Seoul pulsates with contemporaneity, yet a sudden shift occurs upon entering Seochon, the ‘west village,’ named for its location west of Gyeongbok Palace, a neighborhood nestled in the northwest of the capital. The labyrinthine alleys, barely wide enough for a single person, lead to a cul-de-sac, where a hanok—a traditional Korean house—lies secluded. As the wooden gate swings open, the guest is respectfully asked to remove their shoes and ascend a raised platform, subtly demarcating between inside and out, and thus encounters a peaceful sanctuary.
Immediately drawn to the Full Moon Room, a versatile space that integrates a home office, storage, and a serene retreat. A striking circular window, one meter in diameter and perfectly aligned with Grace Choi’s sightline, evokes the image of a full moon. This deliberate design choice underscores the affection and attentive nature of her husband, Sang-hyun Lee. A multifaceted talent—architect, furniture designer, and branding specialist—he masterfully remodeled this 1970s modern hanok. In the city where apartment living predominates, what inspired this unconventional choice by the young couple?
“There is an abundance of reasons to cherish life in a hanok. A profound attraction is rooted in appreciating the tranquil existence our ancestors cultivated, a life imbued with the aesthetics of empty space and nature’s seamless integration. Take for instance, the windows delicately papered with hanji, Korea’s heritage paper. They diffuse light, creating a soft, ambient atmosphere, while discreetly preserving privacy. This is a gesture of thoughtful consideration.” He continues, “There is the joy of breathing in harmony with the seasons within a home crafted of natural materials. The timber structure, woven with precious wood originating in the southern region—renowned for its venerable pine forests—gently adjusts with the wood’s expansion and contraction. This harmonious relationship with nature reaches to the very design of the home. The eaves are ingeniously designed to regulate sunlight, welcoming it in winter and providing shade by blocking it in summer. This is sufficient to eliminate the need for heating, even during the coldest months.”
Following her husband, Grace also says, “I admire the remarkable adaptability and flexibility of this home. If we put a television in the room, it becomes a movie room, and if we put a small table in it, it becomes a tea room. The furniture, including several Sobans—portable dining tables fit for a single person—suited for our traditional seated lifestyle, was all designed by him. The gable structure enhances sound resonance.” For this sound therapist, deeply interested in psychology, meditation, and consciousness, the soundscape is paramount. True to her words, the space constantly evolves with the real residents’ lifestyle beyond the tangible passage of time witnessed in the courtyard. “I found myself cooking less than I anticipated,” she remarks, “so the kitchen gradually shrank. And with the arrival of our adorable family, Namoo and Dal, the dining table was removed to give them more room to roam freely.”
The experience of this hanok extends beyond its interiors. An inconspicuous staircase in the courtyard connects to a small rooftop overlooking a breathtaking panorama of Inwang and Bugak Mountains, both over 330m, forming a majestic backdrop. This is an extraordinary moment rarely found in a bustling metropolis.
