Reclaiming Perceptions, Welcome to Sang Woo Kim's ‘The Seer, The Seen’

Even if it is difficult to acknowledge, our individual experiences exist within a larger political context. Model and artist Sang Woo Kim’s awareness of this intrinsic fact is the focal point of his new exhibition, The Seer, The Seen at Herald St gallery, which opened on 14 November. Kim poignantly positions himself as the subject of his portraits, fragmenting his own image to communicate how any images of Kim—who has been photographed by some of the world's top image-makers—are not wholly representative of his personhood. Alongside his portraits, he seamlessly distorts found imagery, altered through various methods. The Seer, The Seen, Kim’s debut solo exhibition addresses his own racialised and editorialised image with an unrelenting, but quiet strength.

We spoke with Kim about how his experiences as a Korean man in Britain and a model has shaped his work, how our visual culture distorts our perceptions, and why the eye is central to his artistic output.

Lara Sherris: This exhibition touches on reclaiming the loss of agency over your racialisation as a Korean in Britain. Being that you’re a model as well, how did you find that your experiences in that industry, where you have no control over your own image and have to appeal to certain markets, inform your work? 

Sang Woo Kim: I’ve had experiences where my image was fetishised and commodified as a model, which took away my sense of agency and only deepened the identity struggles I already felt growing up under the Western gaze. Painting self-portraits has become a way for me to take control back over how I’m seen, turning the act of looking at myself back onto itself. It’s about creating a space where I can assert my own autonomy and push against the mould that’s been imposed on me. There’s this irony, though—while my work resists being defined by outside expectations, it’s still recognised by one constant—the subject. The tension between how I choose to represent myself and how my work is identified is a key concept of this self-portraiture series.

LS: This exhibition moves between an absurdist and more realistic style. What informs your decision to move in between the two styles? Do you find each sends the viewer a different message?

SWK: Through the act of painting with my own hands, I represent myself the way I want to be seen—not glorified or editorialised like so many images of me that have been shaped by others. Confronting myself in an honest way is immensely liberating. I believe my work is constantly evolving—from how I begin a painting, to how I prepare the canvas, to the medium and style I choose. Although the paintings may appear planned, the process is actually quite intuitive. We are never the same person every day, always shifting and adapting. This continual change is reflected in my work and in how I view it...They each capture a different facet of my ever-evolving self.

LS: You are your own subject for some of the pieces in this exhibition. Do you feel that by centring yourself, you are still relinquishing a certain agency to the viewer?

SWK: It’s about choosing how I present myself, what aspects of my identity I emphasise, and the context I place them in. By confronting the viewer so directly, I’m deliberately challenging the historical narratives and stereotypes that have shaped the way I’ve been perceived... I paint self-portraits to resolve this dissonance, where my work serves as both a mirror and a declaration of my identity—a journey to reclaim my sense of self, to assert who I am—But once the work is displayed on the gallery walls, it becomes a dialogue—the seer, the seen—a conversation between the personal and the collective gaze but the question is: Who is looking, and who is being looked at?

LS: The photography section of this exhibition talks about the overstimulating visual landscape. In the social media age, do you feel it is at all possible to have full ownership over your likeness, especially in terms of being a practicing creative? 

SWK: In the social media age, having full ownership over your likeness as a practicing creative feels nearly impossible... By appropriating and reframing found images, I’m highlighting the fragility of sight and perception. These transfers disrupt the immediacy of the original images, creating a distance that mirrors the way the overwhelming visual bombardment of today alters and mediates our sense of reality.

LS: What is about the eye that intrigues you as an artist? Do you see this choice evolving over time as you develop or is it something intrinsic to your practice?

SWK: I grew up being discriminated against for having epicanthic folds. The eyes have been a focus of my being and autonomy for as long as I can remember...The juxtaposition and the tension between these features being viewed as derogatory during my youth and later as something aspirational is a shift that still feels unsettling. By emphasising the eye, I play with concealment and fragmentation with composition, offering parts of myself but never the whole. This mirrors the tension I feel and allows me to control how much of myself I reveal over time. Whether this focus will evolve as I “zoom out” to reveal more of my face and self, I can’t say for certain—but for now, the eye remains a central, intrinsic element in my practice.

Through the pigment dye transfer works, the eye takes on a broader significance... These works invite viewers to reflect on their own relationship with observation, asking them to consider how we perceive others and how we are perceived, especially in this increasingly visual culture.

The Seer, The Seen is open across both Herald St locations until 1 February.