Feeling like Kwangho

Designing a natural connection with Kwangho Lee

Kwangho Lee is one of the most distinctive voices in contemporary design. Based in Seoul, Lee rose to fame for work that moves fluidly between an expressive, artistic, fun sense of freedom and the practical considerations of industry. Whether experimenting with rope, metal, foam, or unexpected everyday materials, Lee approaches design as a process of discovery, allowing the final form to emerge through play, experimentation, and a willingness to embrace the unexpected which would be traditionally more suited to a sculptor than a product designer.

Article and interview by Timothy Small Images by Jihoon Kang

Rather than pursuing a rigid stylistic signature, Lee’s work reflects an ongoing dialogue between intuition and constraint, spontaneity and refinement. The result is a body of work that feels at once experimental and approachable, pieces that invite interaction, curiosity, and sometimes even a smile. Lee’s collaboration with Hem reflects a natural alignment between an explorative designer and a brand based on freedom of ideas. Since their first project together, the Hunk series, the partnership has been shaped by a shared commitment to originality. What follows is a conversation we had with Kwangho about his process, his identity, and his imagination.

Timothy: How much of your Korean background and Korean culture do you feel consciously enters your work today? Is it something you actively draw upon, or does it emerge naturally? Or is it something that you don’t think happens at all?

Kwangho: Basically, I don’t consciously think about it. The environment I grew up in wasn’t a traditional Korean setting; rather, it was a rapidly developing area on the border between the countryside and the city. Everything was mixed together, and new, and driven by the era of rapid national development. Growing up in that specific time and background naturally shaped who I am. It was an era filled with longing for Western and Japanese cultures, and there was a widespread sentiment that following those foreign cultures was what made you “cool.” Living through that, I learned to quickly absorb new things, try them out, and make them my own. While there was a pressure to conform and do what everyone else was doing, there was also a strong desire to prove that I was different.

Timothy: Maybe that’s the creative tension in you.

Kwangho: Yes. These conflicting drives grew within me. So, as I mentioned earlier, I don’t consciously try to be Korean, but it inevitably surfaces. Born and raised in Korea, with my education, work, and life all rooted here, Korea is simply something that cannot be separated from who I am.

Timothy: Looking back at your early work and comparing it to what you’re making today, what do you think has changed the most in your approach?

Kwangho: It is definitely flexibility. In my early years, I simply wanted to make things exceptionally well. I wanted to use my craftsmanship to create something no one else could, driven by an obsession that my existence was defined by that perfectly crafted object. However, after working for about twenty years, I have naturally become more flexible as a person. I have realized that approaching my work and collaborations with this flexibility ultimately leads to better results. I suppose you could say I am learning that I am not an isolated entity, but rather a being shaped and created by everything around me.

Timothy: Tell me about your favorite collaboration with Hem. How did it begin, what do you remember most fondly?

Kwangho: Of course, I think it was the Hunk series! It’s the result of my first collaboration with Hem, and the Hunk form itself feels very much like me. Since it was done during the pandemic, everything had to be done remotely. At the time, it was a situation where it was completely unpredictable how the pandemic would pass, so I remember this collaboration as we were looking forward to an unpredictable future. I’m even more grateful for that moment, in which we didn’t know what the world was going to look like.

Timothy: Nobody did! How much creative freedom did you have when designing, and how does that influence your output?

Kwangho: I think collaborating with Hem has been very special to me. They always want to see how much of my originality I can implement in the process, a lot of freedom. That’s why I have a lot of leeway in terms of my creativity and ideas. This freedom allows me to push ideas further than I might otherwise. At the same time, they invest serious effort in making those fun ideas real, and I appreciate that very much.

Timothy: Your work often feels rooted in experimentation with materials and processes. Is there a material or technique that continues to surprise you, even after all these years? 

Kwangho: I still find more possibilities in the exact same materials I have been using, discovering things I couldn’t see before. Because of this, I think I have actually become slower to look for brand new materials. Even when working with the same familiar material, the forms and scales I have yet to create still keep me inspired and newly motivated.

Timothy: Your work to me always makes me think of one word: fun. What does “fun” mean to you? How does that then meet the constraints of industrial production?

Kwangho: Honestly, it seems to be part of my attitude. It’s not simply accepting constraints as constraints, but rather trying to find flexibility within them. In other words, it’s not that constraints prevent me from expressing my creativity, but rather that constraints allow me to create. It’s an approach. That’s what I mean by fun, or playfulness. It’s an approach to problem-solving with curiosity rather than resistance.

Timothy: Many designers speak about creating something new, but your work often feels like it reveals new possibilities within familiar materials or processes. Do you see yourself more as an inventor or as a discoverer?

Kwangho: I am definitely closer to a discoverer, because what I do is not an invention. I work with materials everyone knows and utilize processes that everyone is familiar with. I wouldn’t even say I discovered something entirely brand new. I simply found a working methodology I enjoy and materials that suit me well, and the synergy between them happened to be effective enough to make my work known. As I mentioned earlier, I continue to make new discoveries and find new interests within those very same materials and processes.

Timothy: Do you think design can play a role in shaping broader cultural conversations?

Kwangho: I would say it plays various roles. It can draw out each other’s tastes. Sometimes, a specific object can play a more powerful role than any words in a specific space. It can heal each other’s emotions and hearts through objects. For example, the role of a comfortable sofa, or the role of lighting. In that sense, I always support Hem’s role as a cultural catalyst: sometimes as a collaborator, a colleague, a fan and a friend. I have no doubt that design will be a great force as a specific catalyst to discover each other’s culture and read someone’s tendencies and minds. I don’t know how the word “cultural” sounds, or what it really means, but I think the importance of culture is to understand and respect each other more delicately.

Timothy: In what ways does Hem’s conceptual positioning influence material choices, form, or function in your work?

Kwangho: For the tenth anniversary of the brand, Hem asked “What is this Hem?”. My reply was that “Hem is just Hem”, I think that the same way, I think that the idea that “Kwangho is just Kwangho” gives me more confidence when I choose materials or create a form. So I think that when we collaborate, we all remain ourselves, and we can create more interesting results. It’s about creating dialogue.

Timothy: Many of your pieces begin with a process or a gesture rather than a predetermined form. Do you ever feel that the object teaches you what it wants to become?

Kwangho: I absolutely believe that those moments are pure messages given to me by the material itself. Ultimately, I am working with the material, and I truly feel a sense of communion with it. This deep connection naturally guides me forward, freeing me from the obsession with a specific sketch or a predetermined final form. The process of seeing it with my eyes, touching it with my hands, remembering that sensation, and repeating it, this is why I feel like I am collaborating with the material at every single moment.

Timothy: Do you prefer a dialogue which is based on a constrained brief or do you prefer to work with a sort of carte blanche?

Kwangho: I like both. Either way, it is a challenge for me, a valuable experience, and I believe that I grow more through each moment of the process.

Timothy: What’s your favorite moment in the process of design?

Kwangho: If I had to say which moment I like the most, my favorite moment is the moment of decision, the moment of stopping. When you decide, “This is it.”

Timothy: How do your personal values approach the bridge between design and art?

Kwangho: I’m trying to use more inclusive words like inclusivity, flexibility, and relationships, rather than simply distinguishing between design and art. That’s why I am really enjoying the collaboration with Hem. We learn from each other, get to know each other, and sometimes even draw a better future together. That idea of a shared imagination is very meaningful.

Timothy: What do you hope people feel when they encounter one of your objects for the first time; not after they understand it, but in that very first moment? 

Kwangho: ”Oh? This feels like Kwangho.”

Timothy: If you could leave one idea or feeling behind in every object you design, what would you hope people carry with them? 

Kwangho: Rather than leaving something of myself behind in the object, I hope my work serves as a vessel that brings back people’s own memories and stories from the time they spent alongside it. I want it to be a piece that naturally triggers those small, precious moments of everyday life: “Ah, my family and I went through that together back then,” 'That was the day my daughter came home after losing her tennis match,' “My friends used to gather right here,” or “I remember sitting here listening to that incredibly beautiful piece of music.” I hope people carry with them these intimate, personal histories that my objects quietly witnessed.