Gyung Jin Shin (b. 1983, Seoul, Korea) is an artist and researcher based in Hong Kong and Seoul. Her multidisciplinary practice spans video, sculpture, and installation, integrating computational methods like physical computing, generative processes, and 3D printing. Treating technology as a subject of ontological inquiry, Shin critically investigates how technological infrastructures reconfigure human labor, affect, and value systems. Her research-driven practice playfully disassembles and grafts digital and nondigital processes to challenge underlying social hierarchies and reveal the hidden mechanics of our digital milieu. Most recently, she has been exploring critical narratives surrounding digital labor through generative sculpture and algorithm-driven practices.

As an artist-researcher, Shin’s creative projects and academic inquiries have been widely introduced across international cultural and academic platforms. Her major solo exhibitions include The Unmined (Current Plans, Hong Kong, 2025), Smiley Suicide (Night Gallery, Los Angeles, 2015), and Hexagonal Chamber (Gallery Kong, Seoul, 2013), earning reviews from major publications such as The Los Angeles Times and Monthly Art. Her works have also been featured in prominent institutions and events, including the Gangwon International Triennale, the Incheon Women Artists’ Biennale, the Ilmin Museum of Art, and the Seoul Museum of Art in Korea; the Doosan Gallery, the Chelsea Art Museum, and the Fisher Landau Center for Art in New York; and Videoformes in France. Complementing her artistic practice, her research in digital art has been published in leading international journals such as Leonardo and presented at major international conferences, including ISEA. Shin holds a BFA from Seoul National University, an MFA from Columbia University, and a Ph.D. from the City University of Hong Kong. She is currently an Assistant Professor at the Academy of Visual Arts, Hong Kong Baptist University.

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

My journey as an artist started with a very simple moment. When I was about five years old, I was lying on the floor drawing. My grandmother praised my work, and right then, I simply thought: “I want to be an artist.” That dream has never changed. However, as I grew older, my interest naturally shifted from drawing on flat surfaces to making physical, three-dimensional objects. I was especially fascinated by movement and mechanics. I spent my childhood tinkering with small motors and batteries to build moving figures and miniature elevators. I even carried a small notebook everywhere, constantly sketching out ideas for little inventions.

The turning point toward sculpture came during my time at an arts high school. In my very first sculpture class, we were asked to observe an animal and model it in clay. I chose a water buffalo. As my hands shaped the complex, twisting curves of its horns, I felt a sense of space and volume awaken inside me. That experience solidified my decision to major in sculpture. For me, the greatest appeal of this medium is the freedom it offers—being able to bring my imagination to life in physical space using a wide variety of materials.

What are the main themes or concepts you explore in your work?

In my practice, technology itself becomes a subject of deep contemplation, rather than just a tool or material to create an artwork. Throughout history, technology has never existed separately from our lives; instead, it has constantly co-evolved with us. Today, this rapid technological change is redefining what it means to be human.

My main approach to exploring these themes is system-building. I create new systems by weaving together scientific principles, philosophical ideas, and historical events, surrounding  technology and its inherent technicity. Through these systems, my goal is to bring attention to the important questions and hidden structures that are often overlooked in our everyday lives and society.

As technology fundamentally reshapes our reality at an unprecedented pace, navigating this shift requires more than just adapting to new tools. I firmly believe that contemporary art has a unique and essential role to play here. It calls for an artistic intervention—one that embraces imaginative leaps, unexpected twists, and a sense of humor. Art provides a crucial space to challenge the rigid logic of technological progress, reveal the hidden implications we might have missed, and ultimately spark meaningful conversations about the possible futures we actually want to create.

How has your artistic style evolved over time?

My artistic practice has evolved through a few key turning points. My early experiments with kinetic art marked the first major shift. Driven by a desire to create moving sculptures, I began combining water pumps with figurative forms and adding motorized elements to wooden structures. I was deeply fascinated by the mechanics of building a functional system. At the time, before platforms like Arduino or Python were widely accessible, and without formal technical training in my undergraduate and graduate studies, I frequented local electronics markets for advice. I even joined a university robotics club, teaching myself C programming, physical computing, and circuit design to bring my early kinetic installations to life.

This period established the core logic of my work: bringing together different components and concepts to build a new system. Because how things work is just as important to me as the final object, I naturally started using performance and video to make these inner workings and processes visible. My experiments with materials expanded significantly during my MFA at Columbia University. There, I began mixing different disciplines to examine the underlying motivations of my practice. A prime example is Smiley Suicide (Fig. 01). Combining performance, video, and installation, this piece involves self-inflicted shots using a device made from a toy gun and a whipped cream dispenser. In this work, my own body and psychological state become essential parts of the newly constructed system.

More recently, I have adopted “reverse engineering” as my main approach. I playfully dismantle, repurpose, and graft digital or non-digital processes to give them new meanings. Through this, I question the values and hierarchies hidden within specific historical and cultural contexts. For instance, in Mimicking Venus (Fig. 02), I modified an 18th-century pointing machine—a tool traditionally used by Neoclassical sculptors—to present a performance, sculpture, and video that breaks down classical iconography. Similarly, in Gray Hive (Fig. 03), which addresses the social phenomenon of “forced leisure” among solitary elderly individuals, I developed a narrative through video and installation that weaves together the ecology of bees with the daily routines of these seniors. 

Are there any particular mediums you prefer working with? Why?

My work spans a wide range of forms and mediums, from performance, video, and sculpture to digital processes like physical computing, generative systems, and 3D printing. Rather than tying myself to a single medium, I freely choose the materials and technologies that best fit the ideas behind each project.

When I use technology, my goal is never “automation” or “efficiency.” Instead, I focus on revealing the hidden, black-boxed processes that modern technology usually covers up. Because of this, my work intentionally avoids the sleek, seamless finish. I prefer to leave the mechanical principles and raw processes visible. For example, in my current exhibition, I created a wallpaper that visualizes raw data gathered from a data mining process (Fig. 04). My aim is to create a small crack in these rigidly structured technological systems—a space where artistic imagination and intervention can step in.

Even though I deal with complex technologies and build invisible systems, I still consider myself a “sculptor” at heart. The physical labor of working with materials and space brings me a deep sense of joy. I am especially drawn to the traditional sculptural technique of casting—creating a master mold to produce multiple copies. The idea that endless variations can come from a single mold or kernel is fascinating to me, whether I look at it philosophically, technologically, or aesthetically. This approach has shaped my previous works and continues to evolve in my latest algorithm-based projects and generative sculptures (Fig. 05).

At the same time, video remains a crucial medium for me. It allows me to share the internal logic and working processes of these systems with the audience. Lately, I have also been exploring the possibilities of 3D animation. For my solo exhibition, I collaborated with a VFX specialist to push my visual experiments even further (Fig. 06). Ultimately, video and 3D animation allow me to break free from the physical limits of time and space that traditional sculpture has, adding an entirely new layer of storytelling to my work.

Do you collaborate with other artists or creators? If so, how has collaboration influenced your work?

In the past, when creating my kinetic installations, I mostly collaborated with engineers. Back then, collaboration simply meant getting technical advice and help with programming or building moving parts. I didn’t want to lose control over the core ideas or the final visual outcome, so I never fully outsourced the work. I intentionally kept the technical scope within boundaries I could handle, ensuring I could modify and control the machines myself later. It was a natural boundary I set to maintain my independence as an artist.

However, working with designers for my recent solo exhibition made me completely rethink what collaboration means. As we tackled specialized areas like data visualization and procedural modeling, my collaborators contributed not just their technical skills, but also their own aesthetic choices deeply into the work. Often, this led to results that neither of us could have predicted. It was a pleasant surprise and a major turning point that made me seriously reflect on the idea of shared, collective authorship in art.

Building on this experience, I want to foster more equal and open-ended collaborations in the future. My next project, which I am currently planning, will rely much more heavily on programming. I am excited to see how exploring new ways of collaborating with experts will become a core driving force behind my upcoming work.

What projects are you currently working on, and what can we expect from you in the future?

Lately, I have been focusing on the theme of “digital labor,” critically exploring how technological infrastructure reshapes human labor and emotions. For instance, in my recent solo exhibition, The Unmined, I looked at how human cognitive labor and attention are mined and consumed as resources in the digital milieu (Fig. 07). This project will be shown to the public again next January at Hyundai Motorstudio Beijing. It will be part of the Hyundai Blue Prize-winning exhibition Ghosts of Extraction, featured alongside works by international media artists. Building on this momentum, I am also taking my algorithm-based generative sculptures to the next level.

What I am particularly interested in is using data-driven and algorithm-based art to make the hidden sides of invisible systems visible, and to explore reflective, alternative possibilities. Data and algorithms—the core materials of modern technology—are never neutral; they hide complex power dynamics beneath the surface. As a creator who relies on this massive technological infrastructure, I know I cannot completely step outside the system. Because of this, I believe my role as a contemporary media artist is to work from within it. I want to ask ethical questions that are often overshadowed by technological hype, creating small cracks in dominant narratives to reveal what lies beneath. Moving forward, I plan to continue developing media art projects that explore and question how invisible technological forces reshape the forms of labor, affects, and value systems.

Text and photo courtesy of Gyung Jin SHIN

Website: https://www.gyungjinshin.com
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