Jieun Cheon (b. 1995) is a multidisciplinary artist based in New York, exploring perception, memory, and the limits of understanding. Through installations that combine sculpture, painting, and drawing, she investigates paradoxes—order and chaos, visibility and absence. Her ongoing project, Uncanished Workld, creates immersive environments reflecting the tension between structure and instability. Cheon holds BFA and MFA degrees in Sculpture from Seoul National University and an MFA in Fine Arts from the School of Visual Arts, New York. Her work has been exhibited internationally and developed through residencies including NARS and Kunstraum.

Can you tell us about your background and how you started your artistic journey?

My artistic journey began in early childhood. I was deeply drawn to visual expression from a young age and spent most of my time drawing and making things. In elementary school, I even created postcards to sell for charity and made dolls both for myself and as gifts for others. At that time, making things felt completely natural to me.

Originally, I planned to study animation until middle school. However, after entering an art high school and immersing myself in fine art through creating my own work, I realized that my talent and passion were more aligned with fine art than animation. A major turning point came when I visited an exhibition from François Pinault’s collection and encountered works by leading contemporary artists. Seeing how artists could engage in a profound dialogue with materials and transform them into sublime forms had a powerful impact on me. That experience solidified my decision to pursue art seriously, which eventually led me to study sculpture at Seoul National University and later fine arts at the School of Visual Arts in New York.

What is your creative process like? Do you follow a routine or work spontaneously?

My creative process is structured, reflective, and driven by a continuous dialogue between intuition and reason. I don’t work purely spontaneously—in fact, one of my core rules is to never follow my very first intuitive impulse. Instead, I take time to examine where that instinct comes from, whether it’s rooted in a memory, an image, or a larger system of thought. From there, I research references and concepts that resonate with that initial spark, gradually filtering out what feels superficial and keeping only what feels essential. Because of this process, my work may appear highly controlled or calculated, but the intuitive elements that remain are the distilled core of my visual sensibility. In this way, intuition becomes more precise rather than disappearing.

I also tend to develop several project ideas simultaneously. Rather than forcing one idea into difficult conditions, I usually select which project to realize based on the materials, space, and technical limitations available at the time. This approach allows me to avoid major disruptions and helps the production process flow more smoothly, though it can be frustrating to postpone projects that require very specific conditions. Still, I stay flexible, especially during installation. When unexpected restrictions arise, I adapt on site and find alternative solutions. Overall, my process is not impulsive, but responsive—guided by careful planning, research, and a willingness to adjust when reality demands it.

Can you describe a recent project or artwork that you are particularly proud of?

Two recent projects that I am particularly proud of include Origami Hermit Craband and The Calendar of the Permutations of 1000 Arms, two works that explore different aspects of my artistic practice.

Origami Hermit Crab investigates imagined physical landscapes and geological structures through modular map-like drawings and sculptures. Inspired by fractal theory and the myth of Aspidochelone, the works take the form of fractal snail shell structures, revealing how space is generated, expanded, and transformed. At the center of this series is The Anti-Fractal Map, a sequence of intricate pen drawings and watercolor paintings on silk. Each piece functions like a navigable map, where architectural elements such as Gothic arches, gravestones, and plant forms are arranged within geometric grids based on fractal principles. While these compositions initially appear orderly, inconsistencies and spatial distortions gradually emerge, reflecting the tension between rational structure and the chaos that lies beneath it. I am currently working on the third iteration of this series and expanding its sculptural components.

Alongside this, The Calendar of the Permutations of 1000 Arms is an ongoing installation that takes the form of a fictional calendar and serves as an experiment in deconstructing religion. In this project, I reinterpret the Thousand-Armed Bodhisattva as a system of time. The installation consists of acrylic-painted panels, pen-drawn wooden panels, and sculptural elements made of brass and quartz. The acrylic paintings depict decaying flesh in layered shades of red, while the pen drawings reconstruct the mineral components of the deity’s arms, referencing the Buddhist concept of śarīra (sacred relics). Each stacked pair of panels symbolizes a single arm, and together they function like a calendar that records the continuous cycle of formation, life, and decay. My long-term goal is to complete 1,000 pen-drawn panels, and I am currently focused on advancing this extensive series.

These two projects, one focused on spatial mapping and structure, the other on time, belief, and transformation, together reflect my ongoing interest in how order, chaos, perception, and systems of meaning are constructed and experienced through art.

Two recent projects that I am particularly proud of include Origami Hermit Craband and The Calendar of the Permutations of 1000 Arms, two works that explore different aspects of my artistic practice.

What role do you believe art plays in social and cultural change?

I think art plays a unique role in shaping social and cultural change by making the invisible visible. It can surface the structures, beliefs, and patterns that often go unquestioned in everyday life. In my work, I focus on myths, rituals, and systems of knowledge—showing how deeply human perception is shaped by both cultural and psychological frameworks.

By revealing these frameworks, art encourages reflection and awareness. It doesn’t prescribe behavior, but it allows people to reconsider assumptions and explore alternative ways of understanding the world. For example, the obsessive dedication and labor behind traditional religious art or architecture—something I study and respond to—can make viewers aware of devotion, discipline, and values that have historically structured societies.

In this sense, art becomes a subtle agent of change: it challenges norms not by preaching, but by creating experiences that expand perspective, provoke thought, and invite new ways of seeing ourselves and the world around us.

How do your personal experiences and identity influence your art?

My personal experiences and identity are deeply tied to my art. Growing up navigating different cultural and philosophical frameworks, I became very aware of how belief systems and rituals shape the way we perceive and understand the world. That curiosity naturally flows into my work, where I explore myths, knowledge structures, and the ways humans construct meaning.

One of the strongest influences on me has been directly experiencing religious art and architecture. Visiting cathedrals, temples, and sacred spaces, I was struck by the obsessive dedication and precision of the artisans who created them. Their work often borders on madness—repeating patterns, layering intricate details, and committing themselves fully, sometimes blindly, to their vision. I was captivated by this intensity, this almost fanatical devotion, and it made me reflect on the kind of commitment I wanted to bring to my own practice.

In my own process, I try to channel that same relentless focus. Folding, drawing, layering, and repeating over long hours, I embrace the rigorous, ascetic discipline and the kind of obsession that pushes a work toward precision and depth. My personal conflicts, my curiosity, and my devotion to the making process all find a tangible form in the work, and I see that as the truest expression of my identity in my art.

What do you hope people take away from your art when they experience it?

When people experience my work, I hope they take away two main impressions. First, I want them to appreciate the beauty of dedicated labor. I am inspired by religious artisans who pursued their craft with obsessive devotion, sometimes bordering on madness. Their unwavering commitment enabled them to carry out meticulous and demanding work. I see this intensity not as a flaw, but as a raw creative force that drives transcendence through making—an attitude that, to me, embodies the true essence of visual art.

Second, I hope viewers sense the complexity of inquiry embedded in my practice. My work explores how the mind interacts with the world—how belief systems, myths, and structures of knowledge shape perception. Rather than offering clear narratives, it invites wandering, decoding, and reassembling, reflecting the exploratory and unstable nature of cognition.

Ultimately, I see my work as a shared encounter: the audience brings their own experiences, just as I bring mine. I hope people leave with curiosity, reflection, and a sense that art is a space where interpretations multiply and new meanings emerge.

Text & photo courtesy of Jieun Cheon

Website: https://www.uncanishedworkld.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/0_uncanished_workld/