Annotations cc: Greem Jeong

Greem Jeong is a designer and artist whose installations seem to defy gravity, inviting abstraction as cognitive play. Each installation, recognizable as undulating swirls, sculptural yet functional, conveys power, grace, and a dynamic presence throughout its surroundings. In this conversation, we follow her motivations for shaping forms as acts of exploration, revealing the lived sensibilities and insights that inform her practice.

Anoe: Perceived as spirals, scribbles or threads, your sculptures have a distinct visual and spatial language that can be translated at different scales and for different functions. What has sparked your fascination with those tubular forms and how would you describe them in your own words?

Greem: I vividly remember the moment when I accidentally discovered a 30-meter-long black rubber tube. I brought it home, unsure of how to use it, and casually laid it out in my living room. The scene that unfolded before me was visually striking. The bold lines of the tube stood out starkly against the background, while its organic, flowing shape resembled a natural form. It felt both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, with its scale and striking volume giving it an almost surreal presence. This contrast intrigued me, and became the starting point of my work. Based on that, I have created pieces that blur the boundaries between sculpture and design. While exploring form and material, I’m interested not only in functionality but also in how the work interacts with space as a sculptural element. This approach has naturally evolved into the way I create today.

A: Between the familiar and the strange there is potential for understanding. There's an excitement that emerges through this process, or simply through the questions that arise when we encounter something yet unknown: “What can it be?” In your process, forms that once startled you have gradually become intimate. Does this reflect something personal to you, a parallel to the ways you might observe and are open to integrate the unknown in your creative practice and life?

G: I believe that curiosity is a kind of starting point for affection. When a question arises, I naturally want to search for an answer, and I see that as a form of dialogue. Even if no words are exchanged. There are many ways in which we develop a tender memory or attachment to an object. Just as memories can spark affection, curiosity can open a dialogue between people and objects. In my practice, I try to discover something new within what feels familiar. I spend time observing the material closely, understanding its properties, and then finding new ways to unfold its qualities, beyond its conventional use.

A: We’ve talked about the motivation that comes from material, memory, and the chance encounters that stir affection. You’ve also mentioned the intention to move beyond conventional use through the act of design. The possibilities are endless. I wonder if you operate within a certain context, and if you carry, perhaps intuitively, a set of values or parameters that shift between the vague and the distinct, becoming the guidelines for this process of observing, understanding, and designing? And are there current issues, or past movements, that shape your methodology, whether in practical, technical, spiritual, or existential terms of meaning?

G: Depending on the project or exhibition, broader cultural currents, environmental issues, or even the wisdom found in traditional crafts naturally find their way into my practice. At different times, I simply explore subjects that spark my curiosity. But for the most part, my work is guided by instinct and intuition. Looking back, my approach to life is not so different. Rather than adhering to socially standardized notions or fixed criteria, I prefer to make choices based on my own sensibilities and values. I find that far more satisfying and enjoyable. This is why I love experiencing diverse cultures. I believe those experiences ultimately nourish my work and make new attempts possible.

A: To go your own way and not follow the standard always requires some courage. Did you ever feel challenged in pursuing that?

G: Of course, there are difficulties. I often push myself to achieve the quality I aim for, and that naturally brings a lot of stress. Also, by nature, I don’t enjoy repeating the same thing over and over again—I prefer to take on new challenges each time. That’s exciting, but it can also be exhausting. There are far more ideas and projects developing in my mind than are currently shown publicly. But for those to come to life, my own motivation alone isn’t always enough. Timing is important, and sometimes I need the right places or collaborators to make them possible. Still, I take it step by step. The moment when something I had only imagined finally becomes real before my eyes is when I feel a deep sense of certainty. I especially feel a thrill when working on large-scale projects. But of course, once that moment passes, the cycle of hardship begins again. One day, William Figliola, who has worked with the Memphis Group for many years, said something to me: “It’s easy to make something go from 1 to 100, but creating from 0 to 1 is truly difficult. And that’s exactly what you’re doing.” Those words gave me incredible strength and touched me deeply. It’s something I carry with me as a source of motivation.

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Text: Anoe Melliou
Image Credits: Courtesy of the artist; Photography by: Kwangseok Kim; Installation views at Gallery Nine, and Functional Art Gallery