An interview with white porcelain artist Kim Sang-in

From the infinite colors that exist
Find your ideal snow white

MIN GALLERY will hold the first solo exhibition in Japan of Korean white porcelain artist Kim Sang-in from July 18th to 27th, 2025.

White porcelain has been loved by people for centuries. After being introduced to Europe, it became the catalyst for the birth of bone china, and after being introduced to Japan during the Edo period, it became the origin of Imari ware and Arita ware, and was beloved by many tea masters and art collectors. But what about Korea, the country that nurtured "Yi Dynasty white porcelain"?

There is a new white porcelain movement in Korea right now that is captivating modern people. One of the key figures in this movement is Kim Sang-in. A representative white porcelain artist of the next generation, his work is characterized by a rich range of expressions that combine a modern impression with a profound gentleness.

Recently, it has become common to see Kim's white pottery dominating the pages of media featuring Korean arts and crafts. To find out more about this acclaimed artist, we visited his Korean studio, "Heiinyo."

Kim Sang-in's studio, "Saengin Kiln," is located in Anseong, about a two-hour drive from Seoul, South Korea. In a building that stands alone in the middle of a rural area, Kim finds comfort and lives his life by immersing himself in the silent work of pottery making.

White porcelain has changed shape through love

When I interviewed Kim Sang-in, I tried to gather basic information about the author, as is the norm for an interviewer, but I was unable to find much information about him, despite him being a popular author with so many credits. Not even a photo of his face, nor his place of birth, age, or career history. I was able to find only the name of the school he went to and the impressive list of awards he has received, and my imagination and expectations about what kind of person he is grew even more.

As a form of preparation, I researched what Joseon (Korean) white porcelain was, and found an overwhelming amount of information. It made me realize once again that there are few pottery pieces that are so deeply and widely integrated into our daily lives.

There are various theories about when white porcelain first came into being, but there is no doubt that it originated in China and then made its way up the peninsula to Japan. In Japan, it was introduced to Kyushu during the Edo period, where it built the foundations for Arita ware and Imari ware. It also spread westward to Europe, where it is well known that it evolved into bone china. What can be said in general is that it has been passed down continuously for centuries, and continues to fascinate people even today.

In modern-day Korea, at the end of this eternal flow, Kim Sang-in continues to create everything from everyday tableware that you would want to use at home on the dinner table to large works that you would want to admire in a surreal space like a museum, all in a soft white color called "solbaek" (snow white).

A noble form and practicality loved by chefs

A number of unfired pieces waiting to be glazed in the atelier. These are unglazed pieces, but the matte surface already exudes a quiet dignity. One of Kim's characteristics is that the form of his pieces evokes the elegance of the Joseon Dynasty.

It was hard to find information about white porcelain artist Kim Sang-in, but little by little I found little fragments of information. It was an explanation of an art exhibition held in Seoul, and a comment from a gallery owner who is an enthusiast of his work. What particularly caught my attention was the story that Kim has a policy of "emphasizing function over decoration, and thinking about the scene of serving food in terms of the space," and that this is why he is enthusiastically supported by professional chefs. I also learned that the unique color of his porcelain, which has a soft glow and a slight bluish tint, is called "snow white," and that it fascinates the hearts of collectors.

Kim's studio, "Saengin Kiln," which brings to mind the appearance of a monk or a philosopher, is located in a rural area, a two-hour drive from Seoul, and we finally arrived after a tumultuous journey along an unpaved path that resembled a rice paddy.

A shy author quietly begins to tell his story

The atelier was packed with unfired bisque pottery, and many basins and buckets lined up. Kim's fingers showed me the fine white clay that is the base of the glaze. Even though he was just twisting the clay casually, his presence was gentle.

When I met Kim Sang-in for the first time, he was a tall man with a gentle smile that made me feel like a student, in stark contrast to the stoic and solid impression his works give off. His sweatshirt and trousers were stained with white dirt in places and looked worn. Although he looked shy, he said, "Thank you for coming all the way," and treated me to traditional Korean rice cakes, a mountain of strawberries, and hot tea.

"I'm amazed that you came all the way out here and people sometimes ask me why I opened a kiln here, but if you come and visit you'll understand that it's cheap despite the large amount of land. Even though it's all called white porcelain, each person has their own production style. I do everything myself, from making the clay to shaping, glazing, firing, and finishing, and sometimes painting. You need a large space to make the clay, a place to dry the shaped and glazed pieces, and even a warehouse to store the finished pieces. So, to make white porcelain, you need a large space." (Kim)

Kim spoke for a bit, then hesitated, searching for the right words, and apologized, "I'm sorry, I'm not used to interviews." Rather than being "shy," he seemed to convey a stoic determination not to express himself to the public unless it was the form and words he was currently seeking, in keeping with the image of his work.

The difficult path to becoming an author

Leaving the kiln and looking around, the silhouettes of the trees were projecting beautiful designs against the pastel-colored evening sky. It was similar to Japan, but there was something decidedly different about it.

One would think that Kim had been creating beautiful white porcelain pieces with a calm and collected attitude, but the more I listen to her story, the more I realize that her life as an artist has been full of hardships. I don't sense any of that hardship in her expression as she talks calmly, but it seems that before her late success in her late 30s, she had a long journey where she couldn't fully believe in herself.

"In high school, I vaguely wanted to work in design, but at the same time, my family circumstances made it difficult to make a living. But there was a pottery studio, or should I say a workshop, in my neighborhood. I started going there to try my hand at pottery, and the students there would give me snacks and light meals, knowing that I was growing up to eat a lot. I was in my mid-teens at the time, so I felt comfortable there and started going there often. Then someone complimented my pottery skills. It was the first time I'd ever been complimented by someone else, and from then on I was hooked." (Kim)

I think the saying "If you love something, you will be good at it" is the same in every country. Having found a way to make a living in pottery, the young Kim entered the Graduate School of Design with the encouragement of his senior and majored in pottery. After graduating, he had a chance to study under Lee Ji-ho, who was a prominent master of white porcelain from the Yi Dynasty. During his time at graduate school, Kim created large objects and items other than white porcelain, but this encounter was the catalyst that led to his current career.

Kim's training under Lee lasted for a whopping 12 years. Considering that he lived there as a student, it seems like a very close relationship between teacher and student, but he didn't resist his instinct as an artist to try to create his own worldview, and decided that the time was right to go out on his own and set out on his own.

What will you create in the last moments of your life?

Recently, he has begun to try his hand at applying blue and white porcelain to his wares. He also continues to experiment with subtle changes to form and design, as if he is enjoying them.

"The truth is, when I was making pieces under my master, I was able to work very freely with both materials and form. But when I quit and started working alone, I didn't know what to do or how to do it. Naturally, my income was zero, so I had to make something to survive. I had trained for so long, but now I don't even know what to make... I was at my wit's end." (Kim)

The time he spent worrying passed in the blink of an eye, and before he knew it, three years had passed. He began making everyday items such as mugs and pastry stands, feeling his way around. He made an effort to visit markets to find out what was selling and what people wanted. As a result, he decided to focus on redesigning the "taste of ancient Yi Dynasty white porcelain," a style that not many young artists were working on at the time, to suit the modern dining table.

It's been about 15 years since Kim found her path. She has won many awards and her work is getting more and more praised every day. But there are also many simple pieces that make you think, "I want to use this on the dinner table right now." On the other hand, there are also pieces that have an overwhelming presence that pierces your heart the moment you see them. When you compare her past and present works, the viewer may not think that there is such a drastic difference, but Kim says something surprising: "They are constantly changing, and sometimes I feel embarrassed when I look at my old works."

"I don't mean it in a bad way. If I feel embarrassed when I look at my old works, that's a good thing. Because it's proof that I'm growing, isn't it? My life has been a series of setbacks and doubts. And my way of thinking changes with age. I have been given the treasure of 'white porcelain', which I can bet my life on, but I am also constantly struggling within it. That's my life. But that's okay. I hope that one day, when I leave this world, I will have completed a work that makes me think, 'Ah, I made the best thing!'" (Kim)

What's important is color: various types of white and the ideal white

The kiln where glazed pieces are fired. Pieces of various sizes are lined up here. If they were all the same size, the hot air would not flow through the kiln, causing uneven firing. The only way to know how to line up the different sizes of pieces is through experience.

Kim's past struggles with what to make seem like a lie, as she now produces a variety of pieces one after another without any signs of hesitation. From small objects to large works, she creates everything with her supple hands every day. Meanwhile, a new presence and challenge that fascinates Kim is color. When I asked her, "If it's called white porcelain, it has to be white, right?" she laughed quietly and shook her head.

"People say 'white' easily, but to me, this color can't even be described in one word. There are so many whites. The white I want to create is snow white. A white like snow with a slight bluish tinge. It would be great if I could create a white that is not light, but has a bit of weight to it. I think that someday, before I die, I will have perfected my ideal white." (Kim)

Kim is indeed a stoic person. I remember one scene in which he spoke gently, but when the topic turned to form and color, his face changed to that of the artist Kim Sang-in. This summer, the finest whites that he exudes today will be on display at "MIN GALLERY." Please come and experience the rich world of colorful white porcelain.

Kim's pottery is becoming more and more pared down and simple with every passing year. The sake cups, which come in a variety of sizes, have the character "happiness" (fuku) written in meticulous handwriting on the bottom, as if expressing a wish.

Text by Mayuko Yamaguchi
Interpreter: Ryu Lia