Fragments of Fire

It was a quiet morning when I found myself

Master Kim Se-yong in his Icheon studio

in the Icheon studio of 79 year old renowned artist Master Se-Yong Kim, who carries on the tradition of Goryeo Celadon, tucked into a modest space that belied the significance of what it held. Decades of devotion lay scattered across shelves, displayed in glass, or quietly resting in shadowed corners. Each piece was a testament—not just to mastery, but to discipline, patience, and an unrelenting pursuit of perfection.

Shaping the clay

It's not surprising that his work is in major museums and private collections, including those of the Dalai Lama and Queen Elizabeth II.

We spoke for hours. He walked me through his process with quiet intensity, his hands never far from the clay. At one point, I sat beside him at the potter’s wheel, camera in hand, watching those hands coax form from earth. He showed me the double-walled structures he’d developed, the intricate latticework, and how the patterns and colors emerged from the unforgiving heat of his self-built kilns.

Outside, just behind the studio, was a pile of broken shards—some just slightly warped,

Breaking the flawed pieces

some visibly flawed, others... heartbreakingly beautiful.

I asked about them. He told me that many pieces—sometimes most—don’t survive the firing to meet his personal standard. He examines each one after the kiln cools. If it fails to pass his scrutiny, he breaks it by hand. Not out of anger, but as ritual. As conviction.

Among those remnants, I saw fragments I couldn’t look away from.

With his permission, I picked up a few. Not as curiosities, but as keepsakes. Because in those broken pieces was something deeply whole. I also brought home one of his finished works. A stunning geometric bloom, framed in quiet elegance. It now hangs on a wall at Sukoon, but not alone.

Beneath it, using wood from the box in which I carried his work home, I’ve framed the shards .The ones that didn’t make it. I added a caption in English and Korean to explain what they spoke to me.

Together, they tell the fuller story—not just of a finished object, but of the journey, the eye that demands more, and the fire that both creates and destroys.