▶ Interview
Junggoo Cho, CEO at Guga Urban Architecture (Class of 1986, Department of Architecture)
Architecture is the art of creating spaces intimately connected to life, shaping the landscapes of our existence. Beyond serving as a form of contemplative art, the challenge lies in how it can coexist seamlessly with our daily lives. Architect Joonggu Cho explores the theme of ‘universal architecture close to our lives,’ seeking answers in the process.
Architect Junggoo Cho explores Seoul once per week. This field trip, which usually occurs on Wednesdays, is called the “Wednesday field trip.” Conventionally, a field trip
involves an intensive investigation into a specific object or area, on-site, under a certain theme; his field trips, however, have a certain uniqueness. After completing work
in one place, the trip leads him to an immediately neighboring place, dubbed a “continual field trip”. The Wednesday field trip, which began by exploring the topography of
Seoul through careful examination of the streets of Jongno and Cheonggyecheon, has continued for 20 or more years, accompanied by a detailed survey of every corner of numerous
neighborhoods in Seoul, including Huam-dong, Haebangchon, and Gyonam-dong and the activity has substantially enhanced his experiences and insights as an architect. Moreover,
this practice allows him to maintain his view on architecture, which he pledged when he founded the Guga Urban Architecture in 2000.
“While taking a walk around Bukahyeon-dong long ago, I coincidentally encountered a magpie nest. As I was moving down the road, I saw elderly people resting under the
embankment. At that moment, I suddenly realized that humans also inhabit the environment.”
Ever since that moment, this activity has motivated me to delve into what form architecture close to our lives should take. Thus, the houses nearby attracted my attention and
the Wednesday field trip evolved into a communication with the lives of various urban subjects as they live in this space.
Although a modern architect, he has often designed hanok. His designs encompass “Gyeongju Ragung Hotel,” the first hanok hotel, as well as ‘Naglagheon’ a
hanok village in
Eunpyeong-gu, Seoul. For Jung, as a modern architect, hanok is a topic of major interest, rather than a reproduction of the past.
“A regeneration project for Bukchon hanok Village, initiated by the Seoul Metropolitan Government in 2001 represented serendipity in allowing me to engage in
hanok design.
Although it may be equally called hanok, my starting point was an urban hanok, rather than a traditional hanok. You could call it ‘a hanok in the
city’.”
He declares that “An architect is a person who inserts buildings between times.” Without considering the continuity of time, it will not blend into the landscape, no matter how
splendid the design. Thus, I considered the historical context in constructing hanok in Bukchon and Seochon, and I further intended to present the ideal of a modern
hanok as a
mainstream mode of our time in the newly established Eunpyeong hanok Village. The process of transforming old hanok into a living space that blends with our daily
lives reveals
the essence of architecture once again.
“The buildings that have been acclaimed among my works have one thing in common: their owners are respectable. In a sense, I implement within several years the philosophy and
concept that the owner has retained for past 10 to 20 years. In this respect, architecture is further connected to the pursuit of ‘what type of life to live.’”
I showcased the hanok pavilion named “Build” at the Seoul Biennale of Architecture and Urbanism last autumn. The pavilion, located on the western side of Yeolrin
Songhyeon, is
designed to summon the sense of home that is located deep in our consciousness, and retrieve memories regarding the prototype of that home. Without a detailed description of
the space, people instinctively searched for the essence of the work while exploring the space.
“‘Build’ was a work in which I engaged as an artist rather than an architect. In a sense, it was an experience where I was able to translate the prototype that I was eager to
pursue as an architect into reality. Despite some components requiring additional description during the design process, some elements speak to people as their existence.
During the construction, I concurrently placed the old system of gudeul (heating system) with the installation of a water catch basin for drainage. After the opening, I
saw a
visitor lie down on that spot. Just as I hoped—that this space would connect people with the sky—the viewers instinctively realized the essence of that space.”
The artworks that architect Cho conceives are “everything that expands our consciousness.” Seemingly useless arts at first glance later allow people to discover beauty and
reach deeper thoughts. Architecture, which is deemed as the crystallization of artistic convergence, also serves this role.
“Architecture can be said to be a genre of coexisting arts that is closer to life than most of the other arts. I would often realize the providence of nature as I observed the
sunlight pouring into my yard move along the course of time, which may be a type of evocation furnished by the arts.”
The arts nowadays tend to trigger thoughts on the “usefulness of useless things.” As shown in Korean classical architecture, the intangible values arising from appropriate
elements in perfect harmony become more priceless. Thus, I hope that future art will become “art that coexists with life,” and I look forward to seeing more people fill their
lives with uniquely “good things.”
