Fakewhale in Dialogue with Caption, Seoul
The contemporary Korean art scene is undergoing a profound transformation, and Caption Seoul has emerged as one of its most distinctive, fluid, and radically hybrid spaces. Born from a simple need for experimentation, it has evolved into a platform that bridges emerging artistic practices, design, and publishing, while continuously reflecting on the complex relationship between the art market and artistic language. At Fakewhale, we had the pleasure of exploring with them how to build a boundaryless curatorial vision in an era where access and cultural mediation are more crucial than ever.
Fakewhale: What motivated you to found Caption Seoul? After opening and over time, has your vision changed in any way?
Caption: We run both an art agency and a design studio, and have long been interested in practices centered around space. Caption Seoul began from a simple desire to create a place where we could freely experiment with things that intrigued us. As we were setting up our office, it naturally evolved into a space that could also accommodate exhibitions. In the beginning, our focus was not on commercial activity but on exhibitions and projects that genuinely sparked our curiosity.
After about a year of working in this way, we began asking ourselves, “Are we a gallery?” and eventually decided to define the space as one earlier this year. Since then, we have started participating more actively in the traditional art market, including art fairs.
This decision was shaped by the structural characteristics of the Korean art scene. While this may also be true elsewhere, in Korea the line between the commercial and non-commercial spheres tends to be particularly clear, and the term “gallery” is often equated with commerciality. However, as we continued operating, we began to question why one must choose between the two. Through many internal discussions, we have sought ways to present both directions simultaneously and are continuing to search for a balance between them.
The name “Caption” evokes the idea of a text accompanying or explaining an image. How is this concept reflected in the gallery’s programming and your curatorial approach?
We see “Caption” as a means of support for artworks, a channel that connects artists and audiences. Its role becomes even more important for those who may find art unfamiliar or distant.
Of course, text can sometimes over-explain or confine an artwork, but we wanted to find a balance. We see our role as helping audiences understand the artist’s intent or the context of the work in a natural way, while also guiding them to sense and experience what may not be immediately clear.
That is why we named the space “Caption.” For each exhibition, we prepare separate artist interviews or personally explain the exhibition to visitors. Unless an artist deliberately wishes to withhold information, we do our best to convey the meaning and sensibility of the work as clearly as possible. Perhaps because of this, visitors often mistake us for the artists themselves or for docents.
Caption Seoul defines itself as “an experimental space that does not draw boundaries between genres or media.”
How does this openness make the space distinctive? What values or messages does Caption Seoul seek to embody through its practice?
People often say to us, “You really do everything here.”
It’s something we’ve come to hear quite frequently. Because we work across a range of media and curate in ways that diverge from the conventional gallery model, such comments make sense. We believe our openness naturally extends to the artists we collaborate with — Caption Seoul has come to be seen as a space where new ideas can take shape freely, where artists can finally try what they’ve long imagined.
During meetings, artists often admit, “I thought you’d reject this idea.” But unless something is truly unfeasible, we try to honor the artist’s vision. For those who seek active dialogue, we engage closely, exchanging feedback and building the work together. For others who prefer autonomy, we give space. Each exhibition grows from a different rhythm of collaboration, a shifting conversation between us and the artist.
Caption Seoul, then, is less a fixed venue than an organic site that transforms with each presentation. Every show alters the atmosphere so completely that even we’re sometimes surprised. We see this constant transformation as one of the space’s greatest strengths — each shift offers visitors a renewed encounter. Rather than adhering to a single image or format, we aim for every exhibition to leave a distinct impression.
In an era when images are consumed endlessly online, bringing audiences into a physical space feels increasingly significant — and demanding. We feel a certain responsibility toward those who take the time to come. The most important thing is to create an experience that makes visitors think, “I’m glad I came; it was worth being here.” When planning exhibitions, we always return to balance: how to maintain our curatorial voice while fostering a space where everyone can connect, enjoy, and reflect together. That balance remains at the heart of what we do.
How do you maintain an innovative vision in an art market that sometimes favors more conventional works? How does Caption Seoul promote a variety of artistic forms and ideas?
From a market perspective, maintaining an innovative vision is never easy. We understand why the art market moves in certain ways, and especially in difficult times like these, both galleries and collectors naturally tend to become more cautious. Still, we believe the structure should evolve to embrace a broader range of ideas and media, and we can already sense small but meaningful changes taking place.
At Caption Seoul, we focus less on form and more on what we call the essential sensibility of art. Whether it is visual or conceptual, personal or social, what matters most is the ability to communicate artistic value and conviction. For us, it is important to be clear about what feels right and to translate that feeling into something audiences can sense and believe in. Refining that sensitivity, making it sharper and more precise, is also a key part of our work.
The art market inevitably operates within a commercial framework, and even outstanding works may struggle to reach people if they are not properly communicated. We are still learning, but we continue to experiment in order to bridge that gap. For example, we once sold a performance piece connected to an installation. In Korea, the idea of buying a performance is still quite unfamiliar, yet we reinterpreted the act by translating the momentary gesture into another form through the objects and traces used during the performance, and then proposing it as a new kind of work.
We have no intention of excluding traditional formats. In fact, we believe that the possibilities of art expand when conventional forms and new ideas coexist. Caption Seoul aims to remain a space where diverse sensibilities and experiments can live side by side, continually opening new directions for both artists and audiences.
Contemporary art is constantly evolving. What recent changes do you consider the most significant, and how do they influence your curatorial decisions?
We mainly work with emerging artists within the contemporary art scene. With the growth of the internet and various forms of media, it feels as though the entire world now exists within one open environment, constantly exchanging influences and changing at great speed. Today, when a new movement or idea appears, it often expands beyond its local context and becomes a global trend almost instantly.
While we do curate exhibitions and artists that reflect this sense of contemporaneity, we also try not to be entirely guided by it. What matters more than temporary trends is the inner strength that comes from deeply personal work. We believe that the projects which endure are those rooted in the artist’s own thoughts and sensibilities, rather than exhibitions created simply for the sake of showing.
Caption Seoul positions itself as a space that promotes communication between creators and the public. What kinds of collaborations have you carried out so far, and how have those experiences influenced the way you operate?
Beyond exhibitions, Caption Seoul has engaged in a wide range of collaborations. For our opening event, instead of presenting a show, we collaborated with creative groups such as universal design, ceramics, furniture, print works, and art books — all areas we had been deeply interested in. We also hosted a listening session for the alternative artist omm.., celebrating the release of their album through vintage audio systems and cassette tapes from the 1980s and 1990s.
At the moment, we are preparing another collaboration for an upcoming Caption Seoul archive book to be published next year. We do not believe we have to remain strictly within the boundaries of the art scene. The expansion of art, in our view, becomes possible through broader and more imaginative forms of collaboration. If there is someone who can realize what we envision even better than we can, we are always open and ready to work together.
The gallery positions itself as a space to collect ideas and perspectives from contemporary artists. How do you maintain artistic integrity in an era where the market is increasingly driven by speculation?
We are still only in our second year, gradually building our own perspective. I believe next year will be the time when we begin to engage more fully with the market. Of course, it is important to present ourselves and form good relationships within it, but we want to define our position on our own terms.
Because the way we work is still relatively unfamiliar in the market, it may sometimes feel new or even unconventional. Yet we want to keep pushing forward and shaping our direction through that process. To shine briefly and disappear is easy; sustaining something over time is far more difficult, and we believe that is where true value lies.
To preserve artistic integrity, it is crucial to survive in our own way. This is not simply about endurance, but about finding ways to build a sustainable structure that aligns with what we believe in and the way we want to continue.
What was the last exhibition project you realized, and what are your expectations for the next one?
Our exhibition program continues through the end of this year. The current show is a participatory sound-based project by artist Shin Seungjae, focusing on the materiality of sound. The artist presents works developed during his residency at the Elektronmusikstudion (EMS), the Swedish National Institute for Electroacoustic Music. Inside the gallery, a sound structure is installed, where the performer’s strikes, along with the audience’s breathing and movement, weave together to create the flow of sound. Visitors record these sounds onto sound discs, becoming newly aware of their own physical and sensory presence in the interval between the emergence and disappearance of sound.
Following this, we will present Joohong Kang’s exhibition, which translates the comparison between library classification systems and museum operations into painting. Another upcoming show will feature Yezoi Hwang, whose photographic works explore autobiographical and feminine heritage through the medium of soup, a form of fluid sustenance.
Next year, our goal is to engage more actively with the market. We plan to expand our participation in art fairs and publish the Caption Seoul Archive Book, which will document our exhibitions from 2025 and serve as the basis for a related exhibition. We are already in conversation with the artists who will be part of next year’s program, and we feel genuinely excited about what lies ahead.
Which artistic project or collaboration has challenged you the most so far? What did you learn from that experience?
One of the most memorable exhibitions for us was «Hovering Duration» by artist Yoonjae Lee, presented last summer. It was perhaps the most challenging project for both the artist and for us. When we first discussed the idea, the artist admitted he was worried we might reject it. But the moment we heard it, we said, “This is brilliant, let’s do it.”
The exhibition became known as the so-called “show of nothing.” The entire floor was covered with white vinyl, and the space was left completely blank and white. As visitors walked through the long empty room and entered a smaller chamber, they found only a single cabinet and a UV lamp. There was no text, no wall statement, no introduction. In fact, the exhibition was completed through a hidden layer of text that the artist had silk-screened directly onto the walls using transparent UV ink. The words appeared only when illuminated by the lamp, and under natural light, they were visible as barely perceptible traces. The texts themselves were elusive — sometimes resembling fragments of imagined exhibition reviews, at other times teasing the viewer with their ambiguity.
The audience reactions were extreme. Some left the space thinking the installation had not yet been completed, while others posted online that there was “nothing to see.” Yet the work was, in essence, an experiment about seeing itself — a show completed differently by each viewer’s perception and attitude. Because the artist wanted to minimize the amount of information provided, we had to carefully decide how much to reveal during the promotion process. Ironically, in a space called Caption Seoul, it was an exhibition without any captions at all. We were concerned it might feel unkind or opaque, but together with the artist we managed to maintain a delicate balance between restraint and immersion.
Ultimately, the exhibition was an inquiry into the very act of looking. Yoonjae Lee transformed seeing — the foundation of visual art — into a selective gesture, allowing each visitor to construct a unique visual experience. The work posed a simple yet fundamental question: Why must visual art be seen in a certain way? By leaving this question suspended within the space, the artist invited viewers to become aware of their own act of looking.
Instead of a curatorial text, the artist collected multiple visitor reviews, compiling them into a small thermal-paper book. Over time, the printed text fades, eventually disappearing completely. It was a perfect conclusion to the exhibition’s concept — an object that literally embodied disappearance.
Through this project, we were reminded that even within uncertainty, the essence of art is always completed through the viewer’s experience. That moment when a visitor moves from surprise and confusion to discovery is exactly the kind of encounter we hope to continue fostering at Caption Seoul.
What are your long-term goals for Caption Seoul in relation to the contemporary art system?
We hope Caption Seoul continues to be a place where artists can freely experiment with their ideas and methodologies within the contemporary art system. More than simply offering space for experimentation, we want those experiments to resonate with people and hold meaning and value.
Structurally, we aim to serve as a bridge between the commercial and non-commercial spheres. We are still often asked, “Are you a gallery or an alternative space?” Of course, that question partly stems from the way we curate, but it also reflects how the art ecosystem still operates within a binary framework. Our goal is to soften that boundary and create a space where different territories can naturally intersect.
On a personal level, we hope Caption Seoul becomes a place where people can express and share the ideas they genuinely want to explore and reveal. We believe that within those free and honest attempts, new languages for contemporary art will continue to emerge.
Your gallery explores multiple artistic contexts. To what extent are you also involved in publishing editions or art books? What role do these projects play in promoting the artists you represent?
Alongside running our design studio, we also collaborate with artists, museums, and galleries to produce art books. Since launching Caption Seoul’s first archive book project last year, we have continued to develop our own independent publishing initiatives.
The first Archive Book documents all exhibitions held from our opening in November 2023 through 2024, featuring nine exhibitions and sixteen artists. We plan to publish it annually as a way to reflect on each year’s program, preserving the fleeting moments that disappear once an exhibition ends while continuing to highlight the creative worlds of the artists who have worked with Caption Seoul.
We also organized an accompanying exhibition for the release, setting few restrictions other than scale. This allowed recent works, exhibition materials, and catalogues to come together in one space, creating an opportunity to trace the artists’ development since their shows. Rather than viewing each exhibition as a one-time event, we value long-term partnerships built on ongoing dialogue and shared growth.
The archive book functions not only as a reflection of the space’s identity but also as a platform to introduce and expand the visibility of the artists we work with. Many visitors have responded by saying, “I didn’t know these artists before,” or “This feels new.”
Early next year, we will present our second Archive Book along with a related exhibition, featuring the program from 2025. We are also expanding distribution so that the books will be available both in Korea and abroad. Publishing a book every year as a small gallery is not easy, but we continue to do so with the hope that the artists who have worked with us can reach wider audiences and continue to grow.
fakewhale
Founded in 2021, Fakewhale advocates the digital art market's evolution. Viewing NFT technology as a container for art, and leveraging the expansive scope of digital culture, Fakewhale strives to shape a new ecosystem in which art and technology become the starting point, rather than the final destination.
You may also like
Therese Bülow, Swing Pattern Gone at Matteo Cantarella, Copenhagen
Swing Pattern Gone by Therese Bülow at Matteo Cantarella, Copenhagen, 14.02.2025 – 29.03.2025
The Economy of Absence: Scarcity and Value in Contemporary Art
We live immersed in an unprecedented proliferation of images. Every day, millions of representations
Michael E. Smith at Crèvecœur: The Ghost of Objects
We don’t know who first said, “Objects don’t die; they transform.” It almost sounds like a p
