Drawing Another Me — Etched in Paper and Clay

Drawing artist Han Chayeon * etches another version of herself into paper and clay — together with the wind and sunlight of that moment, the grains of sand, and the sound of waves.

Interviewer Parc Jinmyoung
Interviewee Han Chayeon
Photos Kim Yoonkyung
* After working as an illustrator, she began presenting ceramic and painting work starting in 2021. She has held solo exhibitions including ‘An Empty Life’ (Teong, 2022), ‘WAY HOME’ (Samseyeong Art Museum, 2022), and ‘The Moment That Became a Painting’ (M Collect Nineteen Gallery, 2023).

Your solo exhibition ‘The Moment That Became a Painting,’ featuring works drawn in Goseong, Gangwon-do, has just ended. How are you feeling?
I finally feel like my trip is over. Even after coming back from Goseong, it felt like part of me was still there. Now that I’ve taken everything out that was inside me, I think I can truly leave Goseong behind. I’m also starting to feel ready to begin new work.

Why did you decide to travel to Goseong last spring?
Maybe because I was born and raised in Seoul, I’ve always loved quiet places that still hold onto their past. I used to go to Goseong now and then for short sketching trips, but this time I ended up staying for two weeks.

It’s fascinating how a few brushstrokes can capture a scene that feels like something everyone has encountered at some point. I imagine drawing simply is actually harder.
It’s less that I try to draw simply, and more that the way I see things is simple to begin with. My paintings just reveal my gaze as it is.

Many of your works depict scenes at sunset. Is that your favorite time of day?
In Goseong especially, I think I painted a lot during that time. Throughout my trip there, I was drawn to a certain melancholy in the air. Maybe that was just how I was feeling the whole time. Honestly, I was quite lonely back then.

Does ‘Self-Portrait,’ one of the works in this exhibition, also express that sense of loneliness?
It shows me standing in front of an overcast beach. I zoomed in on just my face and painted it in shades of blue, like the sea. Since it was a face full of many thoughts, I used a variety of colors throughout.

What were you thinking about at the time?
‘I want to go home, I miss my cat’? (laughs) I think sketching from life is so compelling because it captures me best — right there, in that place, in that moment. Recording this exact moment is something only I, standing there, can do.

When did you start painting landscapes?
After working as an illustrator for a long time, there were moments when the work felt like nothing more than a means of making money. I burned out. Starting in 2017, I decided to live in Jeju for about a year and a half and focus solely on painting. That’s when I began to enjoy sketching from life. Sketching outdoors is actually quite difficult. I sometimes take fellow artists on sketching trips, and at first it feels unfamiliar and they can’t draw well. There are so many external factors that get in the way — the weather, the surroundings — and without a proper desk, the lines inevitably come out crooked. But after a day or two, as your hands slowly find their sense again, it starts to become enjoyable. It’s a kind of drawing you simply can’t do indoors.

I’m curious about your process from start to finish. Do you sketch spontaneously in the moment and then add painting or other elements later?
When I go on sketching trips, I always carry a small drawing notebook and an oil-based pen in my bag. Whenever I see a scene I want to draw, I stop wherever I am. I usually bring just one or two colors of paint, but since I stayed in Goseong for a relatively long time, I brought a wide range of materials. I’d lay out a mat on the beach and paint on paper with oil paints, or take drawings I made while walking during the day and color them in various ways back at my lodging. Most of the drawings were made in Goseong, while the oil paintings and ceramics in this exhibition were completed after I returned to Seoul.

When capturing a scene from your travels in a painting, what do you focus on?
Whenever I feel the urge to draw, I pick up my pen. I also make a deliberate effort to capture a variety of scenes. Later, when I go back and flip through my sketchbook, I often realize — through the drawings themselves — what really moved me. I seem to gravitate toward sunset, someone absorbed in what they’re doing, the back of someone’s figure, houses and alleyways, and melancholic scenery.

How long does it usually take to complete a simple sketch?
I tend to work fast. Drawing itself doesn’t take that long, and since my style is simple, that probably speeds things up even more. Even though the actual working time is short, it often takes a long time to warm up my hands and mind enough to actually start painting.

Do you have a routine for warming up?
Honestly, drawing alone helps loosen up stiff hands and a stiff mind. My painting and ceramic work are both grounded in drawing, and I think it’s through drawing that I learned how to work without forcing things. I believe that a painting stripped down to its essentials — pared away again and again until only the core remains — carries real sincerity within it.

What led you to work in both ceramics and painting?
I entered university as a sculpture major. It wasn’t that I wanted to become a sculptor — I just loved the feel of clay in my hands. I transferred to a design department, and even after graduating and working as an illustrator, I think I always missed the texture of clay. I deliberately avoided sculptural work because I wanted ceramics to remain just a hobby, but these days there are things I want to try, so I’ve been exploring it little by little.

What do the two mediums have in common?
I think of them both as acts, carried out through my hands — a part of my own body — that end up lingering in someone else’s heart. Speaking purely as the creator, both mediums sometimes take a different direction than originally planned, or produce unintended results. I think that’s part of the appeal too.

Figures holding a glass, dogs, and cats seem to appear often in your work.
I love alcohol, coffee, and animals. Lately I’ve been drawing a lot of cats, probably thanks to my cat, Wolyang. She was a cat I used to feed every day outside my house while I was living in Jeju. When it was time to leave, I couldn’t bear to part with her, so I ended up bringing her along. I made several pieces in Goseong that capture the feeling of missing Wolyang back at home. One of them, ‘Dreaming,’ was made while thinking of how she used to climb on top of me whenever I lay down.

Making whiskey glasses and bottles also seems like fun work.
I love whiskey. Honestly, I didn’t make them for an exhibition — I just made vases and drinking glasses in ceramic, using whiskey bottles as a motif, just for myself. I later gathered them into an exhibition called ‘Cheers’ (Boyeonjeong, 2022). You also paint a lot of self-portraits — what’s your favorite version of yourself? I love sleeping, and I love drawing myself asleep too. Even in that piece ‘Dreaming,’ I’m lying down (laughs). I’m also planning a sculptural exhibition called ‘The Dreamer,’ centered on the themes of sleeping, dreaming, and recovering.

Is there a person or place that has influenced your artistic world?
My mother passed away from illness two years ago. I cared for her for four years while she was bedridden, and there was a period when it was so hard that I couldn’t paint at all. It was during that difficult time that I began oil painting. I used to work with ink added to my drawings, but once I started filling in delicate emotions with color, I felt like the range of my work expanded as well.

Are there moments when your work just doesn’t flow, or you lose interest? How do you get through those times?
Of course there are. On those days, I’ll have a glass of whiskey I like, and once I’m relaxed, I pick up a pencil. If it’s really bad, I just don’t work at all. I used to feel anxious whenever I wasn’t working, but these days I think drawing isn’t everything. Stepping back and simply observing myself feels like part of the process too. And nothing lasts forever, right? The days when I don’t feel like working, the days when things don’t go well—they all pass. Then I come back around to a state where I can work again. I don’t think creators can ever fully escape that cycle. I just hope those moments don’t last too long (laughs).

Since you draw from everyday life, there must be times when you need fresh inspiration.
That’s when I travel. Actually, I’m not someone who enjoys unfamiliar environments. If anything, I get tense and talk less. Drawing helps me adjust to new places. If I gaze slowly at a landscape, I gradually immerse myself in the destination, the way paint spreads across paper. Things that were once familiar start to look new again.

Which destination has left the deepest impression on you?
Instead of holding a wedding ceremony, I went on a trip to Annapurna in Nepal. I trekked for seven days to Annapurna Base Camp (ABC), where the temperature swung between winter and summer several times a day, and it rained constantly. Between the altitude sickness and the poor lodge facilities, it was really tough. If someone asked me to go again… I’m not sure (laughs). But I still can’t forget the snowy scenery I saw there, both day and night. It was a view you could only see up in the Himalayas. What struck me most was the moon on a pitch-dark night with no lights around, illuminating the snow-covered mountains so brightly that everything nearby glowed. I later compiled the drawings I made there into my first self-published book.

You published a drawing notebook for this exhibition too. The short comments next to the drawings were striking—do you enjoy writing?
I love the physicality of books. After each solo exhibition ends, I often compile the exhibited drawings along with my brief reflections into a self-published book. Writing is a medium that can convey a story more clearly than drawing. So I’ve been practicing writing little by little. I mostly jot down fleeting emotions, so I’m not always sure where to start or stop, but I try to express things as plainly as possible—just like my drawings.

Where would you like to travel to next?
I’ll probably go to Mongolia next year. Nothing’s set in stone yet, but if I do go, I’m certain I’ll be drawing people living the old way against a backdrop of Mongolia’s quiet natural landscapes (laughs).

Do you have your own routine when traveling?
I enjoy taking morning walks. I like observing scenery that might be everyday life for someone else, the way you’d study an unfamiliar face. This time in Goseong, I woke up late every morning and ate makguksu (buckwheat noodles). I think I’ve been to just about every famous makguksu spot in Goseong-gun.

Is there something you really want to do before the year ends?
Earlier this year I went to a meditation center, but I got so busy that I forgot all about meditating. I’m not religious, but at the end of the year, I plan to do a temple stay, meditate, and spend some quiet time.

Will you be drawing there too?
No. I don’t want to do anything there (laughs).