© Soomin Ham, Diptych series

Soomin Ham is a Washington DC area photographer and multimedia artist whose latest work is a visual meditation on belonging, on finding one’s way. I first became aware of her poetic, dreamlike work a few years ago, when I saw her “Portraits and Windows” project, which used reconstructed compositions where past and present coexist, and other inventive approaches for exploring grief, memories and impermanence. The loss of her mother to depression drove home the fragility of life, a theme vividly reflected throughout her work. Ham, who was born in Korea, originally studied to be a musician and her work has a lyrical quality to it.

Her current exhibition, “In Gray,” shifts the focus of her work to displacement and identity, an issue that many immigrants and other global citizens are grappling with. After visiting Korea, she feels she no longer belongs there. But she also feels she doesn’t belong in the U.S. This has left her wandering between her two worlds. She uses diptychs, black and white, juxtaposed images and layering to tell the story of that struggle.

© Soomin Ham, Diptych series

Here is how she describes the exhibition, which will be at the Multiple Exposure Gallery in Alexandria, VA. until Oct. 11, 2026.

Upon returning to Korea, the home I once knew, I discovered that I no longer belonged there. Too many years had passed; memories had faded, and the place I carried within me had changed. Yet in the United States, the place I now call home, I did not belong there either. An outsider in both worlds, I wandered in-between—a gray area.

“In Gray” contemplates what it means to have two homes, yet never fully belong to either. Each series of photographs is an introspective search through parallels and coincidence; fragments found in the landscapes from both halves of my identity.

In the photographic diptychs, two places meet across a continuum of absence. The in-between space embodies the distance felt upon returning to Korea, and the displacement of identity over time. Each half of the diptych is a trace of the person I once was in that place, before I no longer belonged.

© Soomin Ham, Diptych series

Trees appear as quiet companions.  They are metaphors for myself—physically rooted in the land, yet continually changing with the world around them. White acrylic and traditional Korean black ink hint at East and West, the two sides of my identity. Through layering and juxtaposition, landscapes overlap and dissolve, revealing the fragments of a cultural landscape carried within. 

With each series, the exhibition slowly uncovers the lost pieces, the memories, and the spaces in between. What emerges is not a clear sense of belonging, but an acceptance of uncertainty and ambiguity. Perhaps my belonging is not black or white, but the gray space in between.

© Soomin Ham, Diptych series

An interview with the artist follows.

Soomin Ham is a photographer and multimedia artist based in the Washington, D.C., area. Originally trained as a musician with a Bachelor of Music from Ewha Women’s University in Seoul, Ham holds a Master of Art in Photography and New Media from New York University and the International Center of Photography in New York.

Her work including photography, mixed media, and multimedia installations has been exhibited extensively across the DC area, New York City, and Seoul, Korea. Ham is a recipient of the Visual Arts Fellowship from the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts and has been awarded multiple grants from the D.C. Commission on the Arts and Humanities, including the Individual Artist Fellowship and Small Projects Grants. A winner of the 2019 LensCulture Portrait Awards, her work has been featured in publications such as Shadow and Light Magazine and the UK’s Black + White Photography.

Instagram: @soominhamartstudio

Website: www.soominham.com

© Soomin Ham, East and West series

This is a wonderful exhibition. Congratulations. You are exploring an important question facing so many people: what does it means to “never fully belong to either.” I also continue to be fascinated by your use of unusual elements and techniques to reveal more about your internal landscape and to create these visual poems. Can you talk a bit more about how you approached each series of photos — Diptych, East and West and Window?

I approached each series differently because each reflects a different aspect of my
experience of “never fully belonging to either”— either Korea, where I was born and raised, or the U.S., where I now live. In the Diptych series, I bring two juxtaposed images taken in the U.S. and Korea together, allowing the space between them to become not only a place of loss, but also a space where both of my identities can coexist.

© Soomin Ham, East and West series

© Soomin Ham, East and West series

In East and West, I use trees as a metaphor for myself—rooted in one place while living and changing in another. I combine photographs with white acrylic and traditional Korean black ink, which reflects the two sides of my identity, by layering East and West within the image. Similar to the Diptych series, I intentionally leave a gap between images, suggesting a sense of distance and the absence of a clear sense of belonging on either side.

© Soomin Ham, Window series, West

© Soomin Ham, Window series, West

The Window series is more intimate and contemplative. I use the window as both a physical and metaphorical threshold, allowing me to look outward at my surroundings while also looking inward toward my identity. I layer photographs of the same landscape across four seasons, photographed in both Korea and the U.S., allowing fragments of one world to overlap with another. Through this layering and fragmentation, the photographs become less about particular places and more about my inner landscape. The subtle gray emerges from the blending of these two worlds. I chose these different approaches because I didn’t want simply to document my experiences. I wanted to reconstruct how they felt—how memory can overlap, fragment, disappear, and reappear. In that sense, the process itself becomes part of the emotional language of the work.

© Soomin Ham, Window series, In Between

© Soomin Ham, Window series, East

© Soomin Ham, Window series, East

Although they are different series, they created a unified narrative arc. Can you discuss that a bit.

Although the three series use different visual approaches, together they form a unified narrative about living between two homes. The Diptych series creates a dialogue between Korea and the U.S.; East and West explores the tension of being rooted in two different cultures; and the Window series turns the gaze inward and outward, reflecting on the experience of seeing one world through the perspective of another.

© Soomin Ham, Window series, installation

“In Gray” seems to build on your earlier work, which focused more on grieving, family and memory. How do you see your earlier projects connecting with “In Gray”?

My earlier work has always been rooted in memory, often using layering and fragmentation—both within the images and throughout the creative process—to bridge the past and present. In Sound of Butterfly, I opened myself to the grief of losing my mother. In Portraits and Windows, I repurposed my grandfather’s old photographs, reconnecting them with my family history. In Recollections, I revisited moments and places that have shaped my journey of self-discovery.

In Gray continues and expands these themes, shifting from personal grief and memory toward a broader exploration of displacement and identity. Rather than focusing only on the loss of a person or a familiar home, I am now reflecting on what it means to lose a sense of connection to a place and to find oneself between two worlds, searching for where home might be.

©Soomin Ham, Recollections, installation

Is there anything else you would like to add?

I’d like to mention “In Gray: Recollections”, the installation itself, particularly the wall that brings together ten works from Recollections and Revisited. I approached the entire wall as a canvas, arranging the photographs like fragments of memory scattered across a landscape. Although the images come from different times and places, together they form what I think of as a “memoryscape”—a space where incomplete and overlapping recollections coexist.

Rather than offering viewers a fixed narrative, I wanted to leave space for their own interpretations. I hope the images invite them to move through these spaces and fragments, finding their own stories within the gray areas—shaped by their imagination, experiences, and personal memories.

©Soomin Ham, Recollections, installation