Seyeon Jeong
Aug 13, 2025
Hi Seyeon! Can you tell us about your background and how you first became interested in visual art?
I started by drawing characters from animation I liked. Then I got into cosplay, which led me to photography. I studied film in Korea, then photography in the U.S., where I unexpectedly got into 3D through a required class. Looking back, I think part of what pushed me was a kind of insecurity. I kept seeing things that looked sharper or more expressive than anything I could make, and I wanted to get closer to that. I didn’t have a clear plan, I just kept looking for ways to express myself. Over time, different mediums became different ways to process what I was feeling or trying to understand.
What drew you to an interdisciplinary artistic practice in film, photography, VR, and 3D arts?
I came into each medium for pretty simple reasons. I started photography while doing cosplay, mostly because it was fun. I got interested in film because I wanted to use cool cameras and create scenes like the movies I loved. I learned 3D through a required class but ended up liking it. Over time, I started to see how each medium gives me a different kind of emotional distance. 3D lets me rebuild spaces or situations without the limits of reality, which I turn to when I need control or perspective. Photography feels closer and more personal, something I reach for when I want to freeze unresolved feelings. Film allows emotion to unfold with time. I never felt like I had to stick to one tool. The world is too accessible for that, and I just use whatever helps me hold or process what I am feeling.
I started by drawing characters from animation I liked. Then I got into cosplay, which led me to photography. I studied film in Korea, then photography in the U.S., where I unexpectedly got into 3D through a required class. Looking back, I think part of what pushed me was a kind of insecurity. I kept seeing things that looked sharper or more expressive than anything I could make, and I wanted to get closer to that. I didn’t have a clear plan, I just kept looking for ways to express myself. Over time, different mediums became different ways to process what I was feeling or trying to understand.
What drew you to an interdisciplinary artistic practice in film, photography, VR, and 3D arts?
I came into each medium for pretty simple reasons. I started photography while doing cosplay, mostly because it was fun. I got interested in film because I wanted to use cool cameras and create scenes like the movies I loved. I learned 3D through a required class but ended up liking it. Over time, I started to see how each medium gives me a different kind of emotional distance. 3D lets me rebuild spaces or situations without the limits of reality, which I turn to when I need control or perspective. Photography feels closer and more personal, something I reach for when I want to freeze unresolved feelings. Film allows emotion to unfold with time. I never felt like I had to stick to one tool. The world is too accessible for that, and I just use whatever helps me hold or process what I am feeling.
Sounds like you use different digital tools to create your work. What are some tips for using multidisciplinary tools?
I try not to get too precious about tools. If something doesn’t work the way I imagined, I either try another method or leave it as is. Sometimes the error becomes part of the work. Most tools look intimidating at first, but I think it's better to just jump in and break things. You learn faster that way, and if you're stuck, definitely ask someone around you … or just ask to ChatGPT.
What are some concepts that you keep exploring as an artist?
As an artist, I often explore themes like memory, duality, and transformation. These aren’t concepts I deliberately pursue, but questions that tend to surface when something feels unresolved. Looking back on the past helps me make sense of the present. It becomes a way to process lingering emotions, and that process often turns into something visual. For me, memory is narrative—not in a linear sense, but in how it helps work through what still echoes. Some projects end up feeling like self-therapy, turning confusion into something visible. Lately, my work keeps returning to identity, death, and cultural tradition because they remain the most unresolved in my life. That may change over time, but for now, that’s where my attention naturally goes.
You mentioned moving around cultures created "dissonance." What does this mean for you as an artist?
I grew up entirely in Busan and only stepped out of that world when I moved to the US. After I arrived, I started noticing a disconnect, not just with the culture around me but with myself. I didn’t fully relate to any communities, and returning to Korea felt like I had missed something. It wasn’t homesickness or diaspora, more like an internal compass had shifted and couldn’t be reset. That emotional dissonance gradually became visual. Many scenes in my work feel slightly misaligned, as if two different worlds had been stitched together. Some objects don’t belong, and the space doesn’t always follow logical rules. It’s a way of recreating the feeling of being somewhere without fully understanding how things are supposed to work, even if it once felt familiar.
Can you share a project that is meaningful to you?
One of the most meaningful projects I’ve worked on is Dear__, a letter to my late father. I usually avoid placing myself too directly in my work, but this time I recorded my own voice for the first time. It began with regret but became more reflective over time. My father and I disagreed about my decision to study art, and we never had the chance to talk about it before he passed. Dear__ became a way to hold that unfinished conversation in my own way. I also used photogrammetry for the first time, scanning a digital camera we had used on family trips. That process helped me understand that art can be a space for reflection, not just experimentation.
How do you define your visual vocabulary, and how does that influence your artistic storytelling?
My visual language is intuitive, but the storytelling is often abstract. That probably comes from cosplay. Wearing a character taught me that identity is something you perform through the body. It also made me pay attention to how color, fabric, and silhouette can suggest narrative without needing words. Korean tradition shaped me in a different way. Growing up around ancestral rites, ceremonial clothing, shamanic and Buddhist influences, and a rigid family structure, those elements once felt universal. Leaving home revealed their complexity, and that contrast led to a deeper appreciation for what they meant. Digital storytelling let me reassemble all of that. It gave me tools to build scenes that feel emotionally fragmented, like memory or myth. I like the space between clarity and ambiguity, where things feel personal but remain open.
Looking forward, are there new technologies or themes you're excited to explore in your next body of work?
After graduating this May, I’ve been figuring things out after being thrown into the world a bit. I’ve started testing tools I hadn’t touched before, like AI-generated video and interactive media. I’m trying to deepen and expand the themes I’ve been working with by looking more closely at what’s already around me, and thinking about how those ideas might interact more directly with viewers.