"... I imagine a future where human memories and sensations become commodities..." Omyo Cho

Francisco Lacerda: Is it correct to say that you have a disruptive art?

Omyo Cho: In response to whether my work is destructive, I would argue that it is our reality that serves as the true arena of destruction. Humanity, in its relentless quest to understand and dominate the world, has continuously reshaped nature, often to the point of distorting and breaking its very essence. Yet, my work seeks something beyond that destruction—a new world of possibilities rising from the ruins. My attempt to transform the immateriality of memory into a physical form is akin to reaching out to grasp the unseen, to hold in our hands what seems intangible. Memory, contrary to what we might think, is not merely an abstraction. It is a concrete world unto itself, a complex weave of molecules, proteins, synapses, and neurons within the brain.

Thus, I imagine a future where human memories and sensations become commodities—bought, sold, and embedded within one another. A world where another’s memory can take root inside me, where another’s experience becomes an inseparable part of my own. This vision hints at a fluid space where the boundaries of identity and perception are constantly crossed and blurred. My work seeks to explore this blurring of lines, to search for the potential of new existences. This exploration might feel unfamiliar, even unsettling or violent to some, but it is merely an invitation to a world where forms yet unknown to us might reside.

We often equate the end of humanity with the end of the world itself. But what if humanity’s absence marks the beginning of something else entirely? Imagine new forms of life and consciousness emerging in places where the traces of humans have faded away. These are fragments of new possibilities, conceived within the realms of our memory and imagination. I gather these fragments, weaving a quiet narrative of life growing amid the rubble of a shattered reality.

Ultimately, my work is a dream of rebirth after destruction—a journey into a post-human world, a quest to uncover the possibilities and lives we have yet to discover. Within the debris of a broken world, we might encounter a beauty we have overlooked. This is the essence of my work: the story of another world emerging from the cracks of a fractured reality, a story that carries with it the promise of another possibility waiting to unfold.

FL: Do you think that today science fiction is becoming a reality?

OC: Is science fiction becoming a reality today? I’d like to answer this question from a different perspective. Think of George Orwell’s <1984>. Orwell’s vision of 1984 was not the reality we lived through, nor does it resemble our world today. Yet, whenever we sense even the faintest hints of authoritarianism, we invoke <1984>, as if Orwell were a prophet who foresaw the future. But Orwell wasn’t trying to predict the future. He used the future as a mirror to reflect the totalitarian politics of his present.

This is why I immerse myself so deeply in world-building whenever I create. By envisioning the future shaped by advancing technologies, I find myself questioning whether that future is truly accessible to all. Just as today’s technologies are often privileges of the few, so too might tomorrow’s innovations serve only a select class. Think of the billionaires venturing into space—are they explorers of a new frontier, or are they just wielding a different form of power?

Many works of science fiction choose dystopia over utopia because the genre uses the future to cast light on the present. Dystopia acts as a lens, allowing us to step back and see the now more clearly. It’s like casting the shadows of our current world against the backdrop of a dark future sky. But this doesn’t mean that science fiction is always delivering a political message. Just because I mention <1984> doesn’t mean I’m a political activist. Rather, my work explores the complexities of the present through the stage of the future.

Science fiction isn’t about becoming our future reality; it’s about borrowing the language of the future to tell stories of the now. It doesn’t predict what’s to come but rather uses a mirror that transcends time to make our current reality more vivid. While it seems to ask, “What will happen?” it is actually asking, “Where do we stand today?

FL: Why did you create the installation ‘Nudi hallucination’?

OC: If you ask why I created , it began with an exploration of transforming memory from something intangible into something physical. In 2021, my collaboration with neuroscientist Dr. Hye-Young Ko introduced me to experiments involving the transference of memory and surrogate sensations using sea slugs, a model for human brain cells. This naturally led me into a realm of science fiction imagination. Memory is not just an abstract concept; it is something stored within the tangible structure of brain cells, a reality composed of interwoven molecules and neurons that, through their complex interplay, bring memories into being.

What happens, then, if we enter a world where memories can be artificially transferred or even fabricated? A world where we might buy and sell another’s memories, possess sensations we never lived ourselves? In such a future, how might we evolve? What kind of beings would we become?

These are the questions that gave birth to .I envisioned a future where memories and sensations are exchanged and created new entities—new aquatic beings, sculpted forms that reflect this speculative evolution. They are the offspring of a world where technology and nature intertwine in unexpected ways.

The specter of climate change and environmental upheaval looms like an impending disaster, yet from within this chaos, I imagine unknown intelligent life forms relying on technology to survive. And still, the belief that science and technology can save us is often shadowed by dystopian outcomes.

Ultimately, my work is an exploration of the new possibilities that might emerge from a shattered reality. Destruction is not necessarily an end; it can be a beginning. Technology could be our salvation, or it could lead us into new forms of bondage. What matters are the possibilities we choose to find within it. is about seeking those possibilities, finding stories that might emerge anew among the remnants of what was lost.

@OmyoCho #OmyoCho @WOOSONGALLERY 

Thanks to: Jihye Seo and Yi Youjin, WOOSON GALLERY