nations peoples joining us today.