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A poet who stares at the sun too long goes blind. Plants bend toward the light, and a world brimming with radiance tilts into the dark. From noon to midnight.

An eighty year old man eats alone and walks alone for twenty years after he served his time in prison. Only his nephew and niece-in-law, ethnic Korean migrants from China, stop by to see him time to time. There are no pictures to look back on, so he writes letters to his deceased wife when he feels lonely and explains why he had to flee to the South leaving behind their 100 day-old baby daughter. The nephew’s wife goes to Pyeongyang to see Ok-hee, the daughter of the old man, and returns while the man wishes to go to the border for one last time. At the border where he could see the North, he has something to say to his only daughter. Would he succeed in going there?

In the heart of bustling Seoul, Korea, small neighborhood playgrounds become a sanctuary for children, adults, and grandparents alike. Squeezing Seoul observes three generations of visitors as they navigate the playground’s swings, slides, and open spaces, reflecting on memories, childhood games, and the simple joys of play. Through candid conversations and intimate b-roll, the documentary explores how these pockets of calm foster community, nostalgia, and connection amidst the city’s relentless pace. With a delicate balance of observation and storytelling, the film celebrates the quiet yet profound importance of public spaces in urban life.

An essay film based on the images and sounds I collected from various places between 2014 and 2017. A woman is looking for the traces of someone she once knew. How can she find absence in the presence and presence in the absence? This film is a musing on time - exploring how the past, present, and future are inextricably and mysteriously connected.

A man's loving memories of tending to his acerbic mother weave together remembrance, routine, and artistry in a lyrical reflection on familial bonds, loss, and generational connections.

I spent my childhood in Gangneung, Gangwon Province—a small city where the shadow of division permeated daily life. Witnessing the armed infiltrator incident in the 1990s taught me the meaning of ‘boundaries’ through lived experience. From that day onward, peace became not merely an ideal, but a ‘question of survival’ for me. Returning to Gangwon Province to seek answers, I began studying the theme of ‘peace’ and embarked on a peace field trip along Germany's former border zones with Professor Lee Dong-ki, a historian and peace scholar. Traversing the German border and Gangwon Province's borders, I began to understand the identity of the region where I lived and the ‘border city’ as a frontier of the Cold War and division. How can we transform it into a ‘space in-between’?

In the deserted village of Haje, a 600-year-old pagoda tree stands as a solitary sentinel. Once a thriving fishing community of over 2,000 residents near the U.S. military base in Gunsan, Haje fell victim to forced relocation and demolition. The Ministry of Defense seized the land due to its proximity to the base's ammunition depot, transforming it into a military zone. If Haje becomes a military base, centuries of history and the village's remnants will vanish. The ancient pagoda tree, deeply rooted and sacred to the village, has long served as a 'microcosm'—a sanctuary for butterflies, insects, birds, and other small creatures. Around this living monument, a group has united to protect the peace and life it symbolizes.

Yang Young-sam, a 77-year-old haenyeo (female freediver) battling dementia, prepares for a final ritual goodbye.

Architects, cultural planners, and public administrators come together to reopen the Gunsan Cultural Center, which had remained abandoned for over a decade after its closure. Is chronic operational deficit an unavoidable fate for public cultural facilities, or can a sustainable revenue model be developed? This film documents the struggle to reinterpret underutilized spaces and uncover new public value in cultural venues of our time.

In Jecheon, South Korea, there's a vocational high school for multicultural youth, where about 70% of students were born overseas. This documentary follows three students—Moses, Yushin, and Shakhzoda—as they navigate life as teenage immigrants in Korea, facing challenges with language, family, and visa status while pursuing their dreams.

In the year 2019, 'I' and my friends have responded to a sexual assault by a professor at an art school, but the #MeToo movement has left us with nothing but scars. I, along with my friends, confront the time we'd rather forget and begin a foolish attempt to glue a broken bowl.

I made a short documentary on my experience of medical abortion in Denmark in 2017. Feeling liberated from that happening, I head to Denmark to conclude this memory. Beneath the dazzling lights of Copenhagen's city, I finally realize, 'This is the beginning of the journey.' I called my ex-partner, wondering if he would welcome me in Portugal. I head to Portugal to meet him with several questions in mind. Has he already forgotten those dim times? Or do those memories still cling to him in the past?

My mother, who cherished me as her late-in-life daughter, passed away from COVID-19. Among her belongings, I discovered a note hinting at adoption, setting me on a journey to uncover the secrets of my birth. Another identity, another name. Surprising revelation of sisters despite being the only daughter. The harsh reality of being abandoned by biological parents just for being born without balls. In an instant, the beliefs I held as 'truth' collapsed like dominoes. I split from my long-time boyfriend and faced gender identity confusion. It hit me hard that my dreams of a conventional family were more hers than mine. In all the chaos, I admitted to myself and fully embraced my identity as a queer. With my non-binary partner, I discovered a newfound sense of love, building a family that feels authentically ours.

Hanchul has been running a small neighborhood supermarket in Hoengseong, Gangwon Province, for decades. Over time, he faces the wear and tear of the store's belongings.

The phenomenally resilient sea women of Marado Island, at the southernmost tip of South Korea, are like no one else on the planet. Six women aged in their 40s, 60s, 80s and 90s have lately been joined by a solitary young male diver, Min-Jong. Most of the women are well beyond 60. They may stumble walking on land, but underwater, they are transformed into graceful swimmers who haul in twice their bodyweight in seafood every day. These are Korea’s traditional Haenyeo: female divers who hold their breath for more than two minutes to depths of up to 20 meters. They make their livelihood combing the seabed for culinary treasures for restaurants in Korea and Japan: kelp, sea cucumbers, conchs, and, most prized of all, abalone.

A short film by Lee Jangwook

There are three main elements in the video: English text, Korean voice-over, and images. The written text is from the example sentences in English dictionaries. I always find those examples fascinating as they display random, surprising and poetic qualities. Their fragmentary aspects also refer to the possibilities of varied narrative context. Subtitles typically function as a translation of the spoken (original) text in films. However, the English text in this piece is the original and the spoken text (voice-over) is a translation. There are two kinds of translations: from one language to another and from written text to spoken text. The B&W images were created as responses to either the English text or Korean text. The three elements had equal weights in terms of creating rhythms in editing process.

This film begins from what is unseen rather than what is seen. The act of connecting fragments is carried out by the audience. Images that were once unrelated become intertwined, and something unfolds in the spaces between them. That which does not flow is dead. Fragment is a collection of images derived from this sentence.

Park Sungeum is an elderly woman who lives in a shabby tile-roofed house. The eaves of her roof are sagging, and the utilities have been cut off. When she is not at home, she goes to a local Senior Citizens Centre. The centre is her shelter when it gets bitterly cold in winter. She usually spends a day, however, by the wooden gate at the entrance of her house. By the gate, there is clutter of clothes, dishes, a table and a plastic bag of miscellaneous items. A cat is also leashed there in the dark, and Sungeum cares for the cat.

What began merely as an entertaining performance, the 'Meryl Streep Project' has transformed into an icon of resistance, exposing the realities of women's rights in South Korea. However, following the COVID-19 pandemic, the project has taken an unexpected turn.

Years after a fire burned down the infamous Moria camp in 2020, the living situation of refugees in Greece is still dire. Noemí, the Spanish photographer, shares the story of the Instagram project Now You See Me Moria, which she initiated with Amir, an Afghan refugee in Moria. Determined to change the often one-dimensional media portrayal of refugees and raise awareness of human rights violations, Now You See Me Moria depicts the daily lives of refugees through their eyes. Volumetric Interviews follows their memories with Noemí and transforms the videos recorded inside the refugee camps into 3D landscapes, bringing Noemí and the interviewer digitally to the camps. Through the inherently limited view resulting from the cameras’ perspective from the original videos, Volumetric Interviews challenges the limitations of information in humanitarian crises.

"Have the right number of children and raise them well." This slogan epitomized an era dominated by fears that rapid population growth would impede economic progress. In 1961, with the launch of the First Five-Year Economic Development Plan, Korea initiated its family planning program as a measure to curb the population explosion. Intertwined with various social ambitions and desires, this initiative was deemed "successful" in reshaping society. Today, as we live with the outcomes of this all-out effort for growth, this film revisits the process of "planning" families to reflect on South Korea's future.​

After a heartbreaking experience at school, a teacher took her own life. Her father, a potter, was devastated and could not fire his kiln for a long time. 15 months after his daughter`s death, he finally fires the kiln again. As he watches the flames, he begins to sing a song in her memory. Through the very personal story of the deceased teacher`s family and an artist, this documentary delves into the challenges of the education system in South Korea and reveals the path to healing.

Ulsan's natural environment, once degraded by industrialization, is now being restored, resulting in the return of animals to the river, including some endangered species. As the wildlife population increases, so does the frequency of incidents involving them, highlighting the importance of reflecting on the meaning of human-animal coexistence. This is the story of the Ulsan Wildlife Rescue and Management Center, which strives to achieve this goal.

The artwork presents three scenes: the Paju factory where the books are made, a French professor reading in a lecture room, and a forest landscape. These images are projected simultaneously on three screens arranged in a triangle, allowing viewers to move around and experience the installation from different angles.

​The 49th Hexagram explores the construction of cultural memory and political narrative surrounding the history of the Korean peninsula. Employing the services of an animation studio in Pyongyang, North Korea, Ho Tzu Nyen’s work reinterprets scenes of political uprising and mass demonstration as depicted in South Korean narrative film and television. The project aims to form a direct relationship between South Korea’s political history and the tensions that still define the country’s relationship with its northern counterpart. The result is, in the artist’s words, a “game of exquisite corpse across geopolitical barriers.” The artist developed the experimental soundtrack in collaboration with Korean artists and musicians Bek Hyunjin, Park Minhee, and Ryu Hankil. Offering two vocal renditions of texts from the forty-ninth hexagram of the I-Ching, an ancient Chinese divination manual, the soundtrack composites historical interpretation with translation to speak of revolution and renewal.

This letter originated in Paris as a means of addressing the issue of ‘everyday racism’ and violence that cannot be replaced by the universal. Its purpose is also to offer a response to my friends who have shared their own experiences of discrimination and violence.

Yoon Han-bong, the last wanted man of the Gwangju May 18 Uprising, fled to the United States. Later, he formed an organization called “Young Korean United (YKU)” with people who gathered to honor the Gwangju May 18 Uprising throughout the country. They went out to the streets playing Pungmul to advocate for the democratization of their motherland. In solidarity with people worldwide, he also managed to organize “The Grand March for International Peace” in 1989 in North Korea.

In the midst of political battles, people sang together, hoping for solidarity and a brighter future. The lyrics and syllables people used to chant always seemed to align with the song's ideals, but in reality, it's heading to a blurry past. The Maeng-Kong's cry, however, is not tied to a specific era that people yearned for. Their song simply echoes as their mating call rather than a political statement. The sound "Maeng-Kong-(Croak- Croak-)" howls; could we imagine a space of struggle and solidarity once more?

After my father's sudden death, I find old photographs while organizing his belongings and visit the houses in the pictures. Through this journey, I bring back the trivial secrets of my family and my forgotten childhood memories. Those memories expand to collective memories of my neighborhood and spaces in Gwangju.

A silly question asked, to the people I met at the small mountain in the neighborhood: "Do you believe in the spirits of the mountain?" The answers revealed different ideas on myths, religion, and the village. Local artists have started performing rituals for the mountain spirit...

When I accidentally found out that my grandmother had two names, Oksoon and Chunja, I was fascinated by the countless stories she told me. The distant and the not-so-distant stories, were sometimes trivial, sometimes overwhelming. During the filming, meeting Chunja, whom I had not known, and Oksoon, my maternal grandmother, repeated. I recorded the daily labor of Oksoon, who had lived as a woman and an ordinary citizen through the Japanese colonial days.

On weekdays at 8am, Solidarity Against Disability Discrimination (SADD) protests at the subway platforms in Seoul. The protest demands policy and budget for disabled people living in the community. SADD’s year-long subway action, which began in December 2021, delays subway trains during rush hour, greets incoming trains at the platform, to call out to the public. On a busy commute, on a subway that doesn't move, some are silent, some cheer, and some swear. SADD claims, "We want to move around together, to be educated together, to work together, and to live in the community together." Their repeated protests and actions on subway platforms have started to draw reaction from the government, the politicians, the media, and the citizens.

Bottoms Up! is a little anomaly in the field of Korean documentary films, which tend to lean toward grander themes. After watching this film, which captures moments of bar talk, you will be wondering whether the scenes are real or directed.

A short film by Rhee Hun

​The once-misfit percussion team Tago is headed to the Netherlands for their first solo tour, but tickets aren't selling like they should. Tickets aren't selling, and the audience isn't exactly thrilled. Mistakes abound and their bodies don't listen. Will this group of imperfect people ever be able to knock on the door of a bigger stage?

​The piano arrived in Korea in 1900, about 200 years after its invention. The first people who saw the piano people who first saw the piano were said to have heard an unintelligible sound coming from inside the barrel and called it 'ghost barrel'. 'Ghost Barrel' is a music documentary that retraces the footsteps of the piano in Korea over the past 120 years. The journey 'Ghost Tong' follows pianists Won Jae-yeon and Kim Jae-won, musicologist Heo Ji-yeon, piano tuner Yang Hyung-joo, carrier Cho Hyung-chun, Kim Ki-seon, and Kim Sung-jong, a piano tuner, repairer, and distributor. past, present, and future of the piano.

The film was made for my grandmother, who was Love for me. Love is a very important value in our life. It will remind value of love in our society.

Jung Ei-jin (79), the last transferee of the four Gukchang families, is looking for a transferee of the Dongpyeonje "Sugungga". Jung Ei-jin has many disciples, but everyone is unsuitable as a transferee due to circumstances. Jung Ei-jin is suffering because he can't find a successor as he ages. Students who continue their dreams narrowly between art and livelihood say they are happy when they sing.

When Paldang Dam was built, many farmers lost their farms. Instead, they started organic farming in their land around Han River. In 2008, Korean government announced four River Plans including Paldang. The plan in Paldang organic town is to build bike lanes and a public park instead of farms. It causes serious conflicts among the farmers as they decide if they should fight against the government.

"We dream of a world where we can find our own way." If a woman removes the option of 'marriage' from her life, even those who see her for the first time predict her miserable future. The old belief that a woman's life has a happy ending only when she ends up as a 'wife' or 'mother' is still alive in 2020. Now in 2020, many women are throwing away old customs and flying into their own world. This documentary sheds light on the stories of women who are walking the path of singleness over time. Through this documentary, I hope that the freedom is expanded into two options, and thus make women's daily lives more diverse and free.

The life of Mi-sun, an elementary school lunch cook, is somewhat similar to that of her mother. The story of Mi-sun, who is someone's daughter, wife, mother, and friend who has been called a 'feeding lady' after college, when she dreamed of becoming a teacher.

The naval base has been constructed in Gang-Jeong village. The Village seems troubled as it's always been for years due to coexidence of two different forms of peace. Can Gang-Jeong maintain its peace with the opposing believes peace clashing unceasingly?

Hyun-jung lives with her friend named J who has both male and female’s sexual organs. She gets deeply involved in J’s life and conflicts break out. The film starts off as Hyun Jung’s raw curiosity about androgyny, but it leads to a subtle psychological drama. This film offers a chance to consider relationships between a person who lives in normal life and who wants to live a normal life.

Four musicians will be asked to be the protagonist of a new documentary film, Jung Hoon, who was producing live music contents one day. They get involved in making movies without thinking about it.

In the warehouse of the Korea Democracy Foundation, a bundle of mysterious old roll films written "Film damaged by the flood" is found. In attempts of restoring it, they visit the groups of photographers who recorded the field at the time and try following the traces of the roll film. However, as that world is restored and damaged photos are brought back, deleted worlds are discovered. The world of the many workers who fought to prevent the hell created by the protagonists of the democratization movement after they became president. In the midst of the alternateness, the landscape is gradually revealed.