BEYOND THE SURFACE WITH JEEWI LEE

Ashes to Ashes (purifying), 2019-2021 (soap bars made from ashes and charcoal); the artist in her Berlin studio. Photo: Ecaterina Rusu.   

Material, time and trace are central to the work of Berlin-based multidisciplinary artist Jeewi Lee. Born in Seoul and working between Korea and Germany, Lee explores the quiet narratives embedded in matter itself – from grains of sand to soil, ash and sediment – revealing how materials carry memory, geography and the passage of time.
 
For this Earth Day edition of our Beyond The Surface series, Lee reflects on the origins of the materials she works with and the invisible histories they contain. Her practice transforms overlooked substances into contemplative forms, inviting viewers to slow down and reconsider the value of what is often taken for granted. Rather than delivering explicit ecological statements, her work creates space for reflection – attentive to cycles of transformation, erosion and renewal.
 
In the interview, Lee speaks about the significance of a single grain of sand, the poetry of reduction and stillness, and why working with materials that evolve over time continues to shape her artistic language. Her sensitivity to material, process and essential form reveals a natural affinity with disciplines such as design – where meaning often emerges through precision, restraint and a deep respect for the properties of matter. 

Fragments: Tidal Memories, 2025. (In collaboration with Phillip C. Reiner) Exhibition view, Undercurrents – Waves Walking on the Water, Sea Art Festival – Busan Biennale.
Photo: Yoon Changsu 

Your work often engages with site-specific materials – earth, sediment, traces of place. How does geography enter your practice today? Do materials carry a sense of origin for you?

 
Absolutely. For me, a material is never neutral – it always carries a story within it: a geological, a cultural, and a personal one. When I use sand from a Korean coastline or soil from Senegal, I’m not only bringing a substance into the space, but also a place, a time, and a movement. Geography is not a backdrop for me, but an active part of the work. The origin of a material is, in a way, its first language.
 
At the same time, materials carry the history of time and their surroundings. Nothing is static or fixed – everything is in constant transformation, and its meaning can shift depending on context. In that sense, my work often becomes a kind of time document, capturing and making visible a particular moment.
 
 
In works such as the Fragment series, surfaces appear broken, pressed, or reassembled – as if shaped by both natural forces and human intervention. Can you speak about the starting point for these pieces?
 
The starting point was actually one of the smallest yet most complex things – literally a single grain of sand. They were originally likely massive rocks that gradually became boulders, then stones, and eventually a single grain of sand, embodying a long journey of time, movement, and memory. Each grain is a fragment of a much longer story – pressed, broken, eroded, and reshaped over millions of years. I wanted to make these usually invisible processes tangible and visible. In collaboration with the geometry researcher Phillip C. Reiner, I worked with nano CT scans of sand grains from different parts of the world and translated them into enlarged sand sculptures.

Incision, 2018. Meok ink on Hanji paper, each 120 × 160 cm, and Fracture, 2018. Gravel installation, dimensions variable.
Exhibition view, Inzision, Sexauer Gallery, Berlin. Photo: Marcus Schneider

Each grain carries characteristics of its place of origin, yet they are all highly individual, with fascinating and unique forms.
 
Today, sand is after water one of the most important, most widely used, and increasingly scarce resources. It plays a crucial role as a raw material in our everyday life like glass, concrete, asphalt, but also in the production of microchips, jeans, cosmetics, and water filtration systems.
I want to give each tiny grain of sand the attention it deserves. Currently, Phillip C. Reiner and I are also working with the scan images to develop new silkscreen works and glass-based pieces.

 
You often work with soil and raw matter, using techniques of casting, pressing or imprinting. Are you thinking in terms of preservation, translation, or something else entirely?
 
Yes, for me it is often about translation and transformation – translating materials into other forms, but also about preserving traces, capturing moments, and making the seemingly invisible more visible. It is about giving attention to what is often overlooked and listening to the stories embedded in materials, observing their properties and phenomena.
 
In my work, the processes themselves are just as important as the final result.
 

Your work feels closely tied to the natural world yet avoids direct messaging about ecology and responsibility. Is this distance important to you?
 
Yes, very much so. I’m not interested in making art that instructs, moralizes, or points in a single direction. It’s not about judgment or critique, but about reflection and open questions.
For example, when I present 800 dark soap pieces made from ash and charcoal from a forest fire in a museum, the choice of materials, the aesthetics, and the installation invite reflection on increasing wildfires – but also on nature’s regenerative power. What appears as an end can already hold the potential for a new beginning. A circulation, a cycle.
 
Similarly, when a grain of sand is enlarged a thousand times and placed in space, viewers are invited to experience and reflect for themselves. I believe this kind of experience is much more powerful than any direct message.
 
For me, it is important that art creates openness – an invitation to feel, to think, and to engage in dialogue. A space where something can be experienced that cannot be fully put into words.

Jeewi Lee in her studio in Berlin-Kreuzberg. Photos: Ecaterina Rusu

There is a strong sense of stillness in your work, almost a resistance to speed and excess. Is this a conscious position within a faster, attention-driven culture?
 
It is both conscious and instinctive – a kind of consciously unconscious position. I find myself repeatedly returning to what is slow, to processes that take time and cannot be accelerated. Sand forms over millions of years – this temporality deeply interests me.
 
My visual language is deliberately minimal and reduced. Empty spaces, abstractions – these are essential elements for me. Reduction is not only a formal language but might be also an ethical stance. In a world of constant overstimulation, it becomes an act of resistance – creating space, both literally and metaphorically.
 
Stillness is not the absence of content, but an invitation to depth I think. I am interested in how much meaning can reside in a minimal gesture, how powerful a simple form can be when precisely placed. Repetition intensifies this – allowing the eye to slow down and observe more closely.
 
Conceptually, I aim for openness and invitation. I want to create works that do not prescribe a single interpretation, but instead leave space for the viewer’s experience – so that the work is completed through their thoughts and associations. Emptiness is not merely background; emptiness and fullness exist on equal terms.


Berlin is often described as a space for experimentation, but also one shaped by constant change. What does the city offer you materially and mentally?
 
For me, Berlin is a place of friction and I mean that in a positive way. The city holds so many layers, so many wounds and new beginnings. This density is both inspiring and driving.
 
I also grew up in Berlin, so the city feels like a second home to me. As a Korean, I still find it fascinating how the meeting of East and West Germany can be subtly felt throughout the city. This coexistence, along with Berlin’s historical tensions, continues to shape its atmosphere in a way that I find very compelling.
 
My work is often interdisciplinary, involving collaborations across different fields, and Berlin makes this kind of exchange both possible and natural. The cultural vibrancy, diversity, and constant transformation offer a great deal of inspiration.

At the same time, I value nature just as much as the city. I’ve realized how important it is for me to move between both. In the city, I absorb external impulses and exchange; in nature, I can turn inward and reconnect with my inner structure. Depending on where I am, different ideas, concepts, and works emerge. For me, both belong together.

 

 

Bathed in Saplight_01, 2025. Tree resin on Hanji paper and wood, 75 × 89 cm. Exhibition view, Echoes of Gaia, The Page Gallery, Seoul.
Photo: Yang Ian  

There is a strong sensitivity to material, structure and reduction in your work – qualities often associated with design. Do you feel an affinity with design disciplines, or does your approach differ fundamentally?
 
Yes, I do feel an affinity, particularly with what could be described as conceptual or material-oriented design. What fascinates me about design is its seriousness toward material, its consideration of function and form, and its reduction to the essential.
 
At the same time, my work operates in a different space – it does not need to fulfill a function. It can remain open, unresolved, and questioning. This freedom is what defines art for me.


In your daily life, what role do designed objects play – are there things you return to for their function, their material presence, or simply the way they age over time?
 
I’m very drawn to objects that become more beautiful over time – those that develop a patina and carry traces of use. In recent years, I’ve also been particularly attracted to elements found in nature, such as cuttlefish bones or sand. These objects carry stories of journey, time, and migration, which resonates deeply with both my work and my own biography.
 
At the same time, I appreciate well-designed everyday objects where aesthetics and function come together in a thoughtful way. I appreciate designs that are reduced in form and leave room to adapt to different contexts – or to be completed through use.

Thank you so much for sharing your time and thoughts.

This interview is part of Beyond the Surface, a series highlighting progressive thinkers and makers shaping more responsible futures for our community, society and planet. 

Jeewi Lee’s work will be presented in several upcoming exhibitions, including a solo presentation at Berlinische Galerie in Berlin, a solo exhibition at Galerie Meyer-Riegger in Karlsruhe, and Where Fragments Linger by the Sea at Kunsthalle Wilhelmshaven.