I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to anyone who enjoys titling their artworks, aside from Johanna Hedva—they describe the process as delicious as “dessert” and their favorite part of making something. But perhaps it’s not a surprise that Hedva, a prolific writer and artist whose practice in language unfurls across disciplines, would take delight in nominal gestures like the forward slash that appears as a poetic break in the title of their current solo presentation “Gravity, My / Favorite Enemy” at Center for Art, Research and Alliances (CARA).

Language, as it is heard, felt, seen, held, and lived, is an important part of Hedva’s artmaking, allowing them to remain alert and curious in their search for form. The current exhibition centers on the death of Hedva’s Korean grandmother, their halmoni, who passed away in October 2023.