한국 사회에서, 젊은 연인들이 공공장소에서 거리낌 없이 애정표현을 할 수 있게 된 것은 그리 얼마 되지 않았다. 사실 아직까지도, 대낮에 사람들이 많은 곳이나 어르신들 앞에서의 애정표현은 ‘예의 없는 짓’으로 여겨지곤 한다.
그러나 해가 진 거리를 젊은이들이 메우기 시작하면, 연인들의 애정표현은 거침없어진다. 예전 세대와는 다르게 자신의 감정에 솔직할 줄 알며 직설적으로 표현할 줄 아는 젊은 세대의 존재감을 온몸으로 표현하는 듯하다.
때문에 주로 막차시간이 가까운 늦은 시간, 서울과 수원의 거리에서 촬영한 젊은 연인들의 이미지를 통해 사랑을 둘러싼 여러 가지 감정들, 그리고 나아가 우리 세대의 단면을 표현하고자 하였다.
In Korean society, young lovers have not been able to express their affection in public places. In fact, the expression of affection in places where there are many people in the daytime and in front of elderly people is still regarded as “disgraceful.”
However, when young people start to fill the sunny streets, lovers’ expressions of affection appear. Unlike the previous generation, it seems it’s the young generation who knows how to be honest with their feelings and expresses them directly.
Therefore, I wanted to express various emotions surrounding love through the images of young lovers photographed in the streets of Seoul and Suwon.
Bio: 박인화는 1990년 수원에서 태어났다. 단국대학교 공연영화학부(Dept of Theater & Film)에서 영화 연출을 전공했으나 졸업 후 2년 동안 백수로 지내면서, ‘남들은 도대체 어떻게 사는지’ 관찰하기 위해 거리 사진을 찍기 시작했다. 3편의 단편영화를 연출했으며, 단편영화 <기생(Parasite)>은 제9회 서울세계단편영화제(Seoul World Short Film & Video Festival) 에서 입선했다. 현재에는 <연인들> 연작을 비롯한 거리 사진과 영화 작업을 이어가고 있다.
Park Inhwa was born in Suwon in 1990. He majored in film directing at Dankook University’s Department of Theater & Film, but spent two years as a jobless man after graduating, and began taking street pictures to observe how ‘others live’. He directed three short films. The short film, Parasite, was selected at the 9th Seoul World Short Film & Video Festival. Currently, he continues to work on street photography and film, including the series “Lovers.”
To see more of Inhwa Park’s works, you can follow him on Instagram.
On August 6th, 2017, Korea Photo Review was proud to officially launch our first quarterly issue and exhibition celebrating the works of 17 talented photographers. Needless to say, the Korea Photo Review: Exhibition and Launch was a big success! Many people came out to see the works and support the artists. We sold many copies of our magazine, sold about 10 prints by the end of the event (100% of which goes to the artists,) and most important of all, we heard from you – the local community that there is an interest in a publication dedicated to promoting the works of photographers making stories about Korea.
We want to thank the host and staff at G-15 Sonnendeck for opening up their beautiful space to us, everyone who participated in the creation of our magazine and helped us throughout the event, and those who came out to spend their Sunday afternoon with us.
Our first issue of Korea Photo Review also features contributions from nine photographers in our “Reader’s Gallery.” They are: Ken Shin, Wynsum Foreman, Ali Safavi, Michael Kennedy, AC Parsons, Edward Rivera, 황준희, Eugene Lee, and Lidija Baard.
한국은 아시아에서는 4번째, 세계적으로 11번째로 큰 경제 규모를 가지고 있는 국가다. 빠른 속도로 근대화를 이룩하고 경제적 기반을 잡은 반면 그에 따른 양극화 현상도 큰 나라가 바로 한국이다.나 역시도 한국, 그리고 ‘서울’의 변화가 놀랍다. 일 년에 한 번 귀국할 때마다 낡은 건물이 고층 빌딩으로 바뀌 어져 있고 사람들의 옷차림 등을 통해 유행이 빠르게 변화하고 있다는 것을 발견하는데, 그 이면에 숨겨진 외로 움과 고독한 풍경도 마주하게 된다.“Hidden Landscape” 프로젝트는 우리가 일상에서 놓치고 있는 부분에 대한 물음에서 시작됐다. 어쩌면 익 숙해셔버려 자각하지 못하는 우리의 감정- 슬픔, 우울함 을 깨닫게 하는 것이 작업의 출발선이었다. 오랜 시간 서울에 살았고, ‘제 3자’가 된 나의 시선으로 서울의 ‘삶’과 ‘시간’, 그리고 단상을 사진으로 담았다.
As a photographer, I trace absence in all its manifestations to capture the various aspects of isolation and loneliness in human life. I’m keenly interested in human beings, their environment, and the tension that exists between the presence and absence of human’s life.
The economy of South Korea is the 4th largest economy in Asia and the 11th largest in the world and famous for its spectacular growth from one of the poorest countries to an advanced, high-income nation in just a single generation. It remains today one of the fastest growing developed countries in the world. I’ve learned that in fast growing developed countries, there is always a serious gap between the rich and the poor. I live in New York, but I visit S. Korea once each year. Every time I return, I am surprised by the sudden changes I see. Seoul surprises me with its changed trends and the destruction of historical buildings to create new trendy buildings. The gap between rich and poor is growing ever worse.
Here, I try to capture the details of that hierarchy the feelings of loneliness and isolation in Seoul. I explore the material choices we make in our lives and how those choices determine who we are. I always been interested in the environment we live in and how we create it and how our environment shows the world our true face. This project thus asks whether you know where you live and how it looks. Because I visit my hometown only once in a while, I notice these changes quickly. However, I don’t believe the people who live there see them the same way. I believe that photography has its own unique language, and indeed these photographs are an invitation for you to see and consider the unseen in life.
Bio: Minjin Kang is a contemporary photographic artist based in Brooklyn, NY. She moved to the United States in 2008 where she received her BFA at School of the Art Institute of Chicago (2011). In 2014, she acquired her MFA at University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Her work has been exhibited in the U.S nationally and internationally such as Asia contemporary Art Show in Hong Kong, Arpny and bcs gallery in NYC, and Aqua Art Miami in FL.
‘양반탈’은 정부 프로파간다를 만드는 것에 지칠 대로 지친 익명의 공무원이다. 2010년 어느 날, 그는 양반탈을 쓰고 건설 현장에서 사진을 찍었다. 나중에 사진을 되돌아보며 그는 더 깊은 의미를 발견하게 되었다. 본래 하회마을의 농민들은 풍년을 기원하는 탈놀이를 할 때 양반탈을 써서 지배계급인 양반들을 조롱하였다. 탈춤꾼들은 (턱이 분리된) 이 나무 탈들에 혼령이 깃들어있다고 말한다. ‘양반탈’은 양반탈에 정말로 혼령이 깃들어있는 진 모르겠지만, 어두운 곳에서 양반탈을 쓰고 있으면 혼자라는 생각은 들지 않는다.
Yangbantal is an anonymous photo project, started by a government employee seeking an escape from the doldrums of nationalistic propaganda. One day in 2010, he put on a mask and took selfies in a construction site, which on later examination seemed to present a deeper meaning. The yangban mask used comes from Hahoe Village in Andong, North Gyeongsang Province. Peasants there originally used the mask in ritualistic exorcism dances which lambasted the ruling class that made their lives miserable. Maskdance performers consider the highly expressive masks to possess their own spirits. The wearer of Yangbantal is unsure if this is true, and the spirit of the Yangbantal mask doubts whether its wearer possesses his own soul, but both see eye-to-eye when it comes to consuming actual spirits.
How did you find yourself with a career in photography and eventually as Chief photographer for AFP in North and South Korea?
A misspent youth, old copies of Nat Geo on the bookshelf at the back of class, and knocking on a lot of doors. I worked my way up through full-time yet relatively short stints at a few small news agencies in the UK, which led to a staff position at one daily newspaper, and then another. By the time I was 25 I had talked my way into a freelance assignment with AFP, which gradually became more regular. I left my newspaper job in Edinburgh in an effort to be more available, and about a year later I moved to Paris to work on AFP’s photo desk. From there I moved to postings in Hong Kong, then Beijing, and now Seoul.
What are your day to day duties as Chief Photographer?
I coordinate with my colleagues from text and video about the day’s events and monitor stories that may develop into something that we need to cover, which includes keeping an eye on local media. There may be text feature stories which we need to illustrate, and similarly if there are photo-driven stories that I think may be of interest to the reporters then I let them know. Occasionally we might receive requests from other offices for coverage of events concerning their respective countries, or contributions to agency-wide photo packages that we need to respond to. I also need to message our regional headquarters in Hong Kong to let them know what we have planned for the day, which ends up as part of a global agenda for our clients.
How do you compete to get your stories out before the other news agencies?
The photographers from the other foreign news agencies here often work closely together. They are all very outstanding photographers and operators, and have known each other for many years. The common goal we face in meeting a perpetual deadline means that the competitive element is often aimed at how each of us interprets any given story and whether we can bring new information to it, rather than the mere minutes between the time our photos hit the wire. But away from the camera logistics and diplomacy are important when covering any story, and an ability to be adaptive and sensitive to the surroundings can all add up to getting pictures to out quicker – although accuracy is always more important than speed. As for gear, I usually carry a laptop or iPad for editing and filing outside the office, and if needed I can use a wifi device on the camera to send pictures immediately to an ftp channel that can be accessed by any of our editing desks around the world.
Do you ever have spare time to work on personal projects? If so, what draws you to these projects?
So far I have not felt the need to differentiate between personal projects and my work for AFP, as the subjects that interest me on a personal level are aligned with that. Providing projects are in keeping with the principles of journalism we have a fair amount of creative freedom which allows me to experiment with subject matter and medium. I am predominantly drawn to human interest stories, but also to subjects that will allow me to try certain techniques from slow shutter speeds to softboxes, for example.
Can you please tell me a bit about your street photography in Seoul? What are you trying to capture while in Korea?
I love the idea of showing people who have never been to (North or South) Korea what this place looks like, and I spend a lot of time exploring new locations or revisiting old ones while looking for images that can be used to illustrate various facets of Korean life. Generally I try to trust my intuition as to what might make an interesting image, although this means I often find myself loitering on street corners during sunset. I also try to capture Seoul in a way that does not rely on an approach or aesthetic that is too overbearing, as I feel the pictures belong not entirely to me but rather the people in them and others in years to come, who might need a visual reference of these times.
When working on a series or an assignment, do you plan what you want to capture or do you develop the theme as you experience the day to day?
I think it depends on the assignment or story. I will usually try to plan how to cover something but not how to shoot it. By that I mean trying to make sure that I am in the right place for the right moments, but not to shoot those moments in a way that is too preconceived. However there are plenty of occasions where there might be an obvious need (with a portrait series for example) to ensure an element of continuity that will lend itself to the final edit.
How much of the tension and emotions of a situation affect your photography?
There is absolutely a point where these things affect the way I shoot, the question is where that point is. I find it happens less with mass displays of emotion such as political rallies, when I might be too preoccupied with moving around and trying to figure out how things will unfold, and more when photographing individuals or groups facing adversity, for example. In those cases I try to find a balance between a desire to be empathetic and a need to be respectfully assertive so as not to do a disservice to the need to cover the story.
What was the most tense moment you have experienced? What did you do in this situation?
Its difficult to say. I’ve been mugged at knife-point, tried to sleep amid indiscriminate incoming mortar fire, and been forcibly detained. On those occasions I like to think I’ve stayed mostly calm, and tried to hold on to my memory cards. But I have colleagues and friends who face the terrifying prospect of bomb attacks and threats against their families, on a daily basis, simply for being photographers. Next to that I would be embarrassed to say I have ever experienced a tense moment.
During moments where time and patience are unavailable, how do you blend in to capture candid moments?
I don’t necessarily try to blend in, although I absolutely think its important to avoid attention. Most of the time I have a valid reason to be there, so I try to be decisive and observant and usually that’s enough.
The AFP formally opened a bureau in Pyongyang in September 2016, with this access, what are some projects you would like to create? What have you experienced, but have not yet been able to photograph?
Due to being able to travel regularly between North and South, I am working on a few projects that look at the peninsula as a whole. So much of reporting from either country involves elements of the other, that to me this makes sense. Generally it is possible to photograph the things that I am able to ‘experience’ in North Korea, although perhaps not always as extensively as I would like. During trips outside Pyongyang we often pass towns and villages that I would love to stop and shoot in, but which for obvious reasons is for the most part not possible.
How do you usually build rapport with the subjects in your portraits? How did this process change while working on Faces of Pyongyang?
I show an interest in what they are doing, introduce myself, and take it from there. At the start the concept of stopping people for portraits was relatively new to our colleagues there, who also act as our guides, so it was important to make the actual process quick and as collaborative in order to get them on-board with the idea. Most people are pretty happy to have their portraits taken, and I often visit them on subsequent trips to take them prints. In the beginning I had thought about using a hasselblad, or a softbox, but it would have been too difficult and time consuming to set up on top of carrying two or three DSLRs and multiple lenses. And in any case I didn’t want to augment the feel of the portraits that I think should reflect as much as possible the conditions they are taken in.
Would you have any advice for aspiring photographers? If you had to start all over again, what advice would you give yourself?
I’m absolutely not qualified to give advice to others because times change, photography is subjective, and I will always have lots to learn.
As for advice to my younger self, I might say: photography in journalism is just a medium that is used to tell stories and is often of the same if not of secondary importance to the ability to identify and understand those stories…so go and study something.
Youth Blood is a collection of photographs about an older generation in Korea. It’s an outsider’s perspective of what it is like to be older. What role these people play in society, how they are perceived, their energy, and their ongoing contributions.
Hon Hoang is a Vietnamese-American street, portrait, and event photographer currently based in South Korea. He was born in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, but grew up in Los Angeles, California. He began studying Photography shortly after graduating from UCLA where he studied Psychology. He sees Photography as a medium that answers questions, satisfies curiosity, and showcases the things that are often left unseen.
Bus shelters. An ordinary everyday structure people take for granted. Some are made with traditional materials such as wood, bricks and mortar. Others are assembled together with prefabricated parts of glass and metal. On their own, they’re just man-made objects to keep people out of the elements. If one is damaged, another one will simply take its place. People never take a second look at them. Neither do they think of them as special. But they have a place in people’s subconscious; a sense of familiarity, a sense of origin, a sense of belonging. Bus shelters represent where you’re from; the starting point of your journey in the morning and the final destination in the evening. Bus shelters are a communal area. It’s a place where people come together to talk about their day, how their families are, and to share their happiness and sorrows. It also symbolizes the community where you grow up as a kid taking the bus to school and eventually to the outside world. Nevertheless, there is always that sense of belonging when you come back, the community where you grew up in, where you met new friends and said goodbye.
Bio:Jackson Hung is a freelance photographer based in Hong Kong. His work has been featured in the Toronto Urban Photography Festival, Seoul Photo & Imaging, PIK – Photographers in Korea magazine as well as an honorable mention in National Geographic Photo Contest 2015. He was also part of the jury for the Toronto Urban Photography Festival (TUPF) 2016.
Ordinarily a “black and white photographer”, Dotan took these color photographs during a short 3-day assignment for National Geographic and the City of Seoul in early September 2016. It was Dotan’s very first trip to Asia and as such reflect fresh eye of a complete outsider marveling at colorful street scenes that Korean natives might take for granted.
Bio: Dotan Saguy was born in a small kibbutz five miles south of Israel’s Lebanese border. He grew-up in a diverse working class Parisian suburb, lived in Lower Manhattan during 9/11 and moved to Los Angeles in 2003.
In 2015 Dotan decided to focus on his lifelong passion for photography after a successful career as a high-tech entrepreneur. Since then Dotan attended the Eddie Adams Workshop, the Missouri Photo Workshop and studied photojournalism at Santa Monica College.
Dotan’s work has been published by National Geographic, PDN, Leica Fotografie International, ABC News, has been exhibited in several galleries across Los Angeles and has been awarded 1st place photo story from the nationwide Journalism Association of Community Colleges in 2016 and an honorable mention in the National Geographic Travel Photographer of the Year Award 2016.
Dotan is currently working on several ground-breaking long term projects including an in-depth photo essay about the culture of Venice Beach and a photo documentary about the journey of people coming out of homelessness. Dotan lives in West Los Angeles with his wife and two children.