Interviews met Sangin Park

The core principles behind this design are structural stability and the inheritance of tradition. I spent a long time observing the structures of chairs that have been loved for generations. Instead of looking at their beautiful exteriors, I studied their underlying frameworks. It is truly amazing that they designed chairs that are both functionally and aesthetically perfect. Seeing how each chair offered a different solution to achieve physical stability provided me with the greatest inspiration.

My main focus was on improving the side profile of the chair. In my personal opinion, the side views of many chairs often feel less appealing compared to their front views. I concluded that this limitation is caused by the dependent position and angle between the back legs and the backrest. By structurally separating these two elements, I gained complete design freedom. What I ultimately wanted to achieve was a chair that possesses a beautiful and perfectly balanced silhouette from the side.

My immediate plan for this award winning design is to pair it with a new dining table. I am currently developing a table that shares the exact same structural nuance and aesthetic language as this chair. Ultimately I want to host a solo exhibition where this chair and the new table are presented together to beautifully fill a single space.

The actual design process for the submitted chair, Soo no.2, took less than two days because it was a modified version of the previous model, Soo. However, this piece is the culmination of a year long project where I created twelve different chairs in twelve months. So the true conceptual development took an entire year of continuous woodworking.

This design was not commissioned. It started simply because I needed a chair for my own personal use. More importantly, I wanted to discover exactly what I truly like and what kind of design resonates with me through the physical process of building it myself.

I currently produce this chair independently in my studio. It is not being produced by any other company at the moment. However, I am open to selling or leasing the production rights in the future if I find a partner company that fully respects and can accurately reproduce the structural honesty of this design.

As a furniture maker a chair is the most challenging and fascinating object to build. Having a chair of my own design was originally a plan for later after I had gained more experience. However I was not satisfied with the chairs I was using at home so I started this project with the simple idea of replacing them one by one.

The chairs designed by Hans J Wegner and Finn Juhl always provide me with excellent solutions. I believe there is a clear reason why certain chairs have been loved for such a long time. Studying their works greatly influenced how I approach and resolve structural challenges in my own design.

The primary target customer is someone who appreciates structural honesty and the pure beauty of wood. Although the shape of this chair is unique, the construction methods, the underlying philosophy, and the materials used are all entirely faithful to traditional chair making. The ideal user would be someone who can clearly recognize this beautiful balance between a unique silhouette and traditional heritage.

The most unique aspect of this design is the structural separation of the back legs and the backrest. By further highlighting these disconnected elements, the physical framework itself becomes a visual joy.

During my project of creating twelve chairs, I decided to name each piece after someone I have loved. The name 'Soo' belonged to a past lover, and it was given to the previous model in the series. Because this submitted work is a structurally modified and refined version of that exact chair, I naturally named it 'Soo no.2'.

I first established the basic structure through hand sketches. Then I used 3D modeling software, such as SketchUp or Autodesk Fusion, to build volumetric models and confirm if the design was physically logical.

The most distinct feature is that the physical framework intentionally becomes the primary visual joy. Although every element exists solely to provide structural stability and there are no decorative additions, I believe it is still a highly compelling design.

There was no collaboration or external technical assistance involved in this project.

In this design, technology plays a strictly supporting role as a verification tool. While the actual construction relies entirely on traditional woodworking, I used modern 3D modeling software like Autodesk Fusion to verify the physical logic and calculate exact proportions beforehand.

No, this design was not influenced by data or analytical research.

Once I decided to detach the backrest from the back legs, I faced an unexpectedly vast range of design possibilities. Navigating through those endless options to find the perfect proportions, ones that make the entire chair look tight, solid, and sturdy, was the most difficult part of the process.

After completing this chair with great satisfaction, I wanted to receive objective evaluations from as many people as possible. Submitting to an international competition was the best way to present my work to a wide audience and get honest feedback.

A chair is a furniture that interacts with people more closely than any other piece of furniture. Therefore, I learned that it must be designed fundamentally around the human body. Through this process, I realized that a piece of furniture that is comfortable to use is far more beautiful than one that simply looks visually appealing.

I do not have anything specific to add. However, answering these questions provided a great opportunity to reflect deeply on my own work and ask myself questions I had not considered before. It was a meaningful process.

My background is quite a detour. I majored in architectural engineering and even tried to become a novelist after graduation, but neither felt like the right fit. I worked a couple of ordinary corporate jobs, but even then, my pure joy was visiting museums and exhibitions in my free time. I never started with a grand ambition to become a 'designer.' One day, I simply started taking woodworking classes, and little by little, the desire to build things with my own hands grew. That quiet urge to physically make the things I imagined is what brought me to where I am today.

Currently, I don't have a formal design studio or company; I operate completely as an independent maker. Rather than a grand office, my goal is to build a workshop that is perfectly tailored to my personal working style and the physical flow of making furniture.

To me, design is an element added to a space that brings comfort or joy to our human senses. Sometimes, it acts as a 'pleasant interference'—something we might be much freer without, yet brings pure joy simply by being there.

I am most passionate about designing objects for my own personal use. I love the anticipation of picturing exactly where a piece will be placed and how I will interact with it every day. The moment that piece is actually set in its intended space, bringing that imagination into physical reality, brings me the purest joy. It’s like a personal dream come true.

To be honest, my absolute favorite design is the form of a tree itself. It is amazing how each tree holds its own unique blueprint, growing in completely different ways, yet always achieving the most stable structures. At any given moment of its growth, a tree is already perfect. There is absolutely nothing to add, and nothing to take away.

I haven't worked as a corporate in-house designer, but my first commissioned project was for a bespoke tailor shop in Korea. They asked me to design a tray and coaster set for serving tea and coffee to their clients. Since a tailor shop creates garments dedicated to a single individual, I wanted the serving experience to reflect that same individualized care.

I designed a rectangular tray where three different sized coasters fit perfectly inside as a cohesive set. For practical storage, I carved interlocking grooves on the top and bottom of the trays so they could stack neatly on top of each other without separating the pieces. The owner loved it, and I actually still receive occasional orders from their clients who use the set firsthand.

When it comes to materials, my absolute favorite is white oak. Its grain is notoriously tough and stubborn, which demands a lot of physical effort and increases the chance of making a mistake. However, I love it for its natural light brown tone, which is the quintessential color that immediately comes to mind when you think of 'wood'. Exotic woods with wild patterns certainly have their charm, but nothing compares to the enduring beauty of white oak. The moment I rub oil into the surface of a fully assembled piece and watch its timeless color emerge, I am absolutely mesmerized.

I feel the most creative when I strongly feel the need for something. Even the chair I submitted to the A' Design Award was made just because I needed it for myself. In fact, every single piece I am truly proud of started from my own necessity. Because the need is so genuine, it allows me to inject a deeply individual perspective into the work, which makes the creative process incredibly fun and exciting.

I am always careful to ensure that a design never deviates from its original purpose. I constantly evaluate whether unnecessary components are making the piece too heavy, or if any parts are too thin and might compromise its structural stability.

I experience an alternating cycle of excitement and a sense of inadequacy. Imagining the completed work always makes my heart race. However, whenever I struggle to resolve a certain detail, I deeply feel my own limitations.

I feel a mixture of joy and relief. It is always a pleasure when a piece I personally needed turns out exactly as I imagined. I feel an immense sense of relief that the project was completed without any major mistakes and, most importantly, without any physical injuries. Yet, right at the very end, I also experience a slight anxiety as I begin to wonder what I should design next.

I believe that a successful design comes from a constant awareness of its intended purpose. The designer must keep the original function of the piece in mind throughout the entire design process.

A good design never gives the user a sense of anxiety. While a pure artwork might require a different approach, I believe that for crafts and furniture, one must always consider whether the piece causes any discomfort or physical insecurity for the user. Having beautiful decorations on a table leg is perfectly fine. However, if the wood removed to create those decorations weakens the structure to the point where it can no longer support adequate weight, then I consider that beautiful decoration to be a bad design.

I believe designers should constantly reflect on whether a piece born from personal inspiration can be universally embraced by society and the environment. We must always ask ourselves if we are the only ones satisfied with the result, and ensure that our work does not cause any harm to our surroundings.

I have a certain level of caution regarding AI generated design. Good design has always been recognized under the premise that it originates from a creative individual. This naturally raises the question of who should receive the credit for designs created by artificial intelligence. This issue is particularly complicated because we cannot clearly determine whether a design was actually made by AI or not. Over a long period, I am sure it will eventually become a helpful tool for humans. However, right now, it seems we are only at the starting point of a transitional phase.

I have not yet had a solo exhibition. But if I can gather a few more pieces of furniture or objects that beautifully complete an entire space together with the chair I recently crafted, I hope to host my first solo exhibition sometime next year.

My creativity is fed by observing furniture that has preserved its shape over many years. When a design does not change over a long period, it proves that people find it completely comfortable to use, and to me, that is the criterion for excellent design. I focus heavily on the structural integrity rather than the decorative elements of these enduring works, always questioning why the designer chose to build them in that exact way.

I do not think I have a specific design style. My current focus is entirely on studying the underlying skeleton of furniture. I believe that thoughtfully designing that bare structure is often perfectly sufficient on its own, leaving no need for any added style.

I live in Seoul, South Korea, and I believe I am always under the influence of our cultural heritage. Although furniture from various European brands is the most easily accessible here, I feel a unique warmth whenever I see historical Korean pieces in museums. Perhaps this warmth comes from the memories of the unrefined, simple furniture at my grandmother's house when I was young. Living here has its pros and cons. South Korea is a country where trends change rapidly. The ability to adapt quickly to these shifts is a significant advantage, but the disadvantage is the risk of leaving behind the essential values that we should actually protect.

I have not yet worked with companies. My focus has been entirely on my independent work.

Rather than the fame of the designer or the company, I believe what truly matters is whether both parties are ready to listen to each other's needs. A good collaboration starts with a mutual willingness to understand one another.

Once I decide what to make, I try to look at objects with the same purpose from as many different cultures as possible. I select or blend the most efficient approaches among them to create a basic sketch of a framework that can stand structurally on its own. After that, I use a 3D program to add volume and rigorously verify whether the design actually makes sense.

1. CH24 Wishbone Chair by Hans J Wegner : I consider it the most beautiful and practical chair design.

2. Bianchi Pista Bicycle : It represents the beautiful and perfect form of a fixed gear bicycle.

3. Arabia Finland Ruija vintage coffee cup and saucer : The hand drawn pattern is highly decorative, but it undeniably makes my coffee time much more enjoyable.

4. PlayStation DualSense Wireless Controller : It is a design that has been maintained without major changes for a very long time.

5. Soo no 2 Chair made by myself : It is a chair that I am personally very satisfied with.

My day starts with a brief prayer and washing up before heading out. Most of my time is spent at the workshop, but if I am in the middle of a design phase, I visit museums or exhibitions. Then I come back home, have a meal, and do a bit of jogging. I spend the rest of my evening doing ordinary household chores until I fall asleep.

Since I am also an emerging designer myself, I cannot offer any grandiose words of wisdom. However, I believe the most important thing is to keep working consistently until you genuinely feel it is enough for yourself.

The greatest positive is the pure joy of creating something new entirely by myself. However, the negatives are very realistic. I have to deal with an inconsistent income. Furthermore, amidst such rapid social changes, I often struggle with a heavy doubt about whether the work I am doing is actually unnecessary.

My golden rule is to remove anything unnecessary. Yet, I also believe that when a decorative element goes beyond structural beauty, it should be embraced.

The most important skill is knowing how to ask the right questions. Instead of just replicating a beautiful piece, a designer must question how that form came into existence, and why they themselves are drawn to it.

Since I can always observe exceptional design there, museums and exhibitions remain constant sources of inspiration for me. When I need to find modern solutions, exploring high end furniture sellers is also very helpful. The book Wegner: Just One Good Chair by Christian Holmsted Olesen is a great resource where I discover new lessons every time I open it. It was the book I relied on the most whenever I faced a block while designing chairs.

I tend to divide the work into distinct stages and always set a generous duration when starting. That way, I do not have to rush myself. If I happen to finish early, I can use that time to prepare for the next phase in advance.

It depends heavily on the specific object I am designing. Sometimes a piece is finished in less than a week, and other times it requires two full months to complete from beginning to end.

I have not had many opportunities to be interviewed, but the question I am asked most often is if my work is for my personal use or a commissioned project.

I spent several years working at a finishing company, serving as the point of contact for clients and producing samples for new projects. By dealing with a wide range of people, I learned that while client requests are incredibly diverse, there is also a surprising similarity in the aesthetic tastes that people share.

As an independent furniture maker, my clients are mostly private individuals. I also worked with Jangmirasa, a tailor shop located in Seoul, crafting coasters and trays for them to serve drinks to their customers.

The type of work I enjoy the most is creating pieces for my own personal use. When I clearly understand the exact location and purpose of an object, even if it is just a simple box, it keeps me motivated and full of anticipation from the beginning to the end.

I want to hold a solo exhibition someday by preparing a few pieces of furniture and objects that harmoniously fill a single space. I currently need to build a new dining table for my home. I plan to design this table to share the same nuance as my chair, and it would be great to display them together at the exhibition.

I do not work as a team. I develop all my designs and build the furniture entirely by myself.

I am currently working on a bedroom chest of drawers using ash wood. While studying traditional Korean furniture, I was deeply inspired by a chest from the Jeju region. Due to unique environmental factors, chests from that island developed a completely different form compared to those from other areas. However, a rough and bulky chest meant purely for storage would feel too heavy and stifling for a bedroom. To resolve this, I designed an open section within the chest to display small items, such as Korean porcelain or celadon. I am really looking forward to finishing this piece because it will transform the bedroom from a simple sleeping area into a space where I can quietly appreciate my favorite objects.

You can contact me directly via email at “sangin.inthepark@gmail.com”. You can also see my latest works and send me a message through my Instagram account, @namac.anyware.

There is nothing specific left to add. I think this process has been a great opportunity to ask myself questions that I had not yet asked before. Thank you.

By the time I was designing the seventh of the twelve chairs I planned in 2025, I felt I had figured out a certain formula that a chair should follow. As a result, the design of that month did not change much compared to the previous month. I was not satisfied with this lack of change. I realized that altering the configuration of the rear legs and the extended backrest support, which were the parts I had left largely untouched, would bring a significant shift to the overall design. This mechanical separation proved that a chair does not need to follow convention to be honest. It reshaped my understanding by showing that true structural stability comes from assigning a clear and dedicated purpose to every single wooden part.

My first design was a simple stool. A seat height of 465 millimeters felt perfectly appropriate for my body. I built my first chair using that exact same measurement, but the result was surprisingly uncomfortable. A chair requires a person to lean against a backrest, and this physical action fundamentally changes the human posture. I was amazed to discover how such small numerical variations dictate overall comfort. The iterative process taught me that accumulated knowledge is essentially useless unless it is physically tested and proven in a new environment. The Soo No. 2 Chair was born by carefully gathering only the proven strengths of the previous eleven chairs. The final piece demonstrates a structure that is entirely simple, physically sturdy, and visually stable.

While a chair is fundamentally a tool for resting and its primary purpose can be easily fulfilled regardless of the chosen material, the connection between the user and the object can change significantly depending on the perspective of the person looking at the furniture. Building with a natural material like wood naturally evokes a much warmer emotional response, and knowing that a piece is carefully crafted for a few individuals, rather than being mass produced in a factory, brings a unique sense of specialness. I believe this quiet appreciation ultimately becomes a profound joy in everyday life.

Because Korea has a long history of a floor sitting culture, chairs did not develop as traditional furniture. However, various pieces like chests and small reading tables have been loved for a long time, leading to the development of rich and beautiful joinery methods. These traditional techniques are not significantly different from Western ones, and discovering similar methods across different cultures simply means they were highly efficient in solving structural problems. As times have changed, most Koreans now sit on chairs to eat meals at a dining table. Therefore, the Soo No. 2 Chair is simply an efficient form that reflects my current lifestyle, rather than a reflexive response or a conscious departure from any inherited cultural condition.

I have seen many beautiful and highly elaborate works submitted to the A Design Award, and I believe my piece possesses a distinctly honest quality in comparison. I am deeply pleased that this simple, straightforward, and unhidden honesty has been recognized by the international design community. Realizing that my chair holds a natural beauty that can resonate with others, even without relying on special techniques or complex manufacturing methods, has given me great confidence to continue my future work with firm conviction.

The Soo No. 2 Chair borrows several dimensions from a well regarded mid century Scandinavian chair, but it features distinct structural differences. For instance, the relative distance, height, and tilt angle of the backrest remain identical, but the curvature that embraces the back is entirely different. The classic CH24 chair utilizes a large curve to connect the backrest and armrests into a single continuous piece. Because I mechanically separated these parts in the Soo No. 2, there was no need for such an extreme curve. I also wrapped my backrest in paper cord to provide a much softer tactile feel. While the CH24 design offers a specific wrapping sensation due to its deep curvature, the Soo No. 2 provides a distinctly gentle and soft physical touch against the spine. There are countless subtle factors influencing the relationship between a person and a chair that standard books on human dimensions simply cannot capture. This observation taught me that physical comfort is a highly subjective experience, proving that ultimate seating satisfaction is created through a careful balance of distinct structural choices rather than a single universal formula.

I believe that the proper extension of structural lines visually reveals the physical connections, providing the user with visual stability and structural clarity. The diamond shaped details on the frame sides serve as an active finishing method for the through mortise and tenon joints. This specific approach secures a larger gluing surface area than standard joints, offering a much stronger structural advantage. The connection between the armrest and the backrest support was a detail I deeply considered until the very late stages of the design process. Although this area does not endure extreme physical stress, it still required reliable support for overall stability. Attempting to use wood solely to maintain material uniformity would have actually ruined the intended silhouette of the chair. Therefore, the use of brass pins was a deliberate material choice meant specifically to protect and preserve the overall shape of the Soo No. 2 Chair.

Through the process of designing several chairs, I have come to realize that structural honesty, visual balance, and bodily comfort must all be satisfied at the highest possible level without leaning too heavily in any one direction. Today, a vast number of chairs are created based purely on the personal tastes of individual designers. While the existence of such a wide variety of designs is highly fascinating, it is deeply regrettable to see pieces that entirely ignore the user being justified under the mere pretext of contemporary furniture. Because chairs endure the most direct human contact and rapid physical stress among all furniture types, they must fundamentally remain objects that allow us to sit and rest comfortably. Unless a piece is strictly meant for visual appreciation, a chair built for sitting should always prioritize fitting the human body naturally over simply providing visual entertainment.

The Soo No. 2 Chair is a revised edition of the chairs I have observed so far, created using materials that I can easily obtain. If I had wanted to emphasize specific regional characteristics, I would have used traditional Korean weaving materials like rice straw or sedge instead of Danish cord. However, while building this chair, I realized that both Nordic and Korean cultures share a very similar perspective on furniture. They both highly value honesty in material use and strictly avoid excessive decoration. This realization completely freed me from worrying about which stylistic direction I needed to pursue. While furniture design certainly exists within a continuity of culture and customs, at its absolute core, it remains an object born from the long standing reflections and experiences of craftsmen striving to make something comfortable for people to use.

Assuming both the logic of structure and the logic of the body are satisfied to a certain degree, I personally believe that the logic of the body must be emphasized more. All twelve chairs I built are sturdy enough for me to sit and eat a meal comfortably. However, the one I naturally reach for the most is always the one that feels most comfortable to my body. Because I realized the absolute importance of the parts that physically touch the human body, the design process for my eleventh chair began directly from the exact positions of the seat, backrest, and armrests. I attempted to create a simple structure by connecting these human contact points with minimal lines. When I finally established the legs and drew the horizontal elements connecting them, the current design naturally emerged on my workbench. This final configuration closely resembled the balanced structure of widely loved Nordic design chairs, and at that specific moment in the workshop, I felt complete resolution because I realized there was absolutely no need to reduce or remove anything further.