In Sarangbang: A Room for Love, Boston-based designer and artist Heeyeon (Heidy) Lee embarks on a deeply personal and culturally resonant inquiry: how might design serve not merely as an aesthetic or utilitarian act, but as a vessel for memory, care, and emotional transmission?
Rooted in Korean heritage, sarangbang traditionally denotes a private study or retreat—an introspective space historically reserved for men during the Joseon dynasty. Lee reclaims and reimagines this room, transforming it into an intimate, emotionally charged sanctuary centered on sarang (love). What began as a senior thesis project at Boston College has since evolved into a thoughtful and layered investigation into emotional design, material storytelling, and cultural memory.
At the heart of Sarangbang lies a design methodology that interweaves spatial practice, textile art, and the symbolic language of traditional Korean craft. A blanket incorporating bojagi (Korean wrapping cloth) patterns conceals within its folds the Korean character for “love”—a quiet gesture to the concealed, protective nature of care. A hand-tufted rug, rendered in the motif of maedeup (Korean knotting), takes the form of a heart, signifying both emotional resilience and interconnection. An intricately knotted table materializes the presence of shared bonds and relational support.
Each object in the collection transcends functionality, reflecting Lee’s sensitivity to emotional labor, memory, and everyday ritual—concepts that bridge traditional Korean life and contemporary lived experience. Her process combines analog and digital technologies. Hand tufting and embroidery are layered with digital graphic systems to translate emotional narratives into tactile and spatial forms.
The final installation unfolds like a dollhouse of memory—a miniature yet immersive world rich in softness, layering, and quiet intimacy. Beyond its visual delicacy, Sarangbang resonates as a compelling contribution to dialogues surrounding emotional sustainability, care work, and the redefinition of gendered domestic space. As one curator remarked, it becomes “a poetic space where cultural history and affective memory meet.”
Though firmly grounded in Korean tradition, Sarangbang speaks a global visual language—one that honors the emotional architectures we inhabit and inherit. In an era where emotional intelligence is increasingly prized in design practice, Lee’s work signals a new kind of designer: one who does not merely shape objects, but who sculpts space for remembrance, tenderness, and reimagination.
