Won Seoungwon received M.F.A. from Kunstakademie Dusseldorf in 2002 and Kunsthochschule für Medien Köln in 2005. She is represented by Arario Gallery and currently lives and works in Seoul.
Won
Seoungwon’s artistic practice begins with the question, “Where do stories come
from?” Her early work My Life(1999) documented the small
objects inside a 2×4m room—pill packets, letters from her mother, socks, and
pieces of bread—through 628 photographs that were then compiled as a single
work, marking the starting point of transforming the most ordinary traces of
her life into a visual narrative. From this work onward, her interest shifted
toward “the life she can actually hold onto,” leading to a belief that a small
room, its objects, and individual memories can form an entire ‘world.’
Thereafter,
‘space and desire’ became the core axis of her practice. In the
‘Dreamroom’(2000–2004) series, she traveled around the world to collect images
that construct the ideal rooms desired by herself and her friends. On top of
real one-room apartment photographs, she overlays landscapes such as swamps,
rocks, and primeval forests to construct surreal environments. Works such as Dreamroom-Seoungwon
(2003) and Dreamroom-Tina(2000) place the narrow,
suffocating spaces of reality against “the landscapes of desire lying beneath,”
foreshadowing the consistent attitude across her practice—seeing reality and
imagination simultaneously.
From the
late 2000s, her subject matter expanded outward—from herself, to those around
her, and then to broader members of society.
The Tomorrow(2008) series and the exhibition 《Tomorrow》(Alternative Space LOOP, 2008)
begin from daily episodes of family, friends, and colleagues, forming fictional
village scenes where past, present, and imagined future intertwine. The ‘Seven
Years Old’(2010) series presented in the solo exhibition 《1978, Seven Years Old》 reconstructs the
artist’s first experience of separation from her mother through her niece and a
symbolic tree, turning a personal trauma into a narrative of healing. Here, the
young niece stands in for the artist at age seven, and the tree symbolizes the
absent mother, demonstrating how rewriting one’s own life can open up a path
toward empathy.
Since the
2010s, she has expanded from personal narratives to the identities and
emotional structures of ‘social subjects.’ In her solo exhibition 《The Sight of the Others》(Arario Gallery,
2017), works such as The Quarries of Financiers(2017) and The
Sea of Journalists(2017) metaphorically transform specific
professional groups—public officials, journalists, financiers—into rocky
mountains, seas, or clusters of animals, questioning how occupations define
lives and identities. In her recent solo exhibitions 《Freezing
Point of All》(Museum Hanmi, 2022–2023) and 《The Inaudible Audible》(Arario Gallery,
2021), she visualizes superiority and inferiority coexisting within “successful
people,” as well as loose networks and anxious mental states, through motifs
such as icy mountains, trees, droplets of water, and ‘Ordinary Loose Network,’
thus addressing the psychological landscapes of contemporary individuals on a
more universal level.
Formally,
Won Seoungwon’s work is based on digital photo-collage, while in content it
encompasses a hybrid of painting, installation, and literary narratives. She
records subjects with meticulous precision—photographing a single tree in as
many as 60 segments—and assembles hundreds to thousands of images into a single
scene as if composing an “image novel.” While My Life
constructed an installation-like arrangement of objects inside a room, this
spatial sensibility later becomes absorbed into fictional landscapes, making
the picture plane itself a stage and a world.
In series
such as ‘Dreamroom,’ ‘Tomorrow’, and ‘Seven Years Old’(2012), the imagery
always contains “fragments of reality we have seen somewhere,” yet through
their unconventional combinations they form worlds of entirely different
layers. Works such as Seven Years Old–The Chaos Kitchen(2010),
Seven Years Old–Azalea Boiled Rice and Chrysanthemum(2010),
and Seven Years Old–Bed-Wetter’s Laundering(2010) transform
familiar domestic spaces into psychological environments that simultaneously
hold anxiety and comfort, through excessive objects, flora and fauna, and
strangely scaled elements. The narrative is conveyed without text, with each
scene composed like a children’s story—carrying emotional rise and resolution.
Over time,
her collage approach has evolved into more complex and increasingly abstract
forms. In 《The Sight of the Others》, the barren rocky terrain, naked trees, sagging electric wires, and
lightbulbs in The Quarries of Financiers symbolize
professional desires and insecurities, and the circulation of capital.
Meanwhile, works such as The Grass That Used to Be There(2022)
from 《Freezing Point of All》
and Grand Waterfall(2021) and Ordinary Network(2021)
from 《The Inaudible Audible》no
longer reveal specific figures or occupations directly. Instead, motifs such as
ice, droplets, branches, grass, and loose networks metaphorize “poorly handled
inferiority,” “fragile bonds,” and “willpower that grows even in frozen conditions,”
shifting the content toward psychological and emotional planes.
The
distinct sense of estrangement in her compositions stems from technical
decisions. Although based on real landscapes, the scenes are never taken in a
single shot but stitched from many segments with slightly mismatched
perspectives and vanishing points, producing “impossible landscapes.” The near
absence of shadows flattens the image, yet within it coexist multiple times,
seasons, elevations, and distances simultaneously. Tens of thousands of shots,
thousands of selected elements, and thousands of hand-crafted layers—along with
up to ten hours of daily labor—reinsert analog temporality and physicality into
a digitally constructed medium. In this way, form and content are inseparable:
as she describes, “it’s not the forest, but the story of each tree”—the forest
in her work is not a natural sum, but a fabricated relationship formed by
thousands of edited fragments.
Won Seoungwon has established a distinct position in contemporary
Korean photography and image-making by merging staged photography with
narrative-based imagery. Within the strong documentary tradition of Korean
photography, she has built a unique middle ground of “fiction grounded in
reality” by capturing real objects and landscapes and reconstructing them into
newly imagined worlds. Over the past 20 years since My Life,
her work has demonstrated that photography can exceed documentation and become
a psychological and narrative space.
This approach is reflected in her recognition and institutional
presence. Through solo exhibitions such as 《The Sight of the Others》, 《Freezing Point of All》, and 《The Inaudible Audible》, she has examined the
lives of social others, her own childhood anxieties, and the inner structures
of the successful. She has been selected as the recipient of the 23rd DongGang
Photography Award in 2025, establishing her as a key figure in contemporary
Korean photography. Her works are housed in major Korean museums—including the
National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, Seoul Museum of Art, Gyeonggi
Museum of Modern Art, Museum Hanmi, and GoEun Museum of Photography—as well as
international institutions such as the Osthaus Museum (Germany), Santa Barbara
Museum of Art (USA), and Mori Art Museum (Japan), enabling diverse
interpretations of her work across cultural contexts.
Her practice holds strong potential for broader international
reception, thanks to the universal resonance of her themes—superiority and
inferiority, anxiety and relationships, profession and identity, childhood
wounds and adult self-understanding. At the same time, the dense symbolic codes
drawn from Korean professional structures, social systems, and familial
dynamics maintain a grounded locality. It is anticipated that she will continue
to develop “expanded narratives dealing with social subjects, collectives, and
psychological structures,” persistently generating new scenes at the boundary
between reality and imagination.
Won Seoungwon, Tomorrow-Dog
Village, 2008 © Won Seoungwon
The
artist, who used to roll around a cramped 8-square-meter room dreaming of
living in a wide, open space, one day realized that her friends were having the
same dream. She then decided to present twelve of her friends with the rooms
they dreamed of. Of course, she did not possess extraordinary wealth, nor did
she have the skills to build actual houses. But she did have the
willingness to listen closely to her friends’ stories, a digital camera, a
computer that—like the genie of Aladdin’s lamp—allowed her to cut and paste the
photographs she collected through endless legwork, and above all, the endurance
to sit in front of her computer all day, manipulating a tablet pen until her
neck stiffened. —From the Dreamroom project
The
exhibition 《Tomorrow》 begins with two lightboxes showing the “dream rooms” of Won
Seoungwon and Lee Baekyung. By choosing lightboxes rather than conventional
photographic prints, the two glowing dream rooms guide viewers into the world
of Tomorrow, much like fireflies illuminating a dark
forest path. Because Tomorrow shares similarities
in technique and process with Dreamroom, it is easy to
mistake it as simply another wish-fulfillment project following the previous
one. However, Tomorrow is clearly more developed
than the earlier work.
First, Tomorrow contains
the artist’s unique perception of time. Her “tomorrow” is not a simple next
day; it is a tomorrow in which the traces of yesterday accumulate and yesterday
and today coexist. Another difference from the earlier work lies in the complex
web of “relationships” that unfolds across the images. Episodes emerge within
various relationships—from A Woman with Apple-Red Cheeks and a
Man Who Loves Smelt Fishing, to A Husband Who Loves
Bukhansan and a Wife Who Loves Seoraksan, to the artists of the
Goyang Studio 3rd Residency who once lived like family. Rather than a flat
photograph, the work resembles a pop-up picture book that continually reveals
new spaces and times behind each scene.
Between
the pages of this visual storybook, the artist inserts bits of her own
narrative through small drawings. Although she had occasionally used modest
drawings in prior exhibitions, this is the first time she has presented them as
a major component of her work. Perhaps she had grown a bit weary of addressing
only the stories of those around her, or perhaps, after spending so much time
clicking away on digital tools, she longed for the tactile act of making
something directly by hand. Most of all, however, it seems she wished to reveal
her own emotions and inner stories through drawing, adding them to the
narratives of her acquaintances.
Yet
despite the curiosity these drawings evoke—enough to make viewers eagerly
anticipate her next exhibition—there remains the slight regret that the show
attempted to present perhaps too much all at once.