Seunggu Kim X Stir Magazine
Over the past 40 years, South Korea’s economy has transformed at a rapid pace, bringing with it a complex web of social and cultural changes. Alongside its meteoric rise, the nation faces a paradox: long working hours, limited vacations and an ageing population. Despite these challenges, South Koreans have carved out unique ways to find joy and connection, particularly by opting for vacations in nearby suburbs or local sites for leisure. By taking advantage of city festivals or exploring nearby attractions, they find ways to spend quality time with family and friends. Photographer Seunggu Kim captures this balance in his book Better Days, published by Kehrer Verlag, which earned him the Ilwoo Photography Award in 2023.
Kim’s images take us to urban developments, festivals and seasonal activities like water sports and snow sledging. His work shines a light on the intricate dynamics of Korean society, reflecting a juxtaposition of fast-paced lifestyles with a profound sense of community. One standout scene features a cherry blossom festival in Gwangmyeong, where crowds converge at an amphitheatre. Yet the photographer’s lens focuses not on the spectacle but on the periphery: the backstage view of service tents, where a bored security staff sits, detached from the vibrant energy of the crowd. This deliberate framing invites viewers to reflect on the layers of human experience that often go unnoticed.
Central to Kim’s work is the exploration of ‘pragmatism’ and ‘community-oriented individualism'. These values underpin much of modern culture. Pragmatism, deeply rooted in Confucian and Buddhist philosophies, emphasises realism, adaptability and balance. A Confucian proverb, “A living dog is better than a dead minister,” underscores the focus on real-world practicality, while Buddhist nihilism, encapsulated by the notion that ‘one comes empty-handed and goes empty-handed’, reminds Koreans of life’s impermanence. This fusion of philosophies shapes an ethos Kim refers to as ‘optimistic nihilism', driving a culture that thrives on resilience and resourcefulness.
The photographs reflect how these values manifest in the architecture of leisure activities. Individuals engage in pursuits like fishing or enjoying picnics against a backdrop of vibrant, changing landscapes, spanning waterfront promenades, multi-use cultural centres and neighbourhood plazas. These moments are not just personal escapes but expressions of a broader cultural phenomenon: the coexistence of individuality and community. This ‘order of coexistence’, as he describes it, has deep roots from prehistoric times to the present day.
“I want to capture the ‘harmony in contradiction’ that appears throughout Korean society,” the visual artist explains to STIR. This harmony is evident in scenes where hundreds of people gather to partake in individual activities, creating a mosaic of collective enjoyment. His images also examine how the locals adapt to contradictions in their society. Economic disparities, urban-rural divides and cultural intersections all come into focus. Yet, his lens captures not discord but harmony, an optimistic resilience that defines the Korean spirit.
The concept of ‘jeong’ is central to understanding this balance. It embodies emotional attachment and human connection, transcending distinctions between self and others. It’s a subtle force that binds communities, creating a sense of belonging. Even as the country embraces modernity and individuality, ‘jeong’ persists as a unifying thread. During the pandemic, for example, this collective orientation enabled Korea’s swift and effective response, highlighting a unique blend of ‘horizontal individualism’ and ‘democratic citizenship’. “In urgent situations like the COVID-19 period or ongoing political issues, this tendency often leads to reform through citizen participation,” Kim tells STIR. His observations point to a society capable of balancing individual freedoms with collective responsibility, an approach rooted in both cultural and civic values.
From an artistic perspective, Kim’s methodology is as deliberate as his subject matter. Using a large-format film camera, he carefully composes each shot, often under cloudy skies or soft light, to evoke depth and texture. This meticulous approach mirrors his intent to document without oversimplifying or romanticising. His elevated vantage points render people and places as architectural models, emphasising the intricate networks that shape human interactions. Simon Bainbridge, former editorial director of the British Journal of Photography and the author of the text in Better Days, notes how Kim’s work reveals “the workings of things” by drawing attention to the periphery rather than the spectacle. “In the complex networks of pathways and boundaries, we see how we are shaped by our environment,” he reflects.
Kim’s decade-long project was unexpectedly disrupted by the pandemic. Sites once filled with joy became shadows of their former selves, marked by isolation and loss. The era of ‘Corona Blue’ brought into sharp focus the fragility of human connection. Yet, even in this sombre period, Kim found new perspectives. Reflecting on the transient nature of existence, he questioned his pursuit of certainty in a rapidly changing world. Digital technologies, the rise of AI and shifting societal norms all point to an uncertain future. For Kim, photography became a means of grounding himself—a labour of love that bridges past and present, capturing moments of togetherness amidst the flux.
At this moment, he found himself returning to a deeper question: “Is there a value higher and more important than collective happiness?” For him, nothing surpassed the value of togetherness. As he contemplated the evolving nature of photography in the digital age, he acknowledged how smartphones have democratised the medium, enabling anyone to document their lives at ease. Yet, for him, a photograph was never just an image; it was a culmination of thought, effort and emotion. “A photograph represents more than just a scene; it embodies an entire timeline of processes,” he shares. From the spark of an idea to the careful development of the film, every step is infused with love and intention. This deep engagement with his craft enables the Korean artist to create images that resonate visually and emotionally, drawing viewers into a shared moment of reflection and connection.
“The meaning of a photo changes depending on choices like weather, framing, angle or location,” Kim explains to STIR. “I try to describe scenes objectively from a position where I can see the entire picture.” This perspective allows him to craft images that are dense with detail yet alive with the spontaneous beauty of everyday life. “I chose cloudy days or weak sunlight to express the density and colour of shadows, creating a lively photo.”
Ultimately, Better Days is more than a documentation of leisure; it’s a meditation on coexistence. In capturing the interplay between individuality and community, tradition and modernity, Kim reveals the rich tapestry of Korean life. His works showcase the human capacity for joy and adaptation, urging us to embrace the complexities of our shared existence with optimism and empathy. When asked what he hopes readers take away from this book, Kim reflects to STIR, “What my photos show is that Koreans have free, safe and enjoyable leisure time almost anywhere, anytime. I respect the many interpretations of my work, whether positive or negative, light or heavy.”