At the Festival d'Avignon, certain presences command attention even before a single word is spoken. The presence of Korean artist Jinyeob Lee made its mark with rare intensity, carried by a work where water becomes a realm of struggle, fragility, and beauty. For her first appearance in France, she brought a performance that does not merely invite viewing: it envelops, suspends, and breathes.
Her water tank, bodies resisting buoyancy, and everyday gestures transformed by an aquatic environment construct a visual language of singular power. Inspired by the haenyeo of Jeju—the female divers who defy the sea—as well as Korean social realities and survival stories she encountered, Jinyeob Lee shapes imagery that directly touches the imagination and the heart.
Her time in Avignon from July 4 to 7 was marked by technical challenges, strict safety standards, and endless administrative discussions, but also by precious encounters with locals, technicians, and programmers from around the world. Through these exchanges, she revealed a profound sensitivity, disarming honesty, and an artistic vision that transcends borders.
In this video interview conducted on August 10, Jinyeob Lee shares her inspirations, struggles, doubts, and hopes. A remarkable artist whose presence at Avignon deserves to be told with the same care she infuses into each of her creations.
Jason Edwards: You presented your work at the Festival d'Avignon. What does this represent for you?
Jinyeob Lee: “I would have never imagined presenting my work at Avignon. I only knew the festival because friends talked about it, but I didn't have much information. I knew it was a major festival, but I didn't hold much hope at first. When I started the administrative procedures, I was surprised by how everything is divided into departments, each handling a specific part of the process.
Upon arriving, I felt something different compared to other festivals where I've performed in Europe, Australia, or New Zealand. Usually, we manage all the technical aspects ourselves, but here we collaborated with theater technicians, which was very comfortable and pleasant. We were also selected for a pre-performance with local residents and organizations. This touched me deeply, because I originally started creating performances to reach people who don't go to the theater. The festival opened up this possibility, and I was genuinely happy to share that moment.
During the festival, we met programmers from around the world, expanding our network and future connections. Performing over five days allowed us to build bonds with local communities and technicians. The audience was exceptional. In Korea, spectators are often between 20 and 30 years old, but in Europe, they are older and very expressive. It was a wonderful experience.”
Upon arriving, I felt something different compared to other festivals where I've performed in Europe, Australia, or New Zealand. Usually, we manage all the technical aspects ourselves, but here we collaborated with theater technicians, which was very comfortable and pleasant. We were also selected for a pre-performance with local residents and organizations. This touched me deeply, because I originally started creating performances to reach people who don't go to the theater. The festival opened up this possibility, and I was genuinely happy to share that moment.
During the festival, we met programmers from around the world, expanding our network and future connections. Performing over five days allowed us to build bonds with local communities and technicians. The audience was exceptional. In Korea, spectators are often between 20 and 30 years old, but in Europe, they are older and very expressive. It was a wonderful experience.”
Can you present the work you are showing here? What is its inspiration?
Jinyeob Lee: “The inspiration comes from an interview with the haenyeo, the female divers of Jeju. They said: 'I always go out to die, but I return alive.' This made me think of Korean society, where many people live on the boundary between life and death. We have a very high suicide rate across all generations. I believe everyone is struggling to survive. So I imagined a performance with a water tank, with the water level right below the nose to symbolize this boundary.
At that time, I was also working with refugees in Korea. It was a new reality for me, and many people around me didn't even know refugees lived in Korea. At the same time, young Koreans wanted to leave the country—which they called 'Hell Joseon'—to go to Northern Europe. Yet the refugees were arriving in Korea with the hope of surviving. This contrast fascinated me, and I wanted to integrate it into the piece.”
At that time, I was also working with refugees in Korea. It was a new reality for me, and many people around me didn't even know refugees lived in Korea. At the same time, young Koreans wanted to leave the country—which they called 'Hell Joseon'—to go to Northern Europe. Yet the refugees were arriving in Korea with the hope of surviving. This contrast fascinated me, and I wanted to integrate it into the piece.”
How would you define your artistic language?
Jinyeob Lee: “I want to display everyday gestures underwater. Actors must fight against buoyancy because everything floats. They have to sit down naturally without showing this physical effort, which is extremely difficult. Of course, water makes everything visually beautiful, but I want to depict daily life within this context. Everyday movement meets water, and that opens up the audience's imagination.
The objects I use are sometimes very cruel, and it would be hard to show them on stage without water because it would feel too realistic. But submerged in water, it helps the audience face this cruelty without pulling back.”
The objects I use are sometimes very cruel, and it would be hard to show them on stage without water because it would feel too realistic. But submerged in water, it helps the audience face this cruelty without pulling back.”
© Christophe Raynaud de Lage / Festival d’Avignon
How would you describe contemporary dance in Korea today?
Jinyeob Lee: “Contemporary dance isn't really my specific field. I think dance pieces are very international, and for me it's hard to distinguish major differences between countries. I utilize a lot of movement, and I often feel I should collaborate with a choreographer. But my choreographer friends tell me I don't need one, so I continue creating my own movements.”
Does the European audience perceive your work differently from the Korean audience?
Jinyeob Lee: “I think they understand what I express very well. In Korea—and I once explained this during a talk in Spain—the audience often finds contemporary dance too abstract. To them, 'abstract' means 'difficult'. They always want to know exactly what something means. This is tied to our education system, which conditions people to search for right answers. As students advance through the system, art and physical education are removed, so people aren't taught how to engage with artwork.
In Europe, the public knows how to use their imagination. I provide clues for them to imagine, rather than giving a definitive answer. It is wonderful to perform for an audience that can imagine freely.”
In Europe, the public knows how to use their imagination. I provide clues for them to imagine, rather than giving a definitive answer. It is wonderful to perform for an audience that can imagine freely.”
What was the biggest challenge in presenting your work in Avignon?
Jinyeob Lee: “The safety regulations were extremely strict. The festival has to adhere to all standards, so every single detail had to be negotiated. For example, we use specific heaters around the world—and even in France—but the Avignon fire brigade stated we couldn't use them because they lacked official European product certification.
We also wanted the audience to step into the water tank. This was approved, then rejected by another department, then renegotiated, and ultimately rejected again. The festival teams did their best, but the regulatory framework was genuinely challenging.”
We also wanted the audience to step into the water tank. This was approved, then rejected by another department, then renegotiated, and ultimately rejected again. The festival teams did their best, but the regulatory framework was genuinely challenging.”
What are your next projects following Avignon?
Jinyeob Lee: “My new creation is titled Challa, a Buddhist term designating a fleeting moment. I am collaborating with Danish and New Zealander artists, and we will perform this October at the Seoul Performing Arts Festival. This time, I am working with sand. It is a meditative and participatory performance. We draw with brooms on a black surface, and the audience is encouraged to move with their bodies.
Meditation is not very common in Korea, especially among younger generations, so I want to create a meditative performance where one can block out external reality and focus entirely on the sand.”
Meditation is not very common in Korea, especially among younger generations, so I want to create a meditative performance where one can block out external reality and focus entirely on the sand.”
How does Korean culture influence your work?
Jinyeob Lee: “Koreans love to sing and dance. They love to participate. I want to create spaces where they can feel free on stage, understand that they can participate, and simply be themselves. I know the character of the Korean audience well, and I want to play with that.”