Return of the Genius Photographer

After scheduling the interview with Monthly Photography, I remained glued to my computer in the studio.

Though I had completed the work Jung Woong had assigned me, I needed to prepare for the interview—well, technically, it was more of a personal task that I’d been putting off.

‘This blog still feels so empty without more photos…’

I stared at the portfolio blog I had created a while ago, feeling a bit dissatisfied.

I’d barely touched it since its initial setup.

It had a few photos—some taken at construction sites, a couple from Minjung’s shopping mall shoot, and a few shots of an old neighborhood I’d captured for the contest. There weren’t many, so it felt incomplete.

Naturally, the promotional effect I had hoped for was nonexistent.

I knew I had been busy with other things, but still, seeing it now made me feel regretful.

‘No, let’s take this chance to do it right.’

Or rather, better late than never. Thankfully, after my trip to Australia, I had plenty of photos to add. I decided to use this opportunity to build the portfolio properly and give it a good push during the interview.

‘And why not make a personal website too?’

If I were focusing solely on my domestic career, the blog would suffice. But after my trip to Australia, I realized I didn’t need to limit myself to Korea. Creating a personal website would allow me to showcase my work to an international audience. Expanding the space where I can display my photography would also enhance my promotional reach.

Luckily, I had plenty of time now that I’d finished Jung Woong’s assignment early. And building a personal site wouldn’t be difficult—many foreign photographers already had them, so I could take inspiration from their layouts.

‘The photos from the blog can be moved over, but first, I need to sort through everything.’

I began curating the photos I’d taken so far. Just like I had sifted through Jung Woong’s photos earlier, I couldn’t just upload everything and risk making my portfolio look cluttered. It was better to organize the photos according to themes or key elements.

It wasn’t hard for me to categorize my own photos, though parting with certain shots felt bittersweet. Still, the goal was to present a cohesive portfolio, and the focus had to be on what would make the best impression on those viewing it.

That’s what I was good at.

Once I started adding the selected photos to my portfolio, the gallery quickly transformed from something bare into a rich visual display. However, there was now a new issue—the sheer variety of images seemed to clash, distracting from the overall flow.

A portfolio shouldn’t be like this.

I began reorganizing the layout, untangling the visual mess.

Let the viewer’s gaze flow naturally.

People’s eyes instinctively move from left to right when they aren’t thinking about it. Therefore, when showcasing multiple photos on one screen, it’s better to place the key image on the right.

Put portraits front and center. Human eyes are naturally drawn to faces.

In the same vein, portrait shots, especially those with large, clear faces, tend to hold people’s attention longer than landscapes or animal photos. So, for maximum impact, it’s always best to feature a portrait as the first image in a portfolio.

‘Good. This looks much better.’

Time passed as I refined the arrangement, and eventually, I allowed myself a small smile. The screen before me now displayed a well-organized, visually striking photo gallery, a far cry from the sparse and incomplete look it had before.

After putting in so much effort, I was confident it would hold up for a while.

By the time I finished, the hours had flown by, and it was already dark outside.

It was time to head home.

***

Headquarters of Monthly Photography Magazine.

From the morning, Wonsik was in a good mood, humming to himself. Today was the day of his interview with Woojin. Though he had interviewed many new talents over the years, none had ever made him this excited. The anticipation for this interview was different.

“Senior! Nam Woojin is here on the first floor. Should I ask him to come up?”

“Of course, why even ask?”

Woojin, who was scheduled to arrive in the morning, arrived at the Monthly Photography headquarters right on time, and Wonsik was able to meet him right away.

“Hello.”

“Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Nam Woojin.”

They exchanged smiles and greetings.

‘Wait, he’s good-looking?’

The first thing that caught Wonsik’s eye as he saw Woojin was his appearance.

Pale skin and a kind smile. Though his features were youthful, there was something mature and composed about him, making him look more like a polished young professional than a high school student.

‘This might be even bigger than I thought!’

Wonsik’s expectations, already high, were shooting through the roof.

There isn’t a media outlet in Korea that dislikes a good-looking person. While looks certainly aren’t what determine the success of a photographer, there’s no denying that they draw attention.

He already knew Woojin’s talent was undeniable from his previous works.

‘A high school photography prodigy who’s also good-looking?’

The headline practically wrote itself in Wonsik’s mind.

“Where will the interview take place?” Woojin asked, pulling Wonsik out of his thoughts.

‘Oops, I was spacing out in front of the interviewee.’

“Ah, my apologies. I got a bit distracted. Please, have a seat. Aside from a brief photo session, it’s just a conversation between the two of us, so we’ll be doing it here.”

“That’s fine. I’ve got plenty of time.”

Woojin sat down in the chair Wonsik indicated, his demeanor calm and relaxed. Seeing this, Wonsik felt a strange sensation.

‘Something’s odd.’

Why was Woojin so composed?

Monthly Photography was the top photography magazine in Korea, a prestigious publication that every photographer aspired to be featured in.
Normally, any newcomer interviewed here would be visibly excited, riding high on the opportunity. But Woojin seemed unusually calm, almost as if this was routine for him, or perhaps even expected.

His relaxed yet dignified demeanor carried a certain grace, making Wonsik question again,

‘Is he really a high school student?’

Though he knew Woojin’s age, his composed attitude left a strong impression. Eager to begin, Wonsik started the interview.

“Let’s start by talking about the competition. You recently became the youngest recipient of the grand prize at the Seoul Photography Competition.”

Wonsik, pulling out his pre-prepared questions, began the conversation.

Woojin nodded.

“Could you explain the photograph that won you the award?”

“The photo I took captured the life of a resident in Gireum-dong, an area undergoing redevelopment,” Woojin replied calmly.

“When I first saw the theme of the competition, I immediately wanted to capture someone living in the most intense environment in Seoul.”

His eyes deepened as he recalled that moment, and Wonsik found himself drawn to Woojin’s words, his gaze fixed on the young photographer’s face.

Though interviews typically involved simple questions and answers, they often revealed a person’s core philosophy. It was, in Wonsik’s opinion, a condensed glimpse into someone’s life.

That’s what he loved about interviews.

“So, do you think the people living in redevelopment zones like Gireum-dong are living the most intense lives in Seoul?”

“Not exactly,” Woojin replied thoughtfully. “Everyone lives intensely in their own way, no matter where they are. Everyone strives to continue their lives, doing their best in their own circumstances.”

There was a depth to his words that Wonsik hadn’t expected from someone so young.

“In simpler terms, it was more of a symbol. I just felt that the lives of people in Gireum-dong best expressed what I wanted to convey.”

For the first time during the interview, Wonsik found himself silently impressed.

‘Wow…’

The person in front of him seemed less like a student and more like a seasoned philosopher.

“Then, was it during the competition that you connected with photographer Jung Woong?”

Momentarily flustered, Wonsik barely managed to continue his questioning.

“Yes, he really liked my work.”

“I see. Is that how you came to exhibit at his gallery as well?”

“Ah… I guess you could say that.”

At that, Woojin smiled, as if recalling a pleasant memory. That smile made him seem like a high schooler again.

In any case, Wonsik, regaining his composure thanks to Woojin’s smile, pressed on with the interview.

“We also can’t skip over the fact that your work at the exhibition was priced at 3 million won, quite a high price for a newcomer. And yet, it was quickly sold out—quite the buzz!”

“Buzz?”

“Of course! In fact, one of your pieces was purchased by the famous actor Song Sang-hyun!”

At this, Woojin’s expression shifted into surprise for the first time during the interview.

“Pardon?”

It was the first time he’d heard of it.

***

40th floor of Trimage Apartments, Seongsu-dong, with a distant view of the Han River.

Though this apartment was famous for its breathtaking sunsets over the Han River, the current owner, Song Sang-hyun, wasn’t paying attention to the view.

“Wow. This photo is incredible…”

What captivated him was a large photograph hanging on one of the walls—Woojin’s work from Jung Woong’s exhibition.

‘I’m glad I bought this.’

After staring at the photo for a long while, that thought crossed Song Sang-hyun’s mind.

Who could have predicted he would stumble upon such a masterpiece at an exhibition he had attended with high expectations for Jung Woong’s work?

Even after several days, the various faces of Jung Woong portrayed in this photo refused to grow old.

Just how long had he been admiring the photo?

“Hey, that’s new.”

Someone opened the door and casually stepped into the apartment.

“Oh, you’re here, hyung?”

“Yeah, thought I’d stop by for a beer.”

It was Kim Yong-deok, a young director working on Blues of the Slums, the movie Song Sang-hyun was currently shooting. Having worked on multiple films together, the two were close enough to freely visit each other’s homes and occasionally share a drink.

Yong-deok noticed the unfamiliar photo and voiced his curiosity.

“That photo? When did you get that?”

“Oh, I recently went to Jung Woong’s exhibition. I couldn’t take my eyes off this piece, so after a bit of deliberation, I bought it.”

“Jung Woong? That must’ve been expensive. How much?”

As someone familiar with Jung Woong’s work, Yong-deok knew the photographer well. He glanced over the photo again and asked, to which Song Sang-hyun held up three fingers.

“Three.”

“Three? Three hundred thousand?”

“No, three million won.”

At that, Yong-deok tilted his head in confusion.

“Three million? That’s cheap for one of Jung Woong’s pieces.”

“Actually, it’s not Jung Woong’s photo. Turns out it’s by a new photographer.”

“A new photographer? Oh…”

“Yeah. Impressive, right? I asked the curator, and they said he’s Jung Woong’s student. Seeing him produce work like this already, I think he’s going to make it big.”

Still gazing at the photo, Song Sang-hyun spoke with a smile filled with expectation.

“Maybe one day this piece will be worth over three billion won, don’t you think?”

“Is that why you bought it?”

“Come on, I’m joking.”

Ignoring Song Sang-hyun’s playful remark, Yong-deok kept staring at the photo. It was the kind of photo that grabbed your attention and refused to let go.

Truly an outstanding piece.

“A new photographer who takes photos like this and is Jung Woong’s student…”

Muttering as if he were thinking aloud, Yong-deok turned to Song Sang-hyun.

“That’s perfect. I’ve been preparing for a poster shoot.”

“Are you thinking of hiring this photographer?”

“Yeah, so what’s their name?”

“He’s called Nam Woojin.”

When Song Sang-hyun answered, Yong-deok repeated the name softly, as if engraving it in his memory.

Nam Woojin…