Jeong: The Spirit of Korean Craft and Design
In Conversation with Hyo Jung Lee
15.10.26

Book Club is an opportunity for design discourse – news, views and reviews from the world of publishing in conversation with our favourite design authors, commentators and provocateurs.

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Hyo Jung Lee is a Korean-born, Dutch-raised graphic designer currently based in London. In 2020, she founded the Korean Craft and Design digital platform, through which she has facilitated dialogues between Korean and international designers to explore how leading creatives draw inspiration from Korea’s craft culture. She has spent her career working with international branding agencies and is currently at Pentagram.

Hyo is also the author of Jeong: The Spirit of Korean Craft and Design, published by Phaidon. Showcasing the creativity, quality and beauty of Korean design, Jeong presents 175 remarkable objects, from lacquerware, ceramics and embroidery to furniture and textiles, spanning centuries of tradition and innovation. More than a survey, the book is both a celebration of Korean craft and an invitation to experience Korea through its design traditions.

NHO Editor, Hayley Tillett, recently spoke with Hyo about Jeong. This is their conversation.

Portrait and book photography courtesy of Hyo Jung Lee.

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HT: Hyo, thanks for joining me. In the book’s foreword, you describe ‘jeong’ as a uniquely Korean concept without a direct English equivalent. Can you describe the significance of ‘jeong’ in establishing a foundation for the book?

HJL: I wanted the book to represent Korean culture and Korea as a country, rather than focusing solely on its craft and design. We were looking for a word that could capture the essence of the book, but also something that felt uniquely Korean. Jeong came to mind. Jeong is an emotion that describes a deep sense of affection and attachment that can only develop over time. It can exist between people, but also towards objects and places.

In a way, many of the objects in the book are things I have jeong for because I grew up with them. With the contemporary pieces, it can also describe the relationship between the maker and the object they create. That’s why I thought it was the right word to be the title for the book.

HT: The book brings together 175 objects, from anonymous folk crafts to celebrated contemporary works. What was your process for deciding which objects could collectively tell the story of Korean craft and design and what did that process reveal to you about the breadth and character of Korean design?

HJL: I’m not an expert in Korean craft. I didn’t study Korean art history or Korean craft, and I left Korea when I was ten. Although I returned every couple of years and always felt very connected to the country, in some ways I was also looking at Korea from an outsider’s perspective. So, when I came to do this book, I wanted it to be accessible for anyone who didn’t know about Korea, as an introduction to traditional Korean craft and design – naturally, it includes objects you would expect to find in museums.

But I also wanted to include everyday objects that are distinctly Korean and which were more modern inventions – like the red rubber gloves that are a staple in almost every Korean household and can often be found hanging somewhere in the kitchen. Because Koreans are obsessed with hygiene, dishes are often washed in extremely hot water, so these rubber gloves became an everyday necessity. It may seem like an ordinary object, but it tells you something about how people live.

I wanted the book to tell the story of Korean culture through a very personal lens. So it needed to encompass the very traditional—such as the moon jar, which many people are familiar with today—alongside modern inventions like rubber gloves, and contemporary designers who are reinterpreting traditional craft through their own practice.

HT: You locate jeong in the attachment that develops between an object and the person who lives with it, suggesting that an object’s value can deepen through use, care and familiarity. Are there particular objects in the book that make this relationship especially tangible, and what might they reveal about the value of design over time?

HJL: I think all well-designed objects can gain value through the relationship that develops between the object and the person using it — and that is where jeong can begin to form. An object isn’t necessarily complete when the maker finishes making it. Its life continues once somebody begins to use it, care for it and live with it. I think many objects find their true value through use.

Onggi jars, for example. They are very particular to Korean culture. Their porous structure is intentionally designed to allow ingredients to breathe and ferment; such as kimchi, gochujang and Korean soy sauce. But beyond their functional purpose, onggi jars become part of the Korean home. Traditionally, they would sit together outside the house, storing and preserving food for the family. Over time, they become part of the landscape of the home and part of everyday family life.

HT: In his essay for Jeong, South Korean interior designer, Teo Yang, describes craft as “another way of orientating ourselves” in an era of overproduction and overconsumption – a reflective practice that can reclaim human sensitivity and creative agency. How do you see this philosophy playing out in the design world today, and what might it offer a broader design culture increasingly questioning how and why we make?

HJL: I think what Teo is speaking about is very relevant to the way many designers are thinking today. We are surrounded by objects that can be produced incredibly quickly and in enormous quantities, so the question is no longer only whether we can make something, but why we are making it, how is it made, and what kind of relationship do we want people to have with it.

What craft offers is a different pace and a different value system. It brings attention back to material, process, place and the human hand. A handmade object carries evidence of time, skill and decision-making in a way that something completely standardised often does not. I think that naturally encourages us to value objects differently — to keep them for longer, to care for them and to build ‘jeong’ with them.

HT: There is a pleasing reciprocity between the subject of the book and the book itself: its tactile paper, stitch binding and traditional Korean construction make it an object to be handled and kept. How did you approach designing the book as an expression of the spirit of jeong?

HJL: I wanted the book’s physical construction to reference traditional Korean paper, hanji, as well as the double-folded pages and binding techniques found in historic Korean books. Koreans have a long tradition of documenting and preserving things, and books were incredibly important. Many of these techniques developed partly as ways of protecting books and allowing them to remain intact for as long as possible. So rather than simply creating a book about Korean craft, I wanted the object itself—the paper, binding and way it is handled—to carry something of that tradition too.

HT: On a more personal note, you have a connection to Australia through your husband. Has Australia influenced your perspective on design in any way, and do you have plans to visit soon?

HJL: Ha – yes, having a husband who was an editor for a magazine for many years has definitely influenced me to write a book. I’m not too sure whether Australia has influenced my perspective on design – but I was there for Christmas last year and had my very first hot Christmas which was disorientating! And yes, I definitely plan to visit again soon – although perhaps during one of your cooler seasons next time, for a slightly breezier getaway.

HT: An excellent plan! Thanks Hyo.

HJL: Thanks so much for your questions. I hope to see you all in Australia soon – unless you guys make it over Europe first!

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Jeong: The Spirit of Korean Craft and Design is available to purchase via Phaidon and other select bookshops.