Meet Wonchul Ryu

We were lucky to catch up with Wonchul Ryu recently and have shared our conversation below.

Wonchul , thank you so much for making time for us. We’ve always admired your ability to take risks and so maybe we can kick things off with a discussion around how you developed your ability to take and bear risk?

The last decade of my life has involved two significant risks: shifting from engineering to fine art in 2017 and relocating from Korea to the United States in 2022. These were leaps into uncertainty, and they taught me that risk-taking isn’t about fearlessness; it’s about learning to manage fear and navigate the unknown.

Risk is both exciting and exhausting. It pushes you to grow but can also deplete your emotional and physical reserves. I’ve realized that hesitation often stems from uncertainty. It’s human nature to cling to the familiar—it feels safe, even when it’s unfulfilling. But what about the choices we haven’t yet made? When I was in engineering, I hesitated to pursue art because engineering promised stability, even though it lacked passion for me. I already knew what life would look like if I stayed on that path, but I couldn’t predict what lay ahead if I chose art. In hindsight, I was learning to dream and trust the unknown. Today, I find joy in unexpected moments, even though my reality differs from what I initially imagined. Risk invites us to trust what we can’t yet see and envision possibilities beyond the obvious.

For me, grounding has been essential in taking risks. Risk-taking is similar to climbing a mountain, but I’ve found that knowing how to climb back down is just as important. Each climb teaches you something, but life isn’t one monumental challenge—it’s a series of ongoing ones. My sense of grounding comes from trusted relationships, comforting rituals, and familiar touchstones like food or music. These elements create a foundation that helps me recover, reflect, and prepare for the next leap. Discovering what grounds you takes time, but it’s invaluable.

Thanks for sharing that. So, before we get any further into our conversation, can you tell our readers a bit about yourself and what you’re working on?

My name is Wonchul Ryu (류 원철), and I’m an interdisciplinary artist born in Seoul, Korea, now based in Baltimore, Maryland. My work spans sculpture, installation, and public art, exploring themes of (mis)translation, adaptation, and memory. As an Asian “resident alien” in the United States, I navigate a liminal space—not fully belonging here, nor entirely at home in Korea. This in-between state shapes my perspective and drives my artistic practice.

I work with materials like shipping boxes, bricks, sugar, and steel to translate my experiences into tangible forms. These materials, often mundane and mass-produced, reflect the disjointedness of a foreigner’s life—moments of misunderstanding, mistranslation, and isolation frequently unnoticed by local residents. Through my art, I aim to reveal these complexities and foster connections between personal narratives and collective experiences.

Recent milestones in my career include participating in the Yale Norfolk School of Art residency in 2024 and exhibiting in group shows such as Exchange (Maryland Art Place, 2024) and Beyond Borders (The Bridge Arts Foundation, LA, 2023). In 2021, my solo show, 우린 나쁜 꿈 속에 있었지 (We Were in the Bad Dreams), presented in Seoul, explored themes of displacement and memory. Looking ahead, I am excited to continue examining how art can illuminate the nuances of identity, belonging, and adaptation.

If you had to pick three qualities that are most important to develop, which three would you say matter most?

Reflecting on my journey, three qualities have been particularly impactful: adaptability, curiosity, and resilience. These traits continue to shape who I am and how I approach both my work and life. Adapting to new environments has been a constant, especially since moving to the United States. Whether navigating language barriers, understanding social cues, or learning how to grocery shop in a new country, I’ve seen adaptability as less about comfort and more about finding ways to thrive in discomfort. Living as a foreigner in the U.S., even small decisions can feel overwhelming. Over time, I’ve learned that adaptation is a skill you develop and refine. It reveals your limits and strengths, helping you approach uncertainty more clearly.

Curiosity sustains me during moments of uncertainty. It drives my interest in exploring identity, translation, and the spaces in between, which are central to my work. I often start projects without a clear outcome in mind, experimenting with materials and revisiting ideas from new perspectives.

Resilience is something I’m still building. As a foreigner, I have had moments of isolation and self-doubt. Cultural and language barriers can feel heavy, but I’ve found small anchors—like familiar meals, music, or moments of stillness—that provide stability. For me, resilience isn’t about pushing through at all costs but about caring for myself when things get hard. Rest is a part of resilience, too.

If I’ve learned anything, it’s that there’s no perfect formula for growth. I’m still figuring things out, and that’s okay. The key is staying open to the process—experimenting, making mistakes, and asking questions. None of us have it all figured out, and that’s part of the journey.

We’ve all got limited resources, time, energy, focus etc – so if you had to choose between going all in on your strengths or working on areas where you aren’t as strong, what would you choose?

I believe in a dual approach: focusing on strengths in your work while striving to be more well-rounded in life. As an artist, embracing my strengths—material sensitivity and interdisciplinary thinking—has allowed me to go further. Starting art later in life meant I lacked traditional skills, but I learned to view this as an advantage. A professor once told me, “Every brushstroke holds an artist’s history,” which helped me focus on what I could contribute rather than what I lacked.

Outside of art, addressing weaknesses has been transformative. Overcoming challenges like language barriers has helped me grow personally and professionally. These moments of self-confrontation are a form of risk-taking, deepening my reflections and adaptability. Life isn’t just about excelling in one domain; it’s about creating a meaningful balance that enriches all aspects of your experience.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://wonarchive.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jjak_nun

Image Credits

Portrait of Wonchul Ryu: Seth Akgün (@sethakgun)
Artwork photography: Wonchul Ryu