- Analysis and deconstruction of anime ‘Jujutsu Kaisen’ clips
After reading a large number of manga, I conducted a critical analysis and structural deconstruction of selected fight scenes from Jujutsu Kaisen. Specifically, I focused on a sequence comprising pages P1 to P4.
In P1 and P2, which depict a combat sequence between two characters, we see an exaggerated use of perspective. In P1, multiple overlapping fists are drawn to simulate rapid exchanges of punches. The slightly tilted panel divisions—top, middle, and bottom—along with dynamic speed lines in the background and large, expressive onomatopoeia overlaid across the composition, all contribute to a heightened sense of narrative intensity. P1 uses two close-ups of the upper body and one cropped detail shot, while P2 presents three full-body action shots. The differing directional linework across the panels, the varied angles of movement, and the shifts in character scale and perspective collectively enhance the visual tension of the fight scene.
In contrast, P3 and P4 transition into relatively static moments. P3 consists of two seemingly similar close-ups, with subtle differences in composition. The repeated close-up of a character’s eyes deepens the emotional and psychological narrative, conveying a shift in tone. The black, white, and grey balance in this page is also handled with precision.
P4 features four close-ups of different characters' facial expressions, followed by a single-panel concluding phrase or commentary. The presence of multiple dialogue boxes intensifies the narrative content, while the direction of the background shadows subtly suggests the spatial positioning of the figures.
Importantly, even for a viewer unfamiliar with the manga’s storyline or the Japanese language, these four pages still communicate a clear narrative trajectory. The combination of character gestures, facial expressions, and panel structure effectively guides the viewer’s understanding. This ability of visual form and narrative devices to convey complex storytelling without reliance on language has been a crucial reference point for my own practice.
- Open studio
In May, I visited Walk the House, a solo exhibition by Korean artist Do Ho Suh at Tate Modern in London. Entering the space felt like stepping into a “house of memory” delicately constructed from translucent fabric. Every threshold, light switch, and architectural detail was ghostly recreated in lightweight polyester, evoking a sense of spatial dislocation—simultaneously rooted in the familiarity of a former home and suspended within the present moment of the gallery. This duality reflects the tension between home and mobility, belonging and loss.
One of the central installations—a vividly colored “ideal home” composed of wireframes and fine mesh—traced the architectural contours of Suh’s residences across six different cities. While these structures held a poetic precision, their highly systematized and schematic presentation also introduced a certain coldness. This emotional distance was amplified by the contrast between the tactile softness of the materials and the detached formalism of the forms.
Suh’s three-dimensional rubbing works also left a lasting impression. They inspired me to reconsider the potential of traditional materials by highlighting how surface impressions can redefine the material identity of everyday objects. Through these works, memory and identity are not simply represented but physically embedded into the surface, allowing viewers to feel a sense of shared emotional resonance.
Walk the House exhibition site
- Open studio
In April, I visited the open‐studio event and a small group exhibition organized by The Koppel Project in London. As an artist collective housed in a converted townhouse, The Koppel Project provides studios for about twenty practitioners, creating a remarkably harmonious environment and vibrant creative atmosphere. Their studios are open daily from 8:00 AM to midnight, allowing for both early‐morning experimentation and late‐night collaboration.
Walking through the open studios, I was struck by the breadth of practices on display—from painting and sculpture to installation and video—each offering its own critical perspective. Engaging informally with fellow artists, I received invaluable, candid feedback and concrete suggestions that challenged and expanded my thinking. This immersion underscored how vital it is, here in London, to participate in an artist residency or collective: regular exposure to cross-disciplinary critique accelerates both technical refinement and conceptual growth.
Motivated by this experience, I plan to apply for an artist residency between June and July. I believe that becoming part of a studio community—where dialogue and critique are woven into daily practice—will be instrumental to the next phase of my art‐making. By situating my work alongside peers from diverse backgrounds, I aim to cultivate fresh insights, deepen my network, and ultimately enrich my creative