The Unseen and Exploring Fragility: An Interview with Yeseop Yoon


By Adam Rivett

The work of Yeoseop Yoon draws sharp and direct lines of emotion between creator and viewer — an expressway to the skull, to quote Sonic Youth. From his early film work with the fraught and tender Beginners to his recent collaborations with the poet Walter Kadiki, his imagery is emotive, taut and deeply suggestive. This sensibility extends to his photographic work, which both isolates and draws in the figures under his gaze. With all this in my head, I shot Yeoseop a few questions about his work, keen to learn more about his practice, beliefs and the sensibility behind his resonant, lingering imagery.

Adam Rivett: Watching your Flickerfest film, Beginners, was a tender but fraught experience — the film so effectively transports you into a world of uncertainty and tension. It’s such an austere film and so intimate, so unlike the often gimmicky approach people take with the shorter film form. It really feels like a glimpse of a larger world, richly suggestive. How did that film come about, and what still resonates for you in it, not that you have a few years to reflect upon it?

Yeoseop Yoon: It’s a combination of my own story when I first moved to Australia at the age of 16, plus stories I collected from the Korean community. In the migrant community, there tend to be similar stories — adapting to a new home as “beginners”. What resonates for me is the experience of making it. As a filmmaker, I am now more experienced and would certainly do things differently if I were to do it again, but there’s a raw passion I can still recall in the making of it and in my approach as a director. It’s so unrefined and almost too rough but raw and passionate. It’s something you would only do as a “beginner”, I guess.

                          The Beginners (Short) | Watch Here

AR: The two films you’ve made with the poet Walter Kadiki are superb pieces of work — how did that collaboration begin?

YY: My love for poetry and desire to work with someone who struggles with verbal communication. I wanted to explore an idea of expression beyond obvious form. In the course of my research, I found Walter through the online poetry community, and I reached out to him with a treatment. My DP and I flew down to Melbourne and shot over two nights.

AR: I’d like to drill into the two films you made with Walter a little. They’re such exuberant, physical pieces. The decision to not subtitle Walter is interesting — it informs the viewer that gesture and the human face are enough. You often situate Walter in either stark or tender environments, from domestic to industrial. Was it a challenge finding a filmic approach that complimented his aesthetic but also let you extend yourself as an artist?

YY: I avoided written subtitles as I felt the poetry very much existed in the act of Walter signing his poem. His poem was one thing, but I really wanted to amplify the poetry in his performance. The approach was then to position Walter in places where his performance and the emotion from the poem would multiply and propel.

Walter Kadiki | Deaf Poet | Watch Here

AR: Looking at much of your photographic work, particularly your portraiture, I find a similar resonance to the collaborations with Walter — the figures feel slightly isolated, and there’s a residual melancholy there that fights in the f rame with the subject. What do you think defines your approach to that particular form?

YY: I tend to want to see what is hidden rather than what is shown. Framing a thing or a person in a way that elevates its feeling is what I’m most interested in.

AR: I’m also fascinated by some of the short films you made about the inventor and artist Majid Rabet and the short film in support of Kate Mitchell’s Carriageworks show. They’re both gorgeous, evocative pieces that are expressive but also serve someone else’s vision. What’s it like collaborating with these artists, and what’s the most significant challenge in striking a balance between your voice and theirs?

YY: I tried to focus on their story rather than their work. I love finding out why someone is the way they are, and in covering their personal stories, it continually circles back to their work. The challenge is not to make something that is an extension of their work but something that is a thing of its own.

Kate Mitchell | Carriageworks | Watch Here

AR: To return to both your early shorts and the collaborations with Walter — I sense in the work a receptivity to the feeling of vulnerability. That you’re okay with it, so to speak — that you don’t want to crowd it out but are willing to let it in. I always associate that with childhood, and of course, Beginners is very sensitive to the younger daughter’s struggles. In your own youth, how did you get started as a creative person, and is retaining that youthful fragility and worldview important to you?

YY: As mentioned earlier, I’m drawn to what is hidden and not what is shown. And often, that’s vulnerability and fragility, or the kind of pain hidden in our presence. I like presenting and sharing that kind of humanity as I believe vulnerability and pain bring us together more than joy and pleasure.

AR: Speaking of youth and formative influences - are there any contemporary artists you feel currently inspired by or older creators you still return to?

YY: Among contemporary artists, I treasure Michael Haneke and Lee Chang-dong above all. As for the perennials, I’d say Robert Bresson and Johannes Vermeer.

AR: Lastly, the inevitable closing question: what have you got ahead of you for the rest of the year and into 2024?

YY: I’m currently developing a feature film.


All works © Yeoseop Yoon (unless otherwise stated) 
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