What drew us to SANRO was the simplicity of it — objects that look as though the designer was handed a sheet of material and, through a series of considered bends, the form arrived on its own. Nothing forced. Galvanized steel, structural honesty, nothing hidden. Naturally, we wanted to meet the mind behind them. Hyunsoo Choi is a product designer and the director of SANRO, a Seoul-based studio that makes everyday objects from industrial materials — many of them from offcuts produced in a shared metal workshop. We sat down with him to talk about where his curiosity began, what Seoul looks like right now, and why he thinks the most enduring design might just be the kind that leaves room for your own taste.
SORT: I'm curious where it all started for you. Was there an early moment that pointed you toward product design?
Hyunsoo Choi: My father was an audio engineer. He'd take apart every piece of electronics in the house — examine it, repair it, put it back. Growing up watching that, seeing the inside of a product completely different from its outside, left an impression. Studying industrial design later, I started to see those disassembled forms as something closer to the truth of an object. That's still what drives my work — designs that reveal how they're made rather than conceal it.
S: Even in such a connected world, I find that a designer's environment still deeply shapes their work. When I visited Seoul last year — especially Seongsu and Hannam — I felt a strong sense of experimentation and energy. Designers there seemed both resourceful and unafraid to try new ideas. Even the smallest cafés felt thoughtfully designed. Discovering SANRO brings back that same feeling. How do you see the current product design landscape in Seoul?
HC: People here have grown tired of chasing trends at the expense of their own taste. What followed was a real turn inward — more collaboration between designers and people with a specific point of view, more small brands building something that means something. There's also a growing interest in materials and process. People want to know where things come from. I hope it continues. When people know what they like and want to own it, that's the best environment a designer can work in.
S: I also understand that Seoul moves at a very fast pace. My father-in-law, who immigrated from Seoul to New Zealand, often says that every time he returns, the city has changed. How do you personally navigate that contrast — between a rapidly evolving environment and the desire to create objects that feel enduring?
HC: SANRO has its own sensibility, and maintaining that — while letting it stretch in different directions — is what I think allows a brand to last. For people who aren't yet sure what their taste is, I'd like our products to help them figure that out. A brand that holds its own character is the thing that stays in people's memory through periods of fast change.
S: And galvanized steel feels like exactly that kind of material — one with a real story behind it. How did it become the foundation of SANRO?
HC: We co-run a metal workshop that manufactures commercial kitchen equipment. Galvanized steel was already in heavy use there — it handles heat, resists corrosion, machines cleanly. After cutting sheet to size, there's always offcut material. Too small for the next job, too good to scrap. We wanted to make something with what was left. That was the beginning of SANRO.
The material also carries two atmospheres at once — something worn and vintage alongside something sharp. I like that kind of contrast. Put a roll of patterned tape inside the tape dispenser and the two things play against each other. The material holds whatever taste you bring to it.
S: That sense of contrast — the structural form meeting the user's own sensibility — comes through clearly in the pieces SORT is carrying. Can you tell us a bit more about the thinking behind the stationery series and the RB Box?
HC: For a long time in Korea, minimalism was treated as the only legitimate form of design. People absorbed it as fact. That worried me — minimalism is one approach among many. So I wanted to make things with a wider emotional range, collaborating with designers from different fields while keeping the material consistent. The stationery objects and the RB Box came from that. They're designed to hold your taste, not replace it. Someone might look at the structural aesthetic and wonder if it suits them. My hope is that once they try it, something opens up.
S: Last question — for anyone planning a trip to Seoul, where would you send them?
HC: Hannam and Seongsu are worth your time, but lately I've been recommending Seochon. It holds a real concentration of small brands with their own point of view — and unlike newer areas, it still carries a lot of old Seoul. Contemporary and traditional, right next to each other. Worth going out of your way for.
S: Seochon holds a special place for me too, so it was lovely to see you recommend it. I visited mainly to see 일상여백 Ilsang Yeobaek and 더 북 소사이어티 The Book Society, picked up some snacks at Tongin Market, and had a really wonderful coffee at Coffee Shop ADZE. I hope to be back in Seoul before long — maybe we can meet for coffee in Seochon sometime.
HC: It was a real pleasure to share the story behind SANRO and talk about design, materials, Seoul, and the ideas that shape my work. I’m also very happy that SANRO could be introduced alongside a place like SORT, which clearly values independent viewpoints and thoughtful objects.
Thank you again for the opportunity. I truly hope we can meet again in Seoul sometime soon perhaps in Seochon over coffee.
