Michael Hong

• October 3 - 31, 2024
• Opening: Thursday, October 3, 6:00 — 8:00pm

Oi-ee Moo-chim examines the intimate, tactile connections that define the culinary and cultural landscapes of the immigrant experience through the Korean concept of 손맛 (sonmat), meaning “hand-flavor.” Extending beyond mere touch, this notion embodies an indescribable essence passed down through generations, often along maternal lines. It is a flavor imbued with a history and emotion that transforms simple ingredients into deeply personal expressions. Oi-ee Moo-chim refers to a common Korean side dish of thinly sliced cucumbers massaged in a chili-vinegar paste—a simple yet profoundly variable dish that tastes different in every household, shaped by the hands that prepare it.

Michael Hong showcases two bodies of work that manifest his hand-flavor through the repetition of ceramic forms: a number of abstract “self-portraits” that stand six-feet tall—Hong’s height; and a series of pots that reference traditional Korean fermentation vessels known as hangari, reimagining familiar Korean household staples and rituals through the lens of his experiences growing up in Koreatown, Los Angeles.

Hong’s ceramics embody the complex relationship between acts of labor as a survival mechanism and coping, as observed through his mother. For him, hand-flavor is both a methodology and a site of contemplation, where the physical and the cultural intertwine to depict the complex dynamics of identity, labor, and heritage.

About the Artist

Michael Hong moved with his family to the U.S. from South Korea in 2004, settling in Koreatown, Los Angeles. In 2022, he moved to Seattle to complete his MFA in 3D4M from the University of Washington. He offers this glimpse into his family and their mixed culture:

“My name, Michael, can be traced back to the backseat of the car on the way back from the grocery store with my cousins who suggested my brothers and I adopt English names to fit in better. With no particular rhyme or reason, I was Michael, and my brothers took on the names Jason and Austin.

My mother chose the name Heather because it shares the same beginning sound as her Korean name, Hye Dok). She always told us we had to go to college, but with a scholarship as she could not afford multiple college tuitions. She made us solve workbooks for an hour a day every summer until middle school. She is an excellent cook who often makes stir fried anchovies because it is good for strengthening eyesight. She is also a piano teacher, who shares her talents by playing piano at church. She fears for the unknown and would frequently say ‘change isn’t always great’ as we drove 30 miles to church in the trusty family Corolla every Sunday.”