Red Pig Flower: Dreaming Between Realms, Practicing Love
Red Pig Flower is not just an artist, she is a force of nature navigating the blurred boundaries between dream and reality, analog and digital. Born in Seoul, and shaped by her journeys through Tokyo, London, Berlin, and now Brussels, her work is as nomadic and transformative as her life. An accomplished visual artist, experimental techno producer, and DJ, Red Pig Flower is a multidimensional storyteller, equally at home in a gallery as she is behind the decks of the world’s most revered nightclubs.
Red’s art draws from the profound philosophies of 4th-century Chinese thinker Zhūangzi, who wrote on the mutability of existence and the illusion of fixed boundaries. That conceptual foundation is evident in her work, which exists in a state of flux, between dreams and waking life, between the physical and the digital, the mind and the body. Her exhibitions, shown in esteemed institutions such as the NCCA in Moscow, Goldsmiths University in London, and the Asia Culture Centre in Gwangju, explore these poetic dichotomies with haunting precision and immersive storytelling.
Her creative journey is equally rooted in sound. As a techno artist and DJ, Red has carved out a distinctive voice in the electronic music scene. Over the last decade, she’s performed in leading clubs across the globe, delivering hypnotic sets that often blur the line between performance art and rave. In 2015, her video art won the Best Video Art award at the Venezia Misteriosa contest, and in 2021, she was awarded a prestigious Master Mind Scholarship by KU Leuven. Her studies in mass media at CAU Seoul, time-based art at Central Saint Martins in London, and media information design at LUCA School of Arts in Brussels underscore her interdisciplinary approach. In 2022, she was recognized as one of LUCA’s “Jonge Kunstenaars” (Young Artists), a testament to her growing influence in the European art world.
Now, Red Pig Flower introduces her sensational debut album, Practice Love, released via her co-founded label Sound Of Vast. The album is a powerful culmination of her life’s travels, personal growth, and artistic vision. Rooted in house music’s ethos of unity and healing, Practice Love is both a sonic journey and a philosophical statement. With Seoul, Tokyo, and Berlin as the cultural triangle of her artistic soul, Red has crafted a body of work that is deeply global yet intimately personal. The title, Practice Love, holds dual meaning: it is both a call to make love a daily intention and a reminder that love, like any skill, must be practiced to be embodied. Practice Love resonates deeply with me because house music has always been a sanctuary, a place for unity, joy, and self-expression,” Red explains. “As a nomad and outsider, club culture and house music became my shelter.
And now, to our interview…
Q: Your greatest inspirations or influences?
I’m driven by contrast — the emotional gaps between silence and chaos, softness and violence. I find stories in those in-between spaces. My background in art and journalism taught me how to look deeply, and being self-taught in music lets me express without rules. I’m always seeking beauty where people overlook it — in imperfection, confusion, vulnerability.
Q: How is the current world around you part of your artistic process?
The world is constantly shaping me. I absorb things — people, places, politics, overheard words on a train — and they live inside my process. I don’t separate my life from my art. They melt into each other, and my work becomes a reflection of the time I live in, the energy I’m surrounded by.
But if you refer specially to the current world... which is very uncertain and chaotic — secretly, I can be pretty political and opinionated. Still, through my music and art, I try to create a safe space. A space of care, especially for my community. Sometimes the world feels too big, and we feel helpless... but when I come back to my computer, listen to music, and make music, I can at least escape from the noise for a while.
Q: Tell us about your creative process.
It starts from chaos — messy recordings from the street, concerts, random noises that catch my emotion. I gather fragments: sound, visuals, feelings. But when I sit down at my laptop, I shift into focus — I try to transmit that raw energy into form. It doesn’t always follow my intention. Sometimes the music tells me where it wants to go.
Q: How do you combine your music with your art practice?
They’re two limbs of the same body. My visual and sonic work feed into each other — both ritualistic, both searching for emotional transformation. I see my sets and installations as emotional spaces, like ceremonies. Sound and image, for me, are just different textures of the same feeling.
When I create music, I often visualize the cover, the music video, or an entire cinematic world around it. And when I work on visual art — especially immersive or digital pieces — I use my own sound design to pull people into the space fully. It’s all about immersion and emotional depth, guiding the viewer into an inner world where sound and image breathe together.
Q: How do you feel about AI, as it relates to the art world?
I use AI more like a collaborator — not to make music for me, but to help sort out my ideas, analyze chord progressions, or expand a concept I already have. It’s like having a really sharp assistant who helps me reflect or clarify things. I believe we can live and create together with AI only if we collaborate wisely, not overuse it or let it replace our human chaos and magic.
Q: Do you feel artists have a responsibility to be activists for a better world?
Absolutely. Especially now — the world feels more uncertain, and people are scared, disconnected. Art can raise awareness, challenge injustice, and also comfort. Artists can hold both rage and hope in the same hand. We have a voice. We should use it.
Q: Anything else you would like to share with us?
We just have to keep living, and keep creating. Maybe art won’t always feed us bread, but it will stop us from falling into despair. Art helps us survive ourselves — and that’s powerful enough.
