My Photography, My Life

I grew up around oil paints, smelly thinner in brush washers and stacked canvases cluttering the walls.  Our house was in Osan, Korea with an art studio on the first floor.  My father was an artist, a painter of expressionist works.  Even to this day, I get nostalgic from smelling fresh oil paints. I used to watch my father paint at his wooden easel nearly everyday inside the cozy studio space.  Art was a regular part of our family’s life and while growing up, I believed I was destined to become a painter.  

It was 1977 and I had barely turned nine years old when our family immigrated here to the United States.  My father struggled as an artist and wasn’t able to enjoy the success he once had in our new country. He had difficulty supporting the family, so my mother started working a full time job to keep us afloat. Living through the financial struggles during my teenage years dampened my desire of having an artistic career.  

My life became relatively stable after I set out on my own and found a decent paying job, but it was a place absent of art. I put together a small studio space inside my garage where I painted in my spare time.  This went on for many years.  Once I moved to the East Bay in 2002 and into an old warehouse turned loft space, there was finally enough room to paint comfortably. I did a couple of gallery shows and sold some paintings, however I lacked the confidence and aspiration to seriously pursue it as a profession.  Perhaps there was always that fear of failure looming in my subconscious. Painting became a way of therapy for me and it also relieved my artistic itch. Yet the satisfaction was always fleeting.

Artist Ralph McQuarrie in Pak Han’s studio, 2004 | Photo: Caroline Kieu Linh Valverde

In 2008, I bought my first pro-grade DSLR (Digital Single-Lens Reflex) camera, the Canon 5D Mark II after I fell in love with photography. It all started one afternoon, when a photographer friend generously let me play with his Leica M8 rangefinder.  He looked at some of the shots I’ve taken and gave me some great feedback.  After that day, I knew photography was the missing puzzle piece in my life.  Holding the camera to my face and hearing the clicking sound of the shutter gave me a euphoric rush. I was hooked. The unusual thing is, I had an old Canon AE-1 camera that my father gifted me on my 18th birthday, but I rarely used it.  I never felt the spark for photography all that time I had it. Perhaps it’s all about the timing or I just needed someone to give me a nudge. 

Few months later, I took the Canon 5D with me to Japan.  I spent most of my time there getting lost on the streets of Tokyo, taking photographs of people going about their lives.  I loved every minute of it.  Street photography was my calling. My passion for photography blossomed quickly and I began building my portfolio. The following year, one of the shots taken during my trip was published in The Japan Times newspaper, and two other photos became part of a group exhibition in Tokyo.

Walking Home, © Pak Han 2009. Published in The Japan Times

Photography opened up a whole new creative outlet.  It presented an opportunity to share my eye with an audience and tell stories through the captured moments that connected with me during my explorations in cities near and far.  It also gave me the confidence I didn’t have with painting. Making art in my studio was a solitary process, but photography lead me outside where interaction with people and the surroundings were essential.  It also showed me a fresh perspective of the world, and I began to recognize the subtle nuances of everyday life that were once ignored. It was like suddenly having a third eye. Photography gave me a new purpose, fulfilling my need for creativity in a very satisfying way.  

Promotional photo shoot for Choreographer Nina Haft’s King Tide, 2015 | Photo: Nina Haft

My photography led me on an unexpected journey.  Quite by accident, I became a Performance Art Photographer, photo documenting rehearsals, doing production and promo shoots for theatremakers and choreographers.  I did this for nearly ten years.  During that time, I took on a yearlong personal photo project called, Transfiguration and had my first solo show in San Francisco.  Although I was working professionally as a photographer, I was also a student at the same time, learning and refining my craft literally on the job.  Through both valuable experiences and difficult challenges, I’ve become a better photographer today. There is still a lot to learn, which is wonderful.

In 2018, I decided to step away from performance art.  It was a difficult decision to make, because I really enjoyed collaborating with so many amazingly talented folks in the Bay Area and I was also offered plenty of work.  In the end, I felt I’ve hit the peak creatively and was becoming stagnant as an artist. For me, the best way forward was to not get too comfortable, so I made a decision to move on and give my full attention to street photography. This is where I want to challenge myself at the moment, but who knows where my photography will take me.  I never had a master plan. It was my art that navigated me through the twist and turns on this joyride of life. What’s clear to me now is that I’m the happiest when I have a camera in my hand and my feet pounding the pavements. Each day is an opportunity to discover something new and that’s really exciting to me.