South Korea's leading online publication, LongBlack, shares their translated story exclusively for COOL HUNTING readers
Teo Yang Looks at Tradition to Design the Future
South Korea’s leading online publication, LongBlack, shares their translated story exclusively for COOL HUNTING readers
COOL HUNTING Editors’ note
We’ve been increasingly interested in everything that’s going on in South Korea—from hosting our most recent travel experience there to observing the myriad ways the country is innovating across the worlds of design, technology, art, fashion, food, spirits and more. We were fortunate to meet the team behind LongBlack, the country’s fastest growing online publication. It’s now a primary resource for entrepreneurs and creators, and it has a very unique business model. It publishes a single in-depth feature each day, and that feature is available for 24 hours. Subscribers pay a modest fee, and are able to share the story with friends and colleagues within that time period, which serves as a great funnel for new subscribers. Once a subscriber you have access to the archive from the day you joined; earlier stories can be accessed by a fee.
Because each of their features are so beautifully done and in depth, we thought it would be fun to share some of them with CH readers, and we’ve curated a few that we think are exciting to share with you. This is our first one. You’ll notice it’s longer than most CH features, and because it is written in LongBlack’s editorial voice it differs from ours. Instead of rewriting it we wanted to honor their style by translating it. Do let us know what you think in the comments.
This feature is about one of our favorite designers anywhere, Teo Yang. A friend of CH, Teo is a multidisciplinary designer, entrepreneur and creative force. In addition to his design studio he has a furniture company, a fragrance company, a skin care company, and he writes science fiction in his spare time. What ties all of his work together is knowledge, honor and respect for the past. His work is infused with this vocabulary, though he’s not nostalgic or period, but often in spirit and not in literal appropriation.
A Word from LongBlack
LongBlack explores leaders across vertical—we call our approach a singular taste. But how can one develop a singular taste? The word feels vague, and there’s no textbook to guide you. Perhaps we can learn if we meet with someone who’s spent a long time developing their own singularity.
Teo Yang is a designer. His Studio is highly recognized by numerous global media outlets, including Wallpaper, Monocle, and Design Anthology. In 2021, it was featured as one of the world’s top 100 interior design studios in By Design.* Recently, it made its name into AD100—a list of the top 100 studios as selected by Architectural Digest.**
LongBlack met with Sohyun Choi, Head of Design & Marketing of NAVER**, to walk up the hills of Bukchon, Seoul. We passed by an old-fashioned tea house, a modern café serving popular desserts, and traditional gift shops along the bending routes of old town, when we finally reached the hanok**** where Yang lives and has a studio.
You can view the article in Korean on LongBlack (access provided for CH readers for free)
*Published by Phaidon Press
**Naver: a Big tech company in South Korea, with a revenue of 6.8 trillion KRW (approx. $5.2B)
****hanok: a traditional Korean house, often featuring wooden structures with a courtyard in the center
Interviewer : Sohyun Choi, Head of Design and Marketing of NAVER [a Korean technology company]
Teo Yang—a “designer”? I hope these words do justice. He is a designer who changes the future through the legacy of the past.
Yang studied Interior Design at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago (SAIC) and Environmental Design at ArtCenter College of Design. He trained under Marcel Wanders, the renowned Dutch designer, and has been directing the Teo Yang Studio in Korea since 2010.
*Known for his experimental works that add modern elements to classical designs. He works with international brands such as Moooi, B&B Italia, Moroso, and Mondrian Hotels.
Yang designed several hanok spaces and renovated the Gyeongju National Museum. Then he launched his own cosmetics, furniture, and fragrance brands. Phaidon Press once wrote, “[Yang has] a flair for bringing the past into present.” Teo Yang is a designer who translates Korean tradition into modern spaces, brands, and lifestyle.
We entered the dining room of his hanok. Laid out on a small table were yellow-colored sweets paired with tea, and candied kumquats topped with plum blossom petals, freshly picked a couple days before.
Chapter 1
Alone in the Korean Gallery
As a child, Yang wanted to become an archeologist. His friends liked robots and cars, but he was fascinated by old artifacts like samurai swords and terracotta warriors.
Yang’s mother had a big influence on him. She was an art collector. It was the ’80’s in Korea and the term “design” was unfamiliar to many people. Still, Yang remembers how she made a day-long trip to the bank, exchanging dollars and making overseas arrangements, all to collect original copies of Architectural Digest.
On his way home from elementary school Yang would see his mother park among the school buses. She’d yell, “Yang, let’s go see the antique shops!” or “Let’s go explore the new gallery!” Yang sometimes felt shy, but he still followed along.
He grew to love antiques. It was one of those days that he begged his mother to buy japsang (decorative figurines placed on the roofs of palaces or pavilions, believed to protect the buildings from fire) which now stands on top of his roof.
“The japsang are now sitting on the eaves of this hanok. My mother told me, ‘Teo, I see your future in these japsang.’ From then on, it seemed like the entire universe spoke to me. Everything I’ve done in life seemed to link back to traditional Korean elements.”
At college, he set his aim high. SAIC held tough standards, firmly believing that “art changes the world.” Professors often told the students that they’re “the bricks that support humanity.” Yang came to the U.S. with growing hopes, and aspired to make a mark in history.
There was the loneliness. He was an international student, alone in the states. It was none other than the Korean gallery, a small corner space at the Art Institute of Chicago, that provided comfort for Yang. While other students chose to see Andy Warhol and Monet, Yang paid daily visits to the gallery of his home. He would sit there, make sketches and do assignments, alongside a moon jar (a traditional Korean white porcelain shape made during the Joseon dynasty) and a single portrait. He reflected on the solitude of these artifacts while away from home, alone in this foreign land for many years.
After graduation Yang interned at Marcel Wanders Studio. His job was to scan catalogs from museums and antique shops across the Netherlands and present them to Wanders. Yang naturally developed an eye for exquisite arts, while Wanders taught him the theory of space.
“I learned a lot from Wanders. He would say things like ‘Do you know what baseboards are for? They are to prevent repeated wall damage from mop sweeps.’ They were the Western design principles. And I began to wonder, what about Korean design principles?”
Chapter 2
Tradition in the Vanishing Alleyways
Yang didn’t have his now-distinguishable design principles from the start. Though he returned to Korea in 2010 and founded the Teo Yang Studio, he still had an overseas influence for a long time.
There was a high demand for Western design, and Yang had advantages. His first project, an experimental concept store called KWIN, an experimental retail space where clothes and accessories were displayed like gallery pieces, and more than ten mirrors were hung on one wall to create a unique aesthetic; it was featured in Vogue. He published Moving Day, an essay on interior design, and wrote columns for a popular lifestyle magazine called Lemon Tree. He slowly began to make a name for himself.
Yang gained recognition when he introduced the idea of concept stores at the 2013 Daelim Bath showroom. He designed the entire showroom as an archival space, naming it a “Modern Bath Library.” Once a mere layout of products now transformed into a study room, showcasing the 50 year history of Daelim Bath. Corners were reserved for small plants, nourished by water saved from toilets, to reflect the company’s philosophy.
This was very unconventional, but Yang went further. He even turned his showroom into a lifestyle shop. Curated by himself, bathroom supplies such as sponges, light fixtures, and toothbrush holders were put on display, with price tags for sale. You can find many such shops in Seoul now, but the term “lifestyle shop” was so unfamiliar back then, that the show was called “a bathroom accessory business.”
“Many people found it shocking. We had fundamentally changed the definition of a ‘showroom.’ Rather than displaying products, we chose to showcase our concepts and artistic directions of the brand. Many called me arrogant, asking why an interior designer meddles with the showroom, typically a domain of operations or sales.
But a designer must never forget the final result, the whole. Interior design is one part of the story. If a client wants to realize a concept of lifestyle, the designer must create a shop for them.”
Yang’s early projects were successful, but differ significantly from his current work. He explains that he didn’t have his design manifesto back then, and that the presence or absence of a manifesto highly changes the quality of the work.
“I think I was caught up in a xenocentric mindset. I wanted to imitate Western styles. But the more I worked, the more I realized I couldn’t continue like this. My work lacked justification. There is a vast difference between simply becoming a designer and being a designer with a manifesto. It took me four years to find mine.”
The Mission of his Hanok: Survival, rather than Preservation
Yang’s manifesto is ‘to bring tradition closer to the present day.’ It came to him naturally when he visited a hanok. It was 2012, Yang and his mother were visiting Gye-Dong in search of a new home. As soon as he stepped into a hanok, his mother said, “This is exactly like the hanok I saw in a dream.”
Living in a hanok transformed his work completely. Before, Yang was primarily focused on Western-style spaces. Now he began to think how the legacy of hanok, and the Korean traditional lifestyle that comes with it, could be continued in the generations to come.
Yang transformed his hanok, originally built in 1917. First, he installed air conditioners, outlets, and chargers in out-of-sight spots behind the doors of wooden cabinets. Then came the home appliances that could be operated with just a cell phone. It became a smart home, with the latest technology camouflaged by traditional elements.
Yang also tailored each space to fit contemporary needs. What used to be the reception room now housed ancient earthenware alongside a wine refrigerator. This was once a conservative space where women were not allowed in ancient times. Now anyone was invited into this dining room, to enjoy a glass of wine.
“When I first unveiled this hanok, people said, ‘this young designer has ruined a good hanok.’ But you need to see beyond preservation. This hanok was designed specifically for an urban lifestyle, created with the keyword ‘modern’ in mind.
‘How should hanok be presented in the age of modern technology?’ If people don’t consider the technological aspect, this hanok is done for. Its lifespan is over. While it is important for old houses in rural areas to be preserved as a form of heritage and academic data, the hanok villages in Gahoe-dong and Bukchon need to prove that they can survive into the next generation.”
Yang’s hanok renovation received global attention. Wallpaper featured his hanok in a four-page story, called the “Seoul revival.” Revival? Was Seoul dying? When Yang moved to Bukchon, he witnessed the vanishing alleyways firsthand.
“When I first moved here, it was what you call an old-town alleyway. You could see businesses necessary for daily life, like repair shops, barbers, and delivery carts. You could easily peek into a neighbor’s hanok. Families would keep the doors open while sitting on floor tables to eat. That was something truly Korean.
But since then, those hanok have all turned into cafés. They started disappearing one after another each week, and one day, I found that they had all been torn down.”
Witnessing the changes in Bukchon, Yang realized what he had to do: to preserve Korean sentiments. He needed to bring tradition closer to the present day.
Chapter 3
Past: Manghyang Rest Stop, Recreating Nostalgia from Joseon
For tradition to survive, it must be relevant in the present day. After encountering hanok, Yang devoted himself to revive tradition. Projects that followed—the 2015 Taegeukdang bakery remodeling, the 2016 Manghyang Rest Stop restroom renovation (of which he is particularly proud), and the 2017 design of the Korean Cultural Center in Beijing—show his efforts to amend aging traditions to meet modern needs.
“I’m particularly fond of doing public projects. They may be the type of project that designers avoid the most. Budgets are limited, time is short, a lot of paperwork, and you get attacked in various committee meetings… Nevertheless, I love public projects because we get a chance to set the future guidelines on how to treat these spaces.”
The Manghyang Rest Stop restroom attempted to solve a problem typically associated with rest stop restrooms: it proved that when spaces change, people also change.
“Design is about solving life’s problems in the most beautiful way. The problem with rest stop restrooms was that they all looked the same. No matter where you went, there’d be random paintings of the alps or The Little Prince on the walls without any context. Instead, I wanted to showcase the nobility of the nearby town, Cheonan.”
Cheonan is a region where a hyanggyo (a state-run secondary educational institution from the ancient Goryeo and Joseon periods, established by the government to educate local talents), a gathering place for scholars and intellectuals from all over the country, was located during the Joseon dynasty. Outside the restroom entrance, Yang installed chairs, bar tables, and desk lamps, all facing a large window with a full view of Cheonan’s natural scenery. The spot brings back the ancient academic halls of hyanggyo to modern visitors, the same experience of scholars who studied in halls with open views.
He also photographed local relics from Cheonan and framed them inside the bathroom stalls. In the central area with washbasins, he added a mini-sized garden to mimic the inner courtyards of hanok. The restroom’s ceiling, with a narrow gap allowing for a peek of the sky, was inspired by hanok doors. In 2019, the Manghyang Rest Stop restroom was voted the top “Customer Recommended Rest Stop Bathroom” by the Korea Expressway Corporation.
“The janitors told us on many occasions, ‘People have changed. They don’t spit or throw trash on the floor anymore.’ That’s the problem-solving power of a well-designed space.”
Chapter 4
Present: EATH Library, Easing Tradition into the Present
Yang didn’t want to limit his work to interiors; hHe wanted to introduce tradition to a broader audience. The problem was that traditions were perceived as boring and difficult, but Yang believed he could introduce tradition in a more relatable manner for contemporary audiences. So, he launched a brand.
In 2019, Yang introduced EATH Library (short for Evolutionary Achievement from Traditional Heritage) an herbal skincare brand. This puzzled many—why would an interior designer venture into cosmetics?
“Cosmetics were a means to an end — to reach people. I want to explore a wide variety of traditional categories. As long as I can lower tradtion’s barrier to entry tradition, it doesn’t matter how I do it.”
Yang was dissatisfied with how herbal medicine had been previously represented. Advertisements often featured models wearing hanbok (traditional Korean clothes) and lots of the symbolic red, which felt outdated and stereotypical. He pondered on the essence of herbal medicine.
“I asked a traditional herbal medicine doctor. ‘What is herbal medicine?’ He said, ‘Herbal medicine is simply 2000 years of our accumulated desire to care for others.’ As he said this, I noticed the antique books stacked up behind him. The paper in an antique book is too thin for the book to be placed vertically. I thought to myself, ‘That’s it. The way those old books are stacked on top of each other is the essence of herbal medicine.’”
He designed containers of EATH Library products using the antique books as a motif. The container itself is shaped like three antique books stacked on top of each other, while the spherical cap symbolizes the essence of contemporary art. This packaging received a design award from Wallpaper in 2019. The products are also being offered as amenities in hotels such as Four Seasons China and Signiel Vietnam.
“Sales of EATH Library products weren’t so great, but I think I achieved my goal. My goal was to inform people that there is such a thing as ‘Korean medicine,’ especially for the audience who regard herbal medicine as a uniquely Chinese phenomenon.”
Following EATH Library, Yang launched the furniture brand Eastern Edition in 2020 and the home aromatics and perfume brand Sinang in 2022. Eastern Edition reimagines Joseon-era lifestyles for urban living, adding legs to floor mats and wheels to traditional display cases. Sinang’s showroom is located in an old shopping center, soon to be demolished, witnessing the fading history.
“There’s a passage in Lao Tzu’s Tao Te Ching that I really love: ‘The importance of a wheel is not in the wheel itself but in the empty space it surrounds, and the importance of a vessel is not in its beauty but in the emptiness it contains.’ Why do we, the people of this era, focus only on appearance? I didn’t want that. I wanted to show the essence.”
Chapter 5
Future: Gyeongju National Museum – Taking Artifacts out of Glass Windows.
Yang didn’t stop at introducing tradition into the present. He wants to ensure its survival into the future, creating guidelines for spaces and lifestyle so that future and past can coexist.
In 2020, Yang redesigned the lobby of the Gyeongju National Museum. He changed how the visitors experience the museum completely. Instead of viewing artifacts passively, they would encounter them. What he did was quite radical. He took artifacts out of their dedicated galleries and put them in the lobby, without any glass windows to enclose them. His peers found this “changed the future of museums.”
“I start planning by writing out a script. How visitors would find this place, what path they take, what conversations they have in the elevator, which lobbies they walk through, and so on. But there is an unspoken truth about museums. Most people come to take pictures of the artifacts.”
To take a good photograph, you need a closer distance to the artifacts. Of course, Yang faced huge opposition when he suggested removing the protective glass. What about any potential damage from visitors? He implemented carbon reduction devices, marble pedestals, and bamboo fences to ensure a safe distance and good preservation capacity. To this day, none of the artifacts have been damaged. Rather, the artifacts are protected by the visitors themselves.
Staff from Yang’s studio spent multiple days analyzing patterns of visitors. They noticed that visitors were constantly asking for directions. Yang installed windows in the museum, aiding visitors in orientation and creating a more refreshing atmosphere. More visitors now made their way to the final area of the exhibition.
The renovation was finished in just two months by a team of six staff members. Time magazine selected Gyeongju as one of “The World’s 100 Greatest Places of 2021” and specifically recommended visiting the Gyeongju National Museum.
“The former director of the Seoul Museum of Craft Art told me, ‘Teo, beyond its beautiful design, the Gyeongju Museum had a huge impact on the way I see things. It made me realize that we need to change our museum as well.’”
After the Gyeongju National Museum was reworked many other museums began their renovations. In 2021, the National Museum of Korea unveiled “A Room of Quiet Contemplation,” attracting over a million visitors in the past two years. The same year, the Seoul Museum of Craft Art opened, praised for “turning tradition into a trendy spot.”
Craft Art, Lifestyle of the Future
Yang is deeply involved in the craft scene. He directed the 20th-anniversary exhibition for the craft foundation YÉOL and the 2022 Craft Trend Fair. Yang says craft art is not a mere matter of handiwork, but is a lifestyle.
“History is all about balance. In a digital era where the ignorance of the metaverse or NFTs means falling behind, craft is a means of restoring balance. There is a clear, growing desire for handmade items.”
However, as the interest in craft grows, they are often treated as ‘artworks.’ Yang warns against this perspective, emphasizing that crafts should first and foremost be practical items.
“I use crafts like dishes and ceramics extensively in my home. Craft should exist for reality, not the other way around. Craft should not demand attention or purchases; they must first serve as essential goods for modern people. Craftspersons should aim for this goal and raise awareness of the relevance of craft art in daily life.”
Chapter 6
Coda: There isn’t much time
Interior design, recreating public spaces, and launching his own brands, Yang’s work transcends the boundaries of traditional design. But is his approach really unique? He says there is a misunderstanding of design.
“Don’t stay limited to one domain. Design is planning for the whole. Design is the process of curation of all things—curation of people’s spaces, lifestyles, and values.”
Being a designer seems to be increasingly challenging. He confesses he no longer knows how to feel satisfied with his work. The pressure to achieve more weighs heavy on his shoulders.
“As a designer, you need to create a driving force that helps people move forward. I’m not going to save everyone on earth, but at least I want to have a positive impact on Bukchon and Seoul in the 21st century. That’s why I feel there isn’t much time. I need to move fast. A decade passes too quickly, and I wonder how long I can keep working at this pace.”
A Word from LongBlack’s Editor
Maybe I had misconceptions about Teo Yang. To the Korean public, he is well-known for his media presence and designing celebrities’ homes. These can sometimes overshadow his philosophy as a designer.
“Many people ask me, ‘what can I do to become famous?’ That question is very strange to me. I’ve never thought that ‘I want to be an influencer.’ I simply write, create meanings, and share my thoughts. Recognition came later.”
Yang will continue on his mission – to bring tradition closer to the present day. Before we end our short journey with Yang, I’ll share one last secret from him.
“I can’t work without books. I get scared when a big project deadline approaches, but I reassure myself, ‘It’s okay, I will find answers, again, in my books.’ Books are infused with someone’s soul. All we need to do is read, and absorb decades’ worth of philosophy and knowledge.”
I am also grateful for the philosophy Yang shared with us today.
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