Wish you were here (August 22 – September 30, 2026) is the first Korean solo show by visual artist Brett Charles Seiler (Zimbabwe, 1994). Inside the spaces of The Third Gallery in Seoul, Seiler’s paintings and wooden sculptures open up an evocative, poetic journey through the most varied, layered and profound rooms of the mind. Born in Zimbabwe and a tireless traveler across lands, continents and seas, the artist builds for the occasion the itinerary and the space of a relationship that lives on precariousness, on fluid nuances and on the strength to tell solitudes that never give up, never lived in the name of a hopeless despair.

The archetype of the small, boundless room of a traveler emerges in the choice to turn a tiny wooden suitcase into the territory of an art experience, loaded with symbolism and references. Discarded materials, aphorisms, deeply personal evocations and a constant nod to suspension accompany a path crossed by the traces of a dynamic, living relationship.

The artist’s early experiments long relied on photography, a medium that has never stopped inspiring the painted rendering of presences and silhouettes, fixed onto the large, flowing canvases Seiler creates.

Going, coming back, staying and the constant leaving again map out an intimate journey made of bodies and solitudes, which end up speaking to the personal experience of every viewer too. The outlines of multiple homes, sketched out and temporary, meet the warmth of a familiar affection, sparked by encounters with the presences and souls crossed along a road that glows with the most precious, irreplaceable kind of growth.

Brett Charles Seiler’s baggage gathers experiences, thoughts and reflections that turn to art to fix, on the surface and within the material, the untamable strength of lives that are often fragile, doubtful and lovingly yearning. The emotions born from a more nuanced materiality often rest on a bitumen background, used and worked as a nod to the material at the heart of building cities and urban spaces. Applied thick or diluted into broad, translucent veins, on canvas it carries the passage, both conceptual and metaphorical, of an idea devoted to the energy of materials.

A constellation of mental cages, interstices of feeling and spaces open to encounter presides over the atmosphere of an exhibition that is precious precisely because it is personal, and deeply faithful to its own poetry.