Interview:Sally J. Han_English edition
- May 12
- 6 min read

_Thank you very much for taking the time for this interview. To begin, could you please introduce yourself and tell us a bit about your background and upbringing?
Hi, my name is Sally J. Han, and I’m a painter. I was born into an ethnic Korean (Joseonjok) family in China and spent my early years between China and South Korea. I moved to the United States when I was in high school, since then I live and work in New York City.
_You are originally from Asia and have been based in New York for quite some time. How has this movement between places shaped your perspective and your work?
When I was a kid, I didn’t know much about history or politics, so I wasn’t fully aware of what it meant for me and my family to be Joseonjok. As I grew older, I began to question whether I was Chinese or Korean, and why choosing one identity seemed to make navigating social life easier.
Later, after moving to the United States, I experienced life again as an Asian immigrant. Meeting people from diverse culture backgrounds and other immigrant communities gradually broadened my perspective.
I came to understand that having a multicultural background is not a weakness, but a strength.
I can’t say with certainty how directly these experiences influence my work, but I do feel that the more I embrace what I once considered a flaw, the more confidence begins to show in my paintings.

_When did you first start drawing or painting? Do you remember what initially drew you to it?
I don’t remember exactly when I started drawing, but I’ve always been someone who drew. My mother still keeps a portrait I made of her when I was about four or five years old, so I think I must have started at least that early. I loved doodling, imagining scenes, drawing comics - anything I wanted, I would draw.
I’ve always felt more comfortable communicating through images than through words. I learned Korean first, then Chinese, and then English, so during school, when it was difficult to communicate or make new friends, I often used drawing to break the initial awkwardness. Drawing naturally became a kind of language of my own.
_What has been the driving force that has kept you drawing and painting up to this day? Were there any particularly memorable experiences or moments connected to that?
Honestly I don’t think I’m particularly good at anything other than making art, and I enjoy the process of creating. More broadly, I’m drawn to making things with my hands. The process is always accompanied by challenges, but sometimes what feels like the worst part can become the best part. Overcoming those moments brings a strong sense of fulfillment, along with opportunities for self-reflection that feel very meaningful to me. That’s what keeps me making.
In everyday life, we’re often expected to choose between yes or no, but in the world of art making, there are no fixed answers. I really value that sense of freedom when I paint.
_Were there any artists, writers, or other influences that have shaped your practice?
When I was in college in New York, I became fascinated with The Face of Another by Hiroshi Teshigahara, which led me to read Kōbō Abe’s original novel and later The Woman in the Dunes. I returned to his films many times, they’re still among my favorites. I also love The Silent Cry by Kenzaburō Ōe and The Temple of the Golden Pavilion by Yukio Mishima. More recently, Pachinko by Min Jin Lee deeply moved me, and I’m currently reading Death’s End by Liu Cixin. I guess I tend to gravitate towards Asian authors, haha.
Whenever I read the literary expressions, I often find myself wondering how I might translate certain scenes into a visual language. Sometimes I even write down my favorite sentences in my sketchbook.
As for visual artists, I love Domenico Gnoli, Henri Rousseau, Helen Frankenthaler, Joseph Stella, Lee Bontecou, and Andrew Wyeth… I could go on and on. I’m drawn to a wide range of visual languages, regardless of genre.
_What are the main sources or impulses behind your work today?
If I don’t make work, I feel like I lose my voice. So I keep going.

_Many of your works feel very intimate and personal. At the same time, in a past interview, you mentioned that the figures in your work are not necessarily yourself.
How do you understand these figures that feel personal, yet are not reducible to a single identity?
Sometimes the figure feels like me, and sometimes it doesn’t. I don’t begin with a fixed figure or pose. For example, I might start with a landscape and then feel that someone should be there, so I add a figure. Since it’s easier to reference myself in my studio, I often use my own image as a model.
But when I look at the figure in the painting, I often feel a certain distance. It looks like me, but it doesn't fully feels like me. There are also times when I include a figure and then remove it because it doesn’t resonate.
As an artist, I hope that even if viewers from different cultural backgrounds primarily see an Asian female figure, they can still find a universal connection through it.
_Regarding the figures in your work, are they conceived as specific characters?
Or are they more symbolic presences?
No, if I had intended to depict a specific person, I would have mentioned them in the title. As I have mentioned in the previous answer, I usually begin with a simple thought, something like, ‘it would be nice to have a figure here’ and build the painting from there. So rather than a defined character, I hope the figure is seen as a universal presence.
_When you begin a work, do you start with a clear image in mind?I ask because your works often include striking and unique motifs, such as fortune cookies, Tsingtao beer, or novels by Kobo Abe.Are these elements intentionally planned from the beginning?
I don’t plan things in a very specific way from the beginning. If I plan too much, it starts to feel like I’m doing someone else’s assignment rather than making my own work, and I lose interest quickly. Even when I sketch, I do quick, fast drawings until I find a composition that feels right.
For larger paintings, I sometimes test colors on small pieces of paper, but the final result almost always ends up different from the initial idea. In a way, painting is like not knowing what tomorrow will bring, I just go with the flow.


_What does “beauty” mean to you?
That’s a really difficult question. At this point in my life, I think “beauty” means something that feels natural to me.
_Are there particular things, moments, or images in everyday life that you personally find beautiful?
To be honest, when I do feel something, it’s more a sense of “fun” than “beauty”. I don’t think of myself as painting something beautiful necessarily.
_Finally, is there anything you would like to share with those encountering your work for the first time?
There are no fixed answers in my paintings, so I hope you feel free to experience and enjoy them in your own way.

Sally J. Han
Sally J. Han (b. 1993, Shenyang, China) is an artist living and working in New York, NY. Han received her BFA from the School of Visual Arts, New York, NY in 2016, and her MFA from the New York Academy of Art, New York, NY, in 2019. She has been the subject of several solo exhibitions, including Nine Lives, Gallery Belenius, Stockholm, Sweden (2023); Lost and Found, Fortnight Institute, New York, NY (2022); a Solo Presentation at Independent Art Fair, New York, NY (2021), and Foreplay, Fortnight Institute, New York, NY (2020). Han has been included in numerous group exhibitions, including Pictures Girls Make: Portraitures, curated by Alison Gingeras, Blum & Poe, Los Angeles, CA (2023); In New York, Thinking of You, The FLAG Art Foundation, New York, NY (2023); Pictus Porrectus: Reconsidering the Full Length Portrait, curated by Alison M. Gingeras and Dodie Kazanjian, Art & Newport Foundation, Newport, RI (2022); Dark Light, Realism in the Age of Post truth, curated by Massimiliano Gioni, Aïshti Foundation, Beirut, Lebanon (2022); The Power to Dream, Hussenot Gallery, Paris, France (2022); and Wonder Women, Jeffrey Deitch Gallery, Los Angeles, CA and New York, NY (2022), among others. Her work is held in the collections of the Aïshti Foundation, Jal El Dib, Lebanon, and the Institute of Contemporary Art, Miami, FL.



