SPACE September 2025 (No. 694)
I AM AN ARCHITECT
‘I am an Architect’ was planned to meet young architects who seek their own architecture in a variety of materials and methods. What do they like, explore, and worry about? SPACE is going to discover individual characteristics of them rather than group them into a single category. The relay interview continues when the architect who participated in the conversation calls another architect in the next turn.
interview Kim Wonill principal, Becban Architecture × Kim Hyerin
A Humble, Everyday, Becban Architecture
Kim Hyerin: Since you work with what is available and sometimes even build projects yourself, Becban Architecture really suits its name—like home-style Korean meal! Please introduce the studio.
Kim Wonill: If funds were unlimited, you might order a full-course meal, but that’s not what happens in everyday life! My aim is to make spaces that are attainable, well considered and fairly priced. That’s why I go beyond the design stage.
Kim Hyerin: I understand that you first opened your office near Yeonnam-dong, as a two-person office named ‘Architectural workshop miyongsil’. What led you to start your own firm?
Kim Wonill: At first, I was planning to leave my first firm, Moohoi Architecture Studio (hereinafter Moohoi), and move to another office. But one day I lost the laptop that had my portfolio I had built up since my student days. I wasn’t the most scrupulous person, so I hadn’t backed it up. Without the portfolio, I had no way of showing the kinds of work I had done. I could have rebuilt it from memory, but it felt like a sign! (laugh) Around that time I received a small interior commission and I took it as motivation to start my own studio.
Kim Hyerin: You initially ran a two-person office. What led you to establish Becban Architecture as an independent practice?
Kim Wonill: I had known Park Younggook, with whom I co-ran Architectural workshop miyongsil, since university. We worked together for about six or seven years. I felt that it was time to go independent again and I thought an independent studio might suit me better. Architectural workshop miyongsil was already somewhat experimental, and the way I practice now isn’t exactly mainstream, so finding a partner wasn’t easy. There was a possibility I could fail, so I chose to push ahead alone and see how far I could take it. (laugh)
The masked house (tentative name) under construction
Kim Wonill
Working On-Site
Kim Hyerin: You often work directly on-site without a formal office, even managing construction.
Kim Wonill: Typically, the designer designs and a contractor builds. However, that inevitably drives up costs, and with two parties beside the owner there’s room for conflict. For small projects I usually take it on; I think it’s reasonable for the person who designs to also oversee construction.
Kim Hyerin: How did you first get started with on-site construction work?
Kim Wonill: My first professional experience was at Moohoi, which focused on home renovations. Back in university, I had no reference for an office that combined design and construction, no role model, and I didn’t even know it was possible. But Moohoi became my first reference point as a practice that performs both design and construction. Working there made me realise that this way of practicing could actually make architecture more enjoyable.
Kim Hyerin: So, would you say you learned construction at Moohoi?
Kim Wonill: What I really picked up there was the process. I learned who to ask when I had questions, where to go to find things, or where to look when I needed to buy certain materials. Since I was there only for a little over a year, I would say most of it was selftaught. Discovering what to ask and what to explore, I think that’s the first stage of self-study. I learned a lot from the builders on-site, carpenters, and bricklayers. I made plenty of mistakes at the beginning. These days I also learn from YouTube, and I ask senior colleagues and friends who were trained at good studios. (laugh)
Kim Hyerin: How would you characterise your experience of trial and error?
Kim Wonill: Some of the things you learn on-site are expected and ‘reasonable’ but there are also what we might call shortcuts. For example, the proper way to install plaster board is by using screws. That’s the standard in most other countries. But in Korea, more than 95% of the time, it’s done with a nail gun. At first, I didn’t realise that it was a workaround. Once I learned the proper method, I started using screws when the structure was wood and I expected it to shift over time. I still do not insist on always sticking to the textbook method. With lightweight framing timber or small stud, which is quite flexible, I sometimes use glue and a nail gun. It’s faster, and the workers are highly skilled at it.
Incheon site under construction
Kim Hyerin: Do you usually work with a set group of builders?
Kim Wonill: I am the site manager, and I work with carpenters, and workers who deal with metalwork. Altogether there are around 20 to 30 people I work with on a regular basis, and sometimes I work with more people depending on the project. We have worked together for over a decade, so some are close to retirement. I’m already thinking about how to form the next team.
Kim Hyerin: What do you see as the advantages of working directly on-site?
Kim Wonill: At first, the main reason was to reduce costs. But being on-site while designing allows me to respond flexibly to unexpected situations. Especially during renovation work, it’s not possible to create a perfectly fitting design just from drawings. At least I can’t. (laugh) You have to open things up and assess the real condition. If something we make seems out of place, we fix it. You can’t leave a discordant element just because it was in the original design. We cut and arrange on site, like making study models in school. At some point I stopped separating design and construction. I bring a laptop to the site, draft in CAD, and design and build at the same time. The ceiling light on the second-floor living room is a recent example. It wasn’t in the plan, but during the work, I felt the room needed a stronger focal point. I designed it four days ago, sent it to a metal shop for fabrication, started assembly yesterday afternoon, and installed it this morning. That’s how it works.
Kim Hyerin: This interview is taking place at a site in Incheon, but you’ve also worked in places all across the country, like Hanam, Paju, Jeju, Ilsan, and Goesan. When you work on projects farther away, do you stay near the site?
Kim Wonill: During the design phase, I usually go back and forth between home and the site to get the design to a certain point. From the moment construction starts, I find places to stay nearby. For example, I lived in Jeju for about two years and in Goesan for around seven months. Of course, if the site is within commuting distance, I commute.
Kim Hyerin: That must mean you hardly spend any time at home.
Kim Wonill: That’s how I ended up without a fixed office. After spending more than half a year living away on-site, not having an office actually started to feel more natural.
Mohanong box (2021), ©Kim Wonill
Together, We Build
Kim Hyerin: How do people usually get in touch with Becban Architecture?
Kim Wonill: About 90% come through referrals. New clients are often introduced by those I’ve worked with before, or they track me down after seeing one of my projects. Sometimes acquaintances bring in commissions. I don’t have a wide network, so it surprises me too.
Kim Hyerin: In the case of Librairie de nuit (2016, 2024), you relocated the earlier space from Yeonhui-dong to Daesin-dong.
Kim Wonill: The two managers contacted me after seeing a bar project I did in Mangwon-dong in 2015. We worked together in 2016 and became close, and they were very happy with the result. Librairie de nuit built a strong brand in a tough bookstore market and ran well for years. After eight years they decided to expand and move and asked me again to work on the interior design. In the meantime, I also did one of the manager’s home interior design. (laugh) Since customers liked the original atmosphere, I carried over the key elements from the old space and limited the changes to structural adjustments.
Kim Hyerin: Do clients often come back for another commission?
Kim Wonill: Since I don’t handle many projects, I wouldn’t say it happens often, but it does from time to time. For instance, a farm hut project Mohanong box (2021) came my way after I had designed Mohanong house (2020). Although officially registered as a small farm structure, the request was to create a system of spaces that included a vegetable garden, kitchen, bookstore, and a shop. The original place was already busy, so I didn’t want to turn the area into a construction site. I had also only recently moved back up to Seoul from Goesan and I didn’t want to move back down so soon. Since the scale of the project seemed manageable for delivery, I rented a warehouse for about three months at a furniture factory I know in Pocheon, built three huts there, and trucked them down. I sent drawings ahead to technicians in Goesan to do the foundation work, and I went down for just a single day to install everything before heading back. I’ve also had the chance to get quite close to the client of mohanong house.
Kim Hyerin: You seem to get close to everyone, always working on-site. (laugh)
Kim Wonill: Not on every project, but I think it happens more often for me than for others. If we’re seeing each other on site every day and don’t end up close, we’re probably not a good fit. Typically, the relationship with clients tends to be a bit hierarchical, but with small, low-budget projects we often work side by side. It feels more like all of us are building a house together. Long after completion, when I drop by, clients will tell me what’s good and what’s not about the space, and they always use the word, ‘we’. They’ll say, ‘I think we did really well on this part,’ or ‘I think we kind of missed out on that part.’ What I hear most isn’t whether something was good or bad, but that word—‘we’. They really think of it as something we built together. Those memories mean a lot to me.
Librairie de nuit (2024), Image courtesy of Librairie de nuit
Kim Hyerin: I heard a client is even coming by to paint at the Incheon site today. (laugh)
Kim Wonill: It’s not that I force them to do it! I just explain that if they take part within the limits of what they can do, it naturally helps reduce construction costs, and most of the time they’re willing to join. Especially with single-family houses, once they’ve had a hand in the work, they don’t always call for a professional for maintenance. They tend to handle it themselves. That saves money and builds a stronger attachment to the place.
Kim Hyerin: What kind of project is taking place on the Incheon site?
Kim Wonill: It’s a brick house built in the 1980s that’s being renovated for residential use. There’s a church and a square in front, so on Sundays the area fills with people. Even with a small budget, I wanted to bring solutions to the site conditions, so I made a screen made of corrugated sheet along the façade, like a fence. It looks as if the house is wearing a mask, so I’m thinking of calling it, ‘The masked house’.
Kim Hyerin: What kind of projects are you willing to take on?
Kim Wonill: I want to build my own house, on a very low budget. Once you try to meet common expectations for aesthetics and finish, the costs inevitably rise. I can’t use recycled materials if the client doesn’t want them. So there are cost-saving ideas I know but haven’t been able to try, and I want to test them all on my own house.
Kim Hyerin: Do you have any blueprints in mind?
Kim Wonill: I have ideas for about half, and I plan to improvise the rest. When you’re working with reused materials, you often start with what’s already available. So instead of fitting materials to a design, I fit the design to the materials. I’ll gather what I’ve collected, bring it to the site, and let that guide what kind of house it becomes. That makes the process architecturally interesting, and for me personally, it feels like a way to finally realise the dream of building my own home. These days, high-end spaces dominate the market. People say construction costs have gone up, and while part of that is raw materials and labour, it’s also because the general eye for architecture in Korea has become sharper. Tiles we used just six or seven years ago are now seen as low-grade. That’s part of why costs have become higher. So, from my perspective, I sometimes question whether we really need to build that way. I’d like to try making something not high-end but low-end.Kim Wonill, our interviewee, wants to be shared some stories from Won Gyeyeon, Lee Jeseon (co-principals, studiothewon) in October 2025 issue.
You can see more information on the SPACE No. September (2025).
Kim Wonill
Kim Wonill creates recipes for how to create sincere, well-crafted spaces at ordinary cost—much like preparing a becban (home-style Korean meal) from ingredients bought at the local market. He believes that the more constraints a project has, the more it requires approaching design as construction and construction as design, which is why he works across both fields. His focus is on achieving what he calls a ‘reasonable aesthetics’, a space that is practical in use yet substantial in architectural content.
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