Finding the Homeland is photographer Sangwoo Suh’s conceptualization of an idealistic land in which we claim as our home. It is an unclear and cloudy place, on the cusp of reality, existing only through the influences of Westernized ideals, media representation and memorabilia from our youth. Sangwoo writes, “I feel like I have lived in that world for a while, but this homeland does not exist, it is only in my head.” Exotic nostalgic is the term Sangwoo uses to describe this sense of having grown up in a Westernized South Korean society, “I convinced myself into believing that I inhabited the Western world because of its influences all around me.”

Through Sangwoo’s photographic journey in Italy, we’re able to perceive these feelings of exotic nostalgia. The warm tones of each photograph evoke the sense of a home, welcoming and safe, yet, in its far-off beauty, we’re reminded of the distance between the photographer and photograph–Sangwoo cannot inhabit this homeland, it can only be re-visited, and re-imagined through photographs.

- Alexa Fahlman

I was born in Jinju in 1994 and mostly raised in Jamsil, Seoul. While growing up, I fellt a strange separation between the two worlds around me: Western and Korean. I think this was because Jasmil was especially gentrified for the 1988 Seoul Olympics. It has western-style buildings, Olympic stadiums, monuments, a fancy science experience museum, and a huge amusement park and department store. There is even an American casual restaurant called “Chilis” which has predominantly foreign workers. I used to go there with my parents and cry on Christmas Eve as a guy gave me a present while dressed in a Santa costume. Whenever I went outside, I experienced this Westernized environment.

I remember my dad always brought me a present when he came back from business trips. Those presents were mostly from the U.S. and Canada. One of the gifts that influenced me most was a toy that I could make into an American village. It had a long railroad and alongside it, there were many houses, bridges and village details. It all appeared so real that I felt like I was living in that village.

In the same room where I played with my toy, I could also see real rail tracks from the subway outside my window. When I got bored of playing, I’d switch my attention to the subway rail tracks. This back and forth often blurred the real and unreal landscapes of my childhood.

On weekends, I used to watch Western movies on TV. Compared to the life outside of my door, the films were made up of such stunning worlds. I yearn for this world, but since I was so young, I don’t remember the names and stories of the movies. Now, I’m left with these secondhand, fictitious cultural experiences; the imagery that I saw in these films is strongly carved into my soul. I remember an American cowboy riding a horse, Roman soldiers fighting, European nobles and peasants going on adventures, intense golden sunsets, a cozy house lying beneath silver moonshine, old Italian houses, and flowery highlands.

This works as the primary vision of my ideal homeland. These memories inspire me to long for the homeland that I can’t visit. However, I can partially explore it as a I go on a journey. Then, my longings are partly satisfied as I capture and collect my journey.

SANGWOO ON IG