Super yiayia is a new street food project within the yiayia and friends family, launching in Seoul with two stores. It shares the brand’s Greek roots and visual spirit, while adding new characters and fresh energy. Its hero is yiayia, reimagined as a magical granny-superheroine. Together with her loyal animal friends, she expresses tradition, care, flavor, nourishment and playfulness.

A poster for Yale Graphic Design MFA class of 2026 Oral Presentation. Taking place right after the summer break of the 1st year, the cohort presents the trajectory of their practice up to that point and a surfacing thesis interest. Considering the ‘under-progress’ nature of the event, the visual motif of construction scaffolding was adopted. Silkscreen printed on both sides of a sheet of transparent PVC, the posters were mounted on glass doors and windows to utilize the two-sidedness.

《Cheese Dictionary》 is a book that organizes various types of cheese by intensity, introducing their flavors, characteristics, and ways to enjoy them.
The book is designed in a triangular shape, inspired by cheese. It started from a simple question: “Why do books have to be rectangular?” and explores a different book format.

The main key visual and official poster focus on the intersection of tradition and experimentation. The work utilizes a contrasting palette of brown, green, and blue to symbolize the meeting of historical tradition and futuristic innovation.

Movement is expressed through wave-like patterns of dots that surround the images of the performers, creating a sense of dynamic motion. Through this composition, the design captures the encounter between emerging Korean artists and the city of New York.

It visually expresses a sense of vastness and lingering resonance surrounding stars and love.

With the theme Together We Grow, growth is visually expressed through a variable format, where the repetition of circular forms echoes like rhythmic chants. Bespoke Korean lettering and unique glyphs add depth to the display typography, creating a sense of harmony and contrast. This event identity design aligns with the vibrant, fast-evolving cultural energy of Seongsu.

March 1st Independence Movement Day marks Korea’s 1919 declaration of independence. This work reinterprets a paragraph from the Declaration read by 33 national representatives. A colorless Taegeuk and trigrams block the text, symbolizing loss, while the remaining legibility conveys enduring hope for independence and the spirit of the time.

“Bob” is a conceptual branding project for a space pairing rare caudex plants with art books. The work explores “individuality,” inspired by the bizarre and unpredictable forms of caudex plants. Instead of typical aesthetics, it focuses on their rugged silhouettes and unique environmental adaptations. By translating these expressive, raw textures into a specific graphic mood, the project highlights the value of being non-standardized.

Comet is a decorative Hangeul typeface inspired by the classical form and usage of English roundhand fonts. Also as an attempt at a revival of Hangeul ban-heulim (calligraphic) styles, the forms were arranged to present an overall modern and elegant look, adhering to the rules of consistent contrast in strokes and connections between them. As the characters of Hangeul calligraphy are naturally shown in vertical handwriting, the axis of the typeface was slanted to maintain the detailed characteri

The arrow motif at the core of the graphic symbolizes the dynamism of Suwon Nammun Market and its cycles of circulation and renewal. It frames the market not just as a site of transactions, but as a place of encounter and exchange. The arrows extend beyond physical direction into emotional movement, prompting imagination between connected signs and conveying a message about what we have lost and what we hope to find again.

“Bob” is a conceptual branding project for a space pairing rare caudex plants with art books. The work explores “individuality,” inspired by the bizarre and unpredictable forms of caudex plants. Instead of typical aesthetics, it focuses on their rugged silhouettes and unique environmental adaptations. By translating these expressive, raw textures into a specific graphic mood, the project highlights the value of being non-standardized.

This is an anthology behind the thinking and the story of Vertica, a typographic fiction. Vertica is Futura in the world of vertical roman typesetting—a place where the propagation of the writing system has been reversed from our world. The anthology has an intersecting structure where English reads from right to left vertically and Korean vice versa; a paradoxical object that is the coexistence of two contradictory ‘imported’ language infrastructures.

《Donghaeng (同行): Art Seen Together with a Child》, presented by the Ulsan Art Museum, explores family life and historical contexts through key paintings and sculptures of modern and contemporary Korean art. Adults and children experience the works together, with caregivers acting as interpreters who share the stories behind them. It visualizes a shared moment where curiosity and imagination coexist, and different perspectives meet before the artwork.

This project was started from “Noisy Spaghetti,” a compound phrase generated from two random words. This term brought back a fond memory of cooking pasta to thank the crew of my university graduation short film. Recalling those loud and joyous times we spent creating the film together, our dynamic felt just like the spaghetti itself. Stiff and easily broken at the very first time, but once fully boiled, we became a tangled, tender mass—softly intertwining and melting into one another.

In South Korea, parties exploit the “guarantee of political freedom” under the Political Parties Act to bypass advertising laws, hollowing out propaganda’s function and monopolizing public space as visual pollution. Banners flood streets, largely unread—reduced to provocative litter. This project imagines a world where such limits are lifted entirely, letting banners overrun cities. Through web and poster, its design overlays everyday refuse, making visible a climate adrift from propaganda.

In Korea, we have a tradition of designing new years cards for each year inspired by the animals of the lunar calender. The year of 2025 was the year of blue snakes, which meant it was a time of revelation of new identities. While working in Germany, I had shared this with my friends and colleagues for good luck of the new year.

Floral Patterns Spread Like a Virus explores the popularity of floral decoration on Korean home appliances. In the 1970s and the consumer-driven 2000s following Korea’s 1997 financial crisis, floral motifs became widespread symbols of their times. Jaehee Jeong interprets this trend as a “virus,” analyzing changes in color, shape, size, area, and density through microbiological experiments. The project visualizes how floral patterns evolved across different eras.

In Korea’s rapid industrialization, objects became symbols of the era’s desires and contradictions rather than mere items. Jaehee Jeong collected 100 objects that reveal hidden social deficiencies and political intentions in daily life. She reinterprets them as spectacles that dazzled the public and as tools that concealed the era’s shortcomings, arranging them on the page with numbered labels. This numbered arrangement invites viewers to reconsider overlooked fragments of history.

In Korea’s rapid industrialization, objects became more than everyday items—they symbolized the desires and contradictions of their time. Jaehee Jeong collected 100 objects that reveal hidden social deficiencies and political intentions embedded in daily life. She reinterprets them as spectacles that dazzled the public eye and as tools that concealed the era’s shortcomings. Presented as a toolbox, the book invites viewers to uncover hidden truths and gaps within history.

Designed by Ha Min Song and Seungmin Chung, this poster for Kaywon University’s 2024 Intermedia Arts graduation exhibition ≪For the Silence That Will Someday Become a Wave≫ leans into negative space as its primary visual language. Song directed the overall composition and layout, while Chung contributed the hand drawings. Together, they let the emptiness do the talking — a sparse surface that quietly echoes the exhibition’s own question of stillness waiting to become a wave.

Starting from Phētes’ meaning—“a prophet who delivers the message of the gods”—I translated the brand identity into a visual language. Under the concept “Blind Prophet—prophecies carried through music and everyday life,” I directed and designed visuals using objects such as Braille, fortune cookies, tea bags, and sheet music. The brand’s main textile patterns were likened to musical scores to express its overall mood.

In South Korea, parties exploit the “guarantee of political freedom” under the Political Parties Act to bypass advertising laws, hollowing out propaganda’s function and monopolizing public space as visual pollution. Banners flood streets, largely unread—reduced to provocative litter. This project imagines a world where such limits are lifted entirely, letting banners overrun cities. Through web and poster, its design overlays everyday refuse, making visible a climate adrift from propaganda.

I used Airport Black and Futura Extra Bold. Airport Black, the heaviest weight in Baltotype’s unofficial Futura, functions as a consumer-oriented American variant. Just as natural imagery in Hyun’s work(Photograph) is consumed as simulated nature rather than an actual landscape, these typefaces also operate within a relationship of originals and reproductions. Both Image and type share a mechanism of replication that replaces reality, reinforcing the artist’s concept of fake nostalgia.

Reflecting the nature of a Korean event held in Japan, I designed the title by adapting the Japanese character “つ” to resemble the Korean consonant “ㄷ.” The brown background and black text on white fabric evoke the atmosphere of a traditional market, while dancheong colors were used as the key palette to express a distinctly Korean sensibility. In line with the curator’s intent to present a polyphonic Korean landscape, I incorporated a variety of typefaces.